The Magic Of Christmas (7 page)

Except that she had wanted him to look, or at least a part of her did.  She recognized that now.  And she wanted him to keep looking, especially when he was gazing at her as he was now, as if she was good enough to eat.  Like he wanted to devour her.

"So why are you here?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.  "You tour.  Don't you have another show to do?"

He gestured for her to sit in the other leather club chair opposite him.  She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but after he plucked her drink from her hand and placed it on the table between them, she seemed resigned.  At first, she sat stiffly and primly, her legs crossed.  Then, as he watched her, she settled back into the chair, seemingly unable to resist the soft, supple old leather.  When she was settled, he resumed his seat.

"The short answer is the impending storm."  His gaze strayed to the window and she could see the first few gentle snowflakes beginning to fall.  She also knew that it was deceptive and a major blizzard had been forecast for that night and well into the weekend.  "My manager told me that unless I wanted to be the next Buddy Holly, and end up dying in a snowy cornfield, I'd be better off staying here for the night.  Possibly the next few days if the blizzard doesn't end as quickly as predicted."  

He picked up his own drink - vodka from the look of it  - and took a healthy swallow.  "My crew is at the hotel by the airport and they don't mind another night or two in this town, as I'm sure you can guess, what with all the willing bodies available for, shall we say, entertainment purposes.  I didn't really mind either since I would only be going on to another hotel, albeit some place warmer than here.  Still, the Presidential Suite was still free and the hotel staff are always glad to have me."  He offered her a rueful smile.  "I'm told I tip extremely well."

Drake 
would
 tip well, she decided.  Having grown up poor, he knew what those who worked in menial jobs did to make a living.  Now that he had money, he was generous to those who had once been like him, struggling to get by.

"And the long answer?"  Because Cecilia knew there was one.  Everything about him nearly screamed it.

He swirled the liquid around in his glass and it was then that Cecilia realized that it was water.  She couldn't smell alcohol, not even when he moved the glass.  Yet another illusion in a life that she was coming to see was full of them.

"I wanted to see you," he finally said, his eyes downcast.  "Once I knew you were here, still in town, I wanted to see if..."  He trailed off, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

"To see what?" she pressed, though again, she suspected that she already knew the answer.  "To see if I was still the girl you remembered?"

He put his glass back down.  "Something like that."  He steepled his fingers in front of him.  "Do you know what happened to me after I left here?  Got out from under my mother's control and my so-called stepfather's abuse?"

Cecilia shook her head.  "No.  All I know is what my father told me.  He said that you were going to live with a relative in New Jersey.  That was it."  She had wanted to know more and had begged her father to tell her, convinced that William Linden knew what had happened to the boy she had been head over heels in love with.

"Aunt Agatha."  There was pure love in his tone when he spoke of the woman and for some reason, it warmed Cecilia's heart.  "She was a good woman.  She took me in, never questioning where I had come from or what had happened to me.  Like your parents, she offered me unconditional love.  No questions.  No strings.  She sent me to school, helped me get into Princeton and, when the time was right, found someone to teach me the art of magic and share the secrets of illusion."

Cecilia smiled, thankful that he had found a better life.  "She sounds wonderful.  I'd love to meet her.  I'm sure my parents would too when they get back from their cruise to Bermuda at the end of the month."  Then she winced, realized what she had just said.  That she had implied that Drake would still be in town when they returned and that he would want to see them.  That was presuming too much.  
She
 was hoping for too much.  Or her heart was, no matter what her head said.

There was a sadness in his eyes when he looked back at her.  "She died a few years ago."

"Oh, God, Drake.  I'm sorry."  Cecilia had no idea how he could suffer yet another loss and still keep going.  She didn't know if she could be that strong.

"Thanks."  He didn't try to brush her words away or pretend that they didn't matter and for that, she was thankful.  It was another sign that Logan still existed.  "She would have loved you, you know."  He laced his hands in front of him.  "I talked about you often enough that sometimes she said she thought she would know you on sight."

That gave Cecilia pause.  "You thought of me?"

"How could I not?"  There was an earnestness in his gaze now, one that was at distinct odds with his sexy, devil-may-care persona.  "You were the only real friend that I ever had.  Why would you think I would forget you so easily?"

Perhaps because she was forgettable?  Because she was used to being seen as nothing more than William Linden's daughter and not a person in her own right?  Because every time someone offered her a compliment, it came with strings, usually a comparison to her brilliant, compassionate parents?  How she was pretty, but her mother was stunning, even now that she was older?

"I don't know," she finally offered and then looked away, unable to meet the searching look she saw in his eyes.  "But for what it's worth, I never forgot you either."

Drake leaned forward and captured her hands with his.  "Celli," he started using the teasing old pet name he had called her in her youth, "tonight when I saw you out there I wanted..."

But instead of appearing pleased, she pulled away from him and stood up, almost as if she couldn't wait to get away from him.  "Don't.  Please, Drake, just don't."  

He looked so sexy and desirable that she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and demand that he make all of her fantasies come true.  But that wasn't being strong.  That was being stupid.  He just told her that the women he was with over the years were all part of the illusion.  If she gave in to her desires and the foolish belief that she could somehow recapture the past, she would be setting herself up for more heartache.  One she might never recover from.

One that would send her life into more of a tailspin than it already was.

"Don't what?"  He seemed genuinely puzzled.  "Don't tell you that I want you?  Because I think we both know that's not true.  I've wanted you from the very first day I saw you.  I was too young back then to know or understand what I was feeling, but these...these...these emotions inside of me?  They've always been there.  But only for you."  

