He smiled at my uncertainty. “You need to learn how to redirect the mark’s attention, moving so naturally that it doesn’t seem like you’re up to anything.” He fisted his hands and held them out. “Double or nothing for dessert tomorrow night. Did I move the coin or am I just playing on your expectations that I would?”
I looked into his eyes, trying to read them. Couldn’t. I slowly tapped his right hand.
He opened it. No coin. “Again, you’ve forgotten the all-important maxim about not betting with a thief.”
He opened his left hand and gave me the coin. “You try. If you can pull it off, I’ll give you tonight’s dessert back.”
It took me a minute before I could hold the coin by contracting my hand muscles. Then I flipped the coin, slapped it down on my other hand, and palmed the coin. Or at least I tried. The first four times, the coin tumbled to the ground. The fifth time it stayed fixed in my hand, but my fingers were stiff. They had to be for the coin to stay put. I made a fist with my empty hand, opened it to show it was empty, and with my other hand, produced the coin from Donovan’s ear. “Ta da. I hope it’s chocolate.”
He shook his head, unimpressed. “No dessert. It’s obvious you’re palming the coin. Besides, chocolate was a New World food. It didn’t become popular in Europe until after the Renaissance. Relax your fingers.”
He knew chocolate’s history? Who knew that sort of thing off the top of his head? Despite Donovan’s whole bad boy image, the guy was smart.
He put the coin in my palm, then flipped my hand over and adjusted my thumb and fingers, moving them into a more natural position. I probably should have concentrated on that and not the fact that he was touching me. His fingers were warm, gentle, practiced.
Practiced because he’s used to stealing things, I reminded myself. He wasn’t someone I should get involved with. Even if he was funny and charming and smart. Even if his eyes were the same color as the sky and had that same open, limitless quality. I absolutely couldn’t fall for Donovan, I wouldn’t let myself.
Chapter 20
I spent the next five minutes trying to make my hands look normal. At best, they looked mannequin-like. Donovan patiently watched me fumbling with the coin.
When I’d picked it up off the ground for the tenth time, I handed it back to Donovan and slumped on the bench with a defeated thump. “What’s the point of practicing this? We’re not going to pull coins from Queen Orlaith’s ears.”
“The point is,” he said, effortlessly flipping the coin upward, “you’re practicing stealth.” He plucked the coin from the air and tightened his fingers around it. “Tomorrow night you need to pull a heavy goblet from your pocket, set it on the table, pour any remaining elixir from one cup to the other, then pocket the queen’s goblet, all without her noticing.” He held his closed fist out. “Where’s the coin?”
It had to be in his hand. He hadn’t slapped—or pretended to slap it—onto the back of his other hand yet. “It’s in your fist.”
“See for yourself.” Donovan slowly opened his hand, finger by finger. It was empty.
“Where did the coin go?”
“Check in your right pocket.”
“It can’t be in my pocket.” He hadn’t come near enough to slip something into my pocket.
“Look,” he insisted. His blue eyes crinkled around the edges.
I slipped my hand into my pocket, and my fingers brushed against something small and circular. I pulled out the brass coin, astonished. “How did you do that?”
“Stealth, practice, and preparation.” He motioned to the coin. “Now keep working.”
“I watched you the whole time,” I protested. “Neither of your hands came near me.” I leaned toward him, looking him up and down as though I’d find some clue on his jacket. “Do the trick again. I need to figure it out.”
He tilted his chin knowingly. “You’re just trying to get out of practicing.”
I took his hand, turned it over, and put the coin in his palm. “Seriously, it’s going to bother me until I know.”
Donovan held the coin back out to me, refusing to do the trick. “You’ve gone to magic shows before. I bet you didn’t badger the magicians afterward and demand to know their secrets.”
“But I would have if I could have.”
Donovan laughed, flipped the coin in the air, and caught it. “Magicians don’t tell their secrets. If you want to know, it will cost you something.”
“What?”
“What are you offering?” He grinned, mischief lurking at the edges of his mouth. For someone who didn’t do sports, he liked playing games.
“Well . . .” I tapped my fingers against the bench, thinking, “Jade Blossom already granted you money, power, and an invisibility cloak. I, on the other hand, received a good voice, a part in a famous fairy tale, and Jason’s love. When you come down to it, I don’t have much to bargain with.”
The coin spun through the air above Donovan’s thumb, light flickering off its surface. “When you put it like that, you are at a disadvantage.”
“I’ll trade you Jason.”
“Not interested. But . . .” Donovan caught the coin and spun it into the air again. “If you agree to give me something I want, something small,” Donovan added. “I’ll tell you how I did the trick.”
“You’ve already got my desserts. What else do you want?”
“I haven’t thought of it yet. Eventually, I’m bound to want something—a drink of water, a foot massage . . .” He lifted his foot toward me on the bench. A layer of dirt covered his boot.
“Will your feet be clean?” I asked.
He didn’t move his foot. “You know, I probably saved you from drowning last night. Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to be my servant for life or something?”
I pushed his boot away. “Wrong fairy tale.”
He chuckled and set his foot on the ground. “You at least owe me eternal gratitude.”
“You already have that.”
He flipped the coin up higher. It spun, turning into a brass blur. On the way down, Donovan’s hand swooped out and grabbed the coin. With a closed fist, he held it out. “Were you paying attention that time?”
“I paid attention both times.”
“Then tell me where the coin is.”
I took hold of his hand in both of mine so he couldn’t get rid of the coin somehow. He let me peel his fingers apart, revealing his empty palm. Impossible.
“Look in your left pocket this time.”
I dropped his hand and scooted away. He didn’t move. His hands lay motionless in his lap. A smirk was firmly planted on his lips. I reached into my pocket and groaned. The coin was there. I pulled it out and turned it over. “How did you do that?”
“Grant me that unnamed favor, and I’ll let you know.”
My curiosity wouldn’t let me do anything else. “Okay, fine. But the favor can’t be worse than a dirty foot rub.”
“Worse than a dirty foot rub?” he protested, all offended dignity. “I bet there was a time when you would have paid to rub Jason’s feet, dirty or not.”
“Stop changing the subject. You’re telling me how to do the trick.”
“Stealth, practice, and preparation.” He put his arms behind him on the bench and leaned back, smirk still going full force. “I think I want a foot rub now.”
“Speaking of you promising to tell me things and then not doing it—you never told me how you got your fairy godmother.”
“I believe I told you it wouldn’t make you feel better, and you didn’t press the point.”
“I’m pressing the point now.”
Donovan leaned forward and took the coin from my hand. “Okay, here’s how I did the trick.”
“Your story must be something really embarrassing if you don’t want to tell me after I admitted throwing up in front of TV cameras.”
Donovan held up the coin. “Stealth. Like most magic tricks, the secret lies in directing the audience’s attention to what you want them to see.” He tossed the coin into the air again, high and fast. “This time watch my left hand instead of my right.”