“Do you believe in magic, Emma?” Ricco said in that soothing, sexy voice of his. He motioned for me to stay back so as not to startle her. She looked up and never noticed me. Instead she saw this handsome man smiling at her and, to my surprise, she didn’t run.
She looked, well . . .
Enchanted.
She wasn’t alone. I hadn’t forgotten our sexy kiss, nor the heat in Ricco’s eyes when he looked at me. Like he had no intention of letting me forget it. I’d kissed him again.
A peck on the cheek.
Okay, so I chickened out. I didn’t have the nerve for anything else. He didn’t kiss me back, just smiled at me, but I could see he was trying to figure me out. It was madness. Me standing there like a department store dummy and him telling me I was the prettiest girl in Monterra. I didn’t believe a word of it. Most likely his fancy speech was an act for the tourists, so why was I getting all steamed up?
He found Emma. That was all that mattered.
But Ricco had no intention of leaving. He asked my sister if she’d like to see a magic trick. She nodded.
“Bene. I just happen to have a deck of cards.” He winked at me. Was he a professional gambler? I should grab Emma and run, but something about his fascinating voice and warm manner toward my little sister made me stay. I might regret it, but I didn’t make a move. I was as curious as she was when he drew a pack of cards from his jeans pocket and snapped open the box.
“Choose a card, Emma,” he said, shuffling the deck and fanning it so she could pick one. I peeked and saw that she picked the Queen of Hearts. She gave me a funny look that said she’d seen me kiss him. I pretended my brash action meant nothing, but I didn’t fool her. She smirked and kept the card hidden from him. “Buono,” he said. “Now return it to the top of the pack.”
Emma did as he asked. We watched as he shuffled the deck with an amazing flair, cards flying through the air like they had wings.
“What happens next?” I asked, curious to see where this was going.
“I will show you that anything is possible in Monterra, signorina.” He removed three cards facedown and laid them on top of my suitcase. “If you wish hard enough.”
Every time he looked at me like that, I wanted to kiss him again. God knows I wouldn’t be that stupid. Still, he couldn’t know what I was thinking, could he?
He could.
“I will also astound you with the power of my mind.”
“You can read minds?” I said.
“May I read yours?” he asked, making me blush.
“No, just the cards.” I looked up to see Emma watching us. She couldn’t get the grin off her face. The situation was getting out of hand, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t flattered by his attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if he met all the trains and preyed upon helpless female tourists. I wondered what his game was.
“Now I will use my willpower to send my thoughts to you.” He pressed his hand to his forehead for a moment, then turned and grinned at me. “Please touch the card your sister picked.”
Really? I had no doubt he’d melt any woman’s willpower with that smile, but I played along, not believing a word he said. I touched the card in the middle. “Emma picked this one.”
He turned it over. The ten of clubs. Wrong card.
“Your beauty distracts me, bella, try again.”
This time Emma touched the card. Four of spades.
“It must be the next card, signorina,” Ricco said with confidence. “Please try again.”
I had to stand up to reach the card sitting on the far end of the suitcase and in doing so, I brushed his arm. He was so close to me, I could smell an undertone of musk that did things to me I didn’t want to think about. I was so flustered, I didn’t even look when he turned over the card.
Jack of Spades.
He looked truly mystified. “I don’t understand it. This has never happened before.” He turned to Emma. “Which card did you take?”
She signed, Queen of Hearts.
“Queen of Hearts,” I repeated, though I had a suspicion he already knew by the devilish lift of his brow.
Then he did the unexpected. He laid out all the cards on top of my suitcase and shuffled through them. “No Queen of Hearts here.” He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Unless I count the beautiful signorinia.”
“I’m sorry your trick didn’t work.” I really was sorry, but rather than let this go any further, I jumped off the suitcase I was sitting on. “We can’t stay any longer. Emma and I have to check in at the hostel.”
“Ah, ha!” Ricco called out, sweeping me into his arms and swinging me around in a circle. “I have found my Queen of Hearts!”
I blinked. He didn’t mean me.
Nope. He pointed to the card sitting on the upright suitcase.
“What?” I said, surprised to see I was sitting on the card the whole time. “How did you do that?”
“I never give away my secrets,” he said, taking my hand and kissing my palm. A strange, warm funny feeling filled me up inside. “Even to a woman as beautiful as you.”
I stopped breathing in an attempt to still my racing pulse. His muscular arms and broad chest would tempt any girl, and yes, my eyes wandered up and down this yummy-looking man. This was turning into a bad habit I had to break. Now.
“Thank you for finding my sister,” I managed to say without stuttering.
“My pleasure, signorina. And thank you for the reward.” He smacked his lips, making me want to sink into a hole. A big one. “I would offer to take you to the hostel, but I have only one seat on the back of my motorbike.”
I nodded, understanding, but that didn’t stop my overactive imagination from placing my butt on that seat and going with him in my mind. Where did I get such ideas?
Instead, I said, “The van from the festival office was supposed to pick us up.”
“Of course. You are a performer.” He smiled like I said we were visiting film stars, which shot my ego up as high as the mountain. My ears popped. “I hope to see you in your beautiful costume.” He looked me up and down as if imagining how I looked in that beaded bra. I wished Emma had used more fabric and less sequins. I couldn’t stop the embarrassment tinting my cheeks pink.
“I fly on the aerial silks,” I said.
“I imagine you look like an angel with your long hair flowing.”
Oh, oh, dangerous territory. Add more compliments like this, and I’d be over the moon in no time. I stored it away in the box of Monterran memories I was already collecting. They’d come in handy on a cold Philly night.
“Could you call us a taxi?” I said, trying to keep my cool. It wasn’t easy.
“No need for that,” he said with a gallant smile. “I shall have the royal car pick you up.”
“Royal car?”
“Si, I work for the Fiorelli family.”
“You do?”
“I’m helping set things up over at the festival grounds.” He didn’t elaborate.
“What it’s like working for the royals?” I asked, curious. “I wouldn’t know how to act around someone who wasn’t working class like my sister and me. Especially the prince and princess. They’re . . . well, different.”
“The royal family here in Monterra is, how do you say, fantastico!”
“You mean they’re not snobs,” I said, hoping it was true.
“Not at all. Especially Princess Katerina. She would be distressed to find out her countrywomen were stranded at the train station with no one to come to their aid.”
“Don’t bother her, please.”
“I insist. I will call her office for you.”
Royal, car, us? Was he serious?
Before I could stop him, he was on his cell, speaking in rapid Italian and gesturing wildly, smiling and nodding his head. He clicked off his phone. “The royal car will be here in ten minutes.”
“Thanks.” What else do you say to a guy who just saved your butt? I couldn’t help but lower my eyes and sneak a peek at him from under my lashes. If I wasn’t in such a mental pickle, I’d be having the time of my life. This gorgeous guy saved Emma, ogled my beaded costume bra, and didn’t blow me off when I kissed him. And now like magic, our fairy tale carriage was on its way.
I wanted to kiss him again, but I’m not that dumb to think I could get away with it twice. I guess I’m giddy because I can’t believe this is happening to me. We’re two sisters who live in a red brick row house in need of repair. You know the drill. One tiny bathroom, a porch with a swing, and a basement with a working coal chute. Hot and sticky in the summer and freezing in the winter. How many times on a summer day would I push aside the red and white checkered curtain in the kitchen fluttering about like a butterfly? Look out, and dream of something like this happening to me. Then reality would sink in when a humid breeze from the nearby waterfront blew in and tickled my nose, making me gag. You couldn’t escape the smell of rotting garbage, reminding me where I was.
But we always had food on the table, well, most of the time, and spent evenings sitting on the porch because it was so hot inside the house. I’d hold onto the white crisscross railing and look out, pretending I was standing on the bow of a ship taking me to faraway places, while Emma sewed her buttons and bows.
And now we were here.
In Monterra.
In a place so far away from the acrid smells of the city, I could bust with excitement.
“I regret, signorina,” Ricco said, stuffing his cell into his pocket. “I must leave you. I have much work to do for the royal family before the festival opens. But I assure you, we shall meet again.”
He had a look on his face that combined both charm and confidence as he set off toward the parking lot of the train station. I wondered if he ever thought about doing his card tricks at the festival. Magicians would be performing at the pavilions during the week. Why not Ricco?
“Thank you…grazie,” I called after him. I sat on my suitcase, shading my eyes from the glare of the sun with my hand. Watching him take long, purposeful strides, hoping he didn’t disappear back into the mist. I’d be devastated if he did.
Emma grabbed my arm and said in sign language, “Who is he?”
“A knight in shining armor,” I said, grinning. “Monterra really is the land of fairy tales.”
I sat there, waiting for the royal car to show up. I was secretly happy he wasn’t a stuck-up, royal playboy you read about in the tabloids. Still, I didn’t come here for romance. I came to Monterra to fly high on the aerial silks. Romance was the last thing I needed. No man could totally understand that in the end Emma came first. She needed me and I’d never let her down.
Like an apple falling from a tree, I’d never be far away.
I felt responsible for her retreating into her world of silence.
I’ll never forget that winter day. Cold and snowy. I was performing on the aerial hoop in a charity event. My dad finally agreed to come see me after I cajoled him with my artful plea that I was the featured act. He’d never seen me perform on the lyra. Besides, I told him, I didn’t want Emma to take the El downtown by herself. A ploy, yes, but I so wanted to get my dad out of his doldrums. Be a family again. I begged him to pick her up at home after he got off work so they could both watch my routine.
Black slush filled the streets after a snowstorm dumped seven inches of the stuff earlier in the week. Dangerous to drive in. I should have used my head. Not begged him to come because I needed his approval. Dad wasn’t going to change because I wanted him to. He was drinking as usual and never should have gotten behind the wheel, but he did. He was killed when he skidded into a light pole on our street. Emma was waiting for him outside on the stoop and saw it happen. The horrific crash. Then the fire. Hot flames, putrid smoke pouring out of the wrecked vehicle. Thank God, a neighbor helped her drag him out of the car. Then it started to snow. Light then heavy. Emma told me afterward that she’d never forget the soft snow flurries covering his bleeding face and broken body.
As if the angels fashioned a white mantle over him to carry him to heaven.
That was the last time she spoke.
My life stopped that night. I blamed myself. Not just for Dad’s death, but for what happened to Emma. She didn’t sleep for days afterward. Nothing I said comforted her, made her utter a word. The doctors said she’d speak again when she was ready. That could take years. I understood. It was up to me to keep her safe, let her stay in her world of silence if that was what she needed to heal.
So you see why romance in my life is out of the question. Lord knows I’ve tried. I’m pushing twenty-four (Emma was the product of a night of passion when my mother showed up between traveling circuses), but I never hang around a guy long enough to get serious. I suspect it’s because I don’t want to be like my mother. Running off, then no word from her. That hurt.
After the accident Emma needed me more than ever, so I gave up dating. I discovered most guys don’t want a woman with baggage. Seventeen-year-old baggage. The last guy I dated, a smooth talker I met on the El, bailed soon after he met Emma. He didn’t understand me taking care of her. Didn’t want to.
Adios.
I sensed Ricco wasn’t like that. He was wildly sensual, his rugged body speaking to me in every move he made, but he switched to a protector when he talked to Emma. Made me feel protected, too. I liked that. Sometimes, I wish I had someone to lean on, but I don’t, so I get on with it and pretend I’m stronger than I am.
Thinking of him and his magic hands, I remembered the feel of his lips on mine. I’ve never kissed anyone like that before. Never felt such an electrical surge spring through me like a jolt of lightning. Quick, only a second or two, but it radiated through me. I’ll never forget how his body tensed, his muscles hardened into tight knots. I was so happy with his arms wrapped around me. I wondered if he was into magic beyond his card tricks. It didn’t matter.
The real magic was in his kiss.