Charlie followed the directions Margaret had given her the night before, wondering again why something about her dinner invitation had seemed off. But just like all the other times she’d thought about it, she couldn’t pinpoint what had caught her attention. Michael had warned her about his mother when she’d told him where she was going to for dinner that night. According to him, she was bossy and loved to stick her nose in other people’s business but was basically harmless.
“Just watch out; she’ll want to know your entire history before she even serves dinner, and whatever you tell her, the whole town will know by tomorrow morning,” he said, grinning at her.
Tempted to turn around, she hesitated, but the door flew open. “Good, you found us,” she said, pulling Charlie into the house. “Dinner isn’t quite ready, so we’ll go on back to the den. Arthur is back there; you haven’t met him yet.”
She let Margaret strip her coat off her, then followed her down a hallway to a huge room with soaring ceilings and the biggest fireplace she’d ever seen, the logs burning brightly inside warming the entire room. Margaret led her over to an older man sitting in a chair by the fire. He had an old book open in his lap, and he didn’t seem to notice them at first.
“Arthur, darling,” Margaret said. “Our first guest is here; put that away for now.”
He raised his eyes and met Margaret’s, and almost instantly, she could sense the bond between the two; it shimmered in the air around them, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry, my dear, you know how easily I lose track of time,” he said, setting aside the book and getting to his feet.
“Arthur Miller,” he said, holding out his hand.
She slipped her hand into his; surprised to feel a hum of power in his grip, she stumbled over her words. “Charlie McKenesy. It’s nice to meet you.” Her eyes focused on their joined hands.
When she finally looked up at Arthur, he was smiling at her. “You felt that too,” he said, more a statement than a question. “Interesting.”
Charlie let go of his hand, embarrassed. “I... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she said.
Arthur didn’t say anything, just studied her, tipping his head one way then the other. “You’re Roger’s girl,” he finally said. “Roger McKensey.”
“You know my father?” Charlie asked, surprised.
“We were in training together way back when, kept up with each other for a while, but you know how that goes. We haven’t spoken for decades,” Arthur said, still studying her. “How is he?”
She was beginning to get uncomfortable with his close scrutiny. “He’s fine. I talked to him just a few days ago,” she said.
Arthur nodded. “You know, I always thought he had a son, but here you are,” he said, looking at her with interest.
Again, that strange feeling came over her, a feeling that something was happening that she didn’t understand. “My father trained me,” she said, for lack of anything better to say.
The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted them before Arthur could say anything else. “Oh, that must be Michael and Amy,” Margaret said. “I thought it might be nice for us to have some company.”
***Vincent***
When Vincent walked into the den, the first thing he did was search for Charlie, then quickly looked away. “Look, everyone, Vincent is here,” Margaret called. “I’ve asked him to join us.”
“I just came by to drop off some festival stuff,” he said, “but how can I refuse your cooking, Margaret?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie shifting nervously in her chair, but he still didn’t look over at her. Instead, he greeted Michael and Amy, then moved on to the two women he’d had Margaret invite; both friends since grade school, it had only taken a small bribe to get them to participate in his little ruse.
“Stephanie, it’s nice to see you; it’s been a while,” he said, greeting the pretty blonde he’d once taken to prom. Then he turned to the other woman. “Tabitha, how are you? I haven’t seen you around town much lately.”
Not daring to look over at Charlie, he sat down on the couch between the two women and made himself comfortable while they made small talk. When Margaret called them all to dinner, he finally glanced over at her, thrilled to see a scowl on her face as she got to her feet. Margaret saw it too and raised her eyebrows at him, but he only smiled and offered an arm to both women, then escorted them out of the room.
Once in the dining room, he tried not to laugh as Margaret moved people from seat to seat around the table until Charlie was squeezed between him and Michael on one side of the table. “There, I think that will work,” she said, finally taking her seat.
Charlie was staring down at her plate, shifting nervously in her seat. “I’m surprised to see you here,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize you’d met Margaret.”
She looked over at him and a wave of desire raced through him. “I met her last night at the restaurant. I didn’t expect all this when she invited me over for dinner,” she said, a suspicious look on her face. “Did you arrange this dinner?”
Vincent pretended to be shocked. “I just stopped by to drop some stuff off,” he said.
Charlie studied him for a second. “I don’t know if I believe you,” she said.
“Would it be so wrong if I did?” he asked. “Maybe it was the only way I could think of to get to see you.”
***Charlie***
Charlie hated the fact that Vincent’s question was impossible to answer. When he’d walked through the door, the punch of desire that hit her had left her momentarily stunned. All she could think about in that second was jumping up and throwing herself in his arms; then he’d started flirting, and jealousy had nearly eaten her up. If he was playing games with her, it was working, and she hated that even more.
She opened her mouth to tell him that his game wasn’t going to work, but Margaret interrupted her. “Do you have a date for the Medieval Ball, Charlie?” she asked, an innocent look on her face.
Flustered for a second, Charlie didn’t answer right away. “I wasn’t planning on going,” she finally said. “I don’t have a dress or anything.”
Margaret waved her hand in the air. “Oh, that’s not a problem. I have a closet full of dresses you could wear, most women in town do,” she said, then turned to Vincent. “What about you? I talked to your mother the other day, but she never did tell me who you’re taking. Don’t tell me that you’re going alone again this year.”
“Mother, what are you up to?” Michael asked. “Leave Vincent alone.”
“I’m not up to anything,” she said. “I was just asking a question.”
“I’m not going with anyone,” Vincent said, looking over at Charlie.
Margaret clapped her hands together. “I just had the most wonderful idea,” she said, grinning