Sympathetic Magic(68)
“That would be fine for me, I think, and Bryce, too, I’m guessing.” Curiosity sharpened her tone as she added, “What’s this about, Margot?”
“We can talk about it tomorrow. Do you think you could call Bryce for me to confirm?”
“Of course. If he’s not available, I’ll let you know, but otherwise, we’ll see you at your place at two.”
“Perfect,” Margot said, inwardly relieved that she wouldn’t have to call Bryce as well. He’d be sure to ask more questions than she was willing to answer right now. “I’ll see you then.” She ended the call and shoved the phone back in her purse.
Lucas was watching her carefully. His expression was hard to read; the smile from a moment earlier was gone, and now he seemed almost thoughtful as he regarded her. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”
She shook her head. There was no point in telling him that the hard part was yet to come.
* * *
Maybe it had been, to use Margot’s word, presumptuous of him to think he’d be staying when the last he’d seen of her, she’d stormed out of his house and made it clear she never wanted to speak to him again. But that sense of his had been tickling at the back of his thoughts, telling him he should probably pack an overnight bag, just in case, and so he’d followed his instincts and thrown the bag in the trunk of his car before heading down here to Jerome.
Now more than ever he was glad of this odd gift of his, the one that had always guided him to make the right choice. Because he could come back to Margot’s house after a truly marvelous dinner and know he didn’t have to go anywhere else.
Almost shyly she led him into her bedroom, which was less than half the size of his, but charming, with the dark wood trim around the window and the crown moldings and the blue and white quilt on the bed. “I hope your feet won’t be hanging off the edge,” she said.
He gave the bed a once-over. “It’s a queen, right?”
She nodded.
“Then I’ll fit.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh, so you have plenty of experience with all the different bed sizes, then?”
“Some,” he acknowledged. “Considering I always made sure to go to my dates’ houses, rather than the reverse.”
“What?” Her expression was a study in confusion. “You mean….”
He came to her then, took her hands in his. Her fingers were so delicate, so slender, so lovely…and none more so than the one that wore the ring he’d given her. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever had come to my home. It was something I didn’t want to share with anyone until I knew I was serious about her. Part of it was being careful, I guess — I mean, if you’re seeing a civilian, you want to keep some things hidden until you’re absolutely certain things are going to get serious, and none of those relationships ever did. Get serious, I mean.”
“But you knew ours would be.”
“I hoped it would.” Lifting one hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss against her palm. “If it didn’t work out with you, I knew it would never work out with anyone. So I took the chance.”
“You know, your taking a chance is a little different from everyone else’s.”
“True.” He fell silent then, seeming to consider her words. “I guess that was when it came to me. I have this talent, this gift, and yet I never had any luck in the one thing I wanted most, which was someone to love, to share my life with. But then I realized my gift was smarter than I was, since it was making sure I didn’t make the wrong choice along the way. I had to wait, so the luck could bring you to me.”
In response, she took his hand and cupped it against her face, then pulled him closer to her. “I love you, Lucas.”
Something in the simple way she said those all-important words made the breath catch in his throat. He’d dreamed she might tell him that one day, but now that the moment was here, he couldn’t believe it was real, that she did love him, and, even more miraculous, had agreed to become his wife. “I love you, too, Margot Emory.”
She crushed her lips against his mouth then, tasting him, and then his hands were on her, undoing the ties of the wrap sweater she wore, feeling the silk of her skin beneath it. They fell onto the bed, which creaked faintly, and one by one the clothing they wore was tossed to the floor, until it was only the two of them, flesh to flesh, losing themselves in one another while the rain came down and the night became theirs, and theirs alone.
The next morning, Margot realized that probably the entire town of Jerome knew Lucas Wilcox had spent the night at her house. After all, it was pretty hard to hide a screaming-red Porsche, even on a rainy November evening. If she’d been thinking more clearly, she would have cast an illusion to hid the sports car, but she hadn’t been thinking about much of anything except being with Lucas. Since she figured she had very little left to lose, she went out to breakfast with him at the Flatiron Grill, then brought him back to her place, even as they passed Tobias Miller on his way down to his studio. Clearly he had spent the night up at Rachel’s, and so he just grinned at Margot and Lucas, said, “morning,” and continued on his way. It took a good deal to ruffle Tobias.