Authors: Heather Graham
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Mistress of Magic
Heather Graham
To Theresa Davant, Charlie and Stuart—with lots of love
Chapter 1
B
ump!
Large and green, shaded with yellow around the smiling mouth, the great eyes a brilliant, cornflower blue, the cuddly creature made of latex and foam came smacking lightly against the man as he absently turned away. The creature and the man turned to each other in surprise at the contact. Delighted laughter at the accidental interchange rose among the crowd.
The audience was ready to be delighted. It was fairly early, and though the day promised an intense heat, there was still a whisper of a breeze on the morning air. Beautifully manicured palms and hibiscus and crotons just bowed lightly to that breeze. Excitement and eagerness and even fun seemed to hang in the air like tangible things that could be swept up, grabbed and held tight.
The sudden, startling collision of the man and the latex monster seemed to add to it all.
The crowd laughed again. But between the man and the creature, there was a moment of silent surprise.
Then the man’s face was split with a broad, handsome smile, and he bumped the creature in return—as if in a payback gesture. As if the creature had bumped into him on purpose.
The creature skittered away, then returned, then skittered away again, anxious, concerned, shy once again. The creature had a personality, one that was all her own, one that any child there knew and knew well.
“Pet her! Give her a pat on the nose, mister! Dierdre is really a nice monster, sir!” some young observer called out.
The man laughed. It was a nice laugh. The kind of laugh that somehow seemed to reach through all that latex and foam and padding and touch Reggie right against her spine, sending small electric tingles to race along it.
“A nice monster?” he said skeptically.
He had a nice voice, too. Deep, rich, very masculine. Reggie felt a peculiar trembling seize hold of her, just as if that voice could really touch her.
“Of course!” a little girl said.
“She’th thweet, she’th good, she’th wonderful!” added a stalwart tot who slurred out the words—he was missing his two front teeth.
“Then I’d better give her a pat, huh?” the man said.
“Yes, oh, yes!” the children all called out. A good sized crowd was gathering. Neither parents nor children seemed to mind that they would wind up running a little late to stand in their next line. They all seemed to enjoy the live drama—or comedy—that was taking place before them.
“A good monster. All right, nice monster!” he said, setting a hand on her latex nose.
Reggie felt another peculiar little trembling cascade through her. He wasn’t even touching her. He was stroking latex. And still …
There could be definite advantages to wearing a dinosaur suit, she decided. Advantages she had certainly never imagined when Max had asked her to come out of the cave and play Dierdre for the first early morning crowd.
Really, Regina! she chided herself in dismayed silence. There had always been wonderful advantages to playing Dierdre Dinosaur!
For one, the children were wonderful. Reggie knew that a number of employees quickly tired of the heavy costumes and the multitude of children—big and little—who wanted to shake Dierdre’s hand, stroke her synthetic cheek or just receive a big dinosaur hug.
Reggie had never minded. Of course, Dierdre Dinosaur was her invention, almost as much as the character was Max’s creation. Dierdre had been their first. She was nearest and dearest to their hearts. Maybe Reggie felt something special for Dierdre.
Or maybe it was just the children. It was little faces alight with smiles. It was tiny hands, reaching out. Sometimes there were children in wheelchairs, children with terminal illnesses. Beautiful children with bright eyes and hope-filled faces, and then it was exceptionally wonderful to be Dierdre Dinosaur, just to see those extraordinary and very special smiles.
And, of course, there were times like this morning. Times when being Dierdre just turned out to be fun. Because the
very big
kids could sometimes be just as much fun as the little ones.
And as stunned as she might be with herself for such a volatile and startling reaction to a man, she would have to say that there was truly something especially fun about this particular big kid.
Well, he was
very
big, for one. Reggie was certain that he had to be over six two, probably closer to six three. He had a nice athletic build without being overly muscular, appealing broad shoulders, a narrow waist and trim hips. He wore his casual striped cotton tailored shirt with a pleasant ease, and seemed cool despite the rising heat.
And admittedly, he wore his tight jeans with an even greater appeal. The denim hugged his body quite nicely, and Reggie couldn’t help but simply like the way the man was able to wear clothes.
And that, unfortunately, led her to wonder just what he looked like when he wasn’t wearing clothing.
She groaned and reminded herself that she was a large, walking prehistoric animal-of-the-imagination and that she was out here to amuse children, not to think these thoughts that were causing her to blush beneath her mask. She wasn’t like that. She never thought thoughts like that. Never. She always just had good, clean fun, enjoying her anonymity—
Oh, come now, Reggie! she told herself. This was still clean.
Nope. Not when she was using a dinosaur mask as a cover while discreetly studying the way he wore those jeans.
Heavens!
Look at his eyes, Reggie. Look at his eyes.
His face was even nicer than his body. He had a head of thick, sandy, fairly close-cropped hair. His face was the ruggedly handsome type, hard planed, lean, with a set of wide, hazel-gold eyes that gleamed sharply in contrast to the deep bronze hue of his skin. There was nothing soft or pretty about him. His were the rough-cut good looks that had given men like Clint Eastwood such a broad appeal. And still, despite the somewhat macho ruggedness of his appeal, he had a smile that could make her breath catch. Maybe because the full sensuality of his smile and that mischievous glitter in his eyes were somewhat in opposition to the severity of his face. Maybe he had been places and seen things. Maybe he’d weathered a lot.
But he seemed like the type who had come out of it all okay. With a sense of humor and a rich love of life still intact.
And maybe she was reading far too much into a stranger she was meeting as Dierdre Dinosaur, a stranger she would probably never meet in real life.
Well, it was fun. It was one way to pass the time. She received smiles from men in khaki shorts and women in halter tops and cutoff jeans all the time. She read the children’s faces, and she even saw their lives back home in Des Moines or Charleston or whatever city they had traveled from to come here for their fun in the sun. She liked people, and she was a dreamer. It was what she and Max did for a living. The dreaming was the magic.
And still … Still, maybe she was imagining just a bit too much about this particular stranger.
Max had been telling her that she worked too hard, that she needed to get a life.
Mmm, but while he was in the midst of telling her that, he was also begging that she run out and be Dierdre again. With the employees beginning to leave since this new, ugly business had come up—
She didn’t want to think about that! She didn’t want to get angry or feel protective. She didn’t want to feel hateful and furious, not when she was being Dierdre.
And that left …
The man. The man with his great, sexy smile and hazel-gold eyes. The man who was laughing now. He had withdrawn at first, like someone who quickly became wary. Why? Was he a cop? A government agent? Hmm.
He had actually seemed as if he was here on business, at first. As if the being accidentally bumped by a park creature had been an annoyance. She had seen that first look in his eyes.…
But this was an amusement park, a theme park. People came here to have fun. To see Dierdre Dinosaur, especially. And no one would be annoyed, unless it was a father who had stood in one too many long lines or a brother who had been dragged here by a younger sibling.…
This man was alone, or so it seemed.
And he had come around, she reminded herself. That annoyance had been in his glittering eyes for the very briefest of seconds. And then he had laughed and had joined right in the play, and the children were enjoying his impromptu performance just as much as they were enjoying the show being put on by the dinosaur.
Still smiling, he gave her another pat on the big dinosaur nose.
Dierdre, as shy and sweet as a dinosaur could be, bowed her head shyly. She half turned away.
“Oh, don’t let him go! Don’t let him go!” a little girl called out.
Reggie wasn’t about to let him go. Actually, she decided, this could be really fun. As Miss Regina Delaney, she could certainly never flirt with a man like this.
But as Dierdre Dinosaur …
She turned quickly, using her three-pronged dinosaur hand to ruffle his close-cropped sandy blond hair. That stopped him. Stopped him quick. He turned back, his brows arched, a glimmer of high mischief in his eyes again. Even as he turned, she played the blushing dinosaur, hiding her face in her big dinosaur paws. She sneaked a peek. He was watching her, his head slightly cocked, his hands on his hips.
Good-looking fellow. Really good-looking fellow. Handsome smile, nice voice.
Not the type I ever get to meet as a human being! she said to herself. But I have him now …
And so she approached him again, setting her flopping arms around him and giving a little hug as she let her felt chin rest on his shoulder.
There was a pen in his pocket. Dexterous even in the costume—she had worn it often enough—Reggie slipped the pen from his shirt. Then she quickly sidled away again, shy. So shy.