When she didn't say anything, just stood there looking down at him with those big, dark brown eyes, he pressed on, thankful that she hadn't run from him yet.  He also rose from his own chair so that now, they were eye to eye.  Equals.  

"Don't try to pretend that I don't see the desire in your eyes every time you look at me.  Don't try to make believe that you don't want me just as much as I want you.  That you haven't been thinking of what it would be like between us.  That you don't want to see me naked.  Because I can't.  I won't.  I do want you, Celli.  You have to know that.  And I think that you want me just as much."  He shook his head, unwilling to believe the protests she had yet to make.  "No.  I know you do."

Slowly, Cecilia backed up, shaking her head, just as he had clearly anticipated.  "Drake, I might want you, but that doesn't make it the right thing to do.  I came here to try to make some sense out of my life.  I was already confused and restless before I walked into that theater and saw you, larger than life and sexy as hell standing right before me, like you were my deepest fantasy come to life.  Then you send me this note, asking to see me, tell me you're waiting and stupid, stupid me, I come trotting on back here as if I don't know what I'm getting into, when clearly, I do."

Her chest was heaving and he wanted to say something but he had no idea what.  "So what does this have to do with me?"  He moved his finger back and forth between the two of them.  "And this?  Us?"

He tried to say something else, but she rushed on, not allowing him to get a word in.  "I hate teaching.  Did you know that?  I don't want to be the head of the English department at College Heights High.  That was my father's dream.  Not mine.  But along the way, things became confused and somehow, I ended up following the same paths he and my mother did.  And that's not a bad thing, because they're good people and I love them.  But that's not me.  And it never will be."

"So, again, what does this have to do with me?"  Because, really, he was completely confused.  From his point of view, this was a very simple story.  He wanted Cecilia.  She wanted him.  They were now both old enough to take what they wanted and give each other the pleasure he knew they could find in each other's arms.  The end.  The rest?  Well that could wait until tomorrow or when the blizzard ended, whichever came first.

"Don't you see?" Cecilia was nearly crying now and Drake wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be fine, even when he had no idea what the problem was.  "I'm trying to find my own path in life, figure out what I want to do next, and then you come along and wham!  Everything that I think I know is upended again and you are the only thing I can think of, just like it used to be.  You have always been good at scrambling my mind so much that I can't think straight and the worst part is, you don't even do it on purpose!  And I'm afraid that if I do so much as kiss you that I'll end up staying exactly where I am even after you're gone because I won't know which end is up any longer!"

She whirled away and he had no choice but to follow her to the window where she stood gazing out onto the street below where the now rapidly falling snow was slowing traffic and people alike.  For a moment, she did nothing but stand there, leaning her head against the cool glass and sniffling as she tried to regain her composure.

Unable to think of anything else to do or say, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him.  At first, he thought she might pull away, but then she snuggled deeper into his embrace, relaxing against him.  They had only just reconnected after years apart.  He shouldn't be touching her but he couldn't help himself.  And she wasn't pulling away either.

As if the years that had passed between them had been mere hours instead of nearly two decades.

Drake wasn't about to lie.  He liked the feel of Cecilia in his arms, the way she fit so perfectly against him.  As if she was made for him.  His body and his alone.  His.  All his.  And no one else's.  As if she belonged to him.

"I nearly died the day you left, Drake," she finally whispered into the near darkness of the room.  "You were everything to me back then.  I know we were only kids, but I felt...."  She stumbled over her words, unable to finish the thought.  She did, however, press herself deeper into his embrace, loving the strong feel of his arms around her.

"And you think I didn't?" he asked, pulling her closer to him so that she could feel the press of his erection into the small of her back.  He was a large man and there was no way he could hide his desire for her.  Not that he wanted to.  He needed her to know how she affected him.  "Do you think you were the only one who felt that way?  As if they were losing the most important piece of their world?  Because you weren't.  I felt the same way.  But I had to leave.  You know that."

She nodded and leaned back into him, enjoying the feel of his hard, hot body against her back.  She also answered another question without even having to ask.  He could warm the parts of her that were always cold.  Because at the moment, she was feeling extremely, 
extremely
 hot, the press of his erection against her proving that his desire was real.  Very, 
very
 real from the feel of things.

"I've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life."  Cecilia finally spoke again after a few minutes of simply being in the silence with Drake.  "I thought I had it figured out.  I was going to quit teaching and become a photographer."

"So what's stopping you?"  He rested his chin on her shoulder, thankful that she had worn heeled boots so that she was almost the same height as he was.

She hesitated for a moment, before she finally settled back even further into his embrace, using the darkness as a shield.  "Fear.  Confusion.  Uncertainty.  Take your pick.  If I do this, I give up so much.  And to gain what?"

"Happiness?  A better life?"  Drake wanted to spin her around to face him but he didn't dare.  When she didn't say anything he tightened his grip on her.  He wasn't about to let her slip away from him, not when they were this close.  "I won't lie to you, Celli.  Making a change isn't easy, and it doesn't chase all of the demons away.  Some of them are always with you.  Take it from one who knows."  He swallowed, giving her a chance to reply, but when she didn't, he continued on.

"I won't pretend that the darkness still isn't in me.  It's there.  I'm moody and aggravating and private.  I don't trust many people, and I have few friends.  In some ways, nothing has changed since I was that little boy from the trailer park.  That's why my life is an illusion.  Because I'm afraid that if anyone looks too closely, they'll see the real me and they will judge me for it.  Find me lacking.  Or worse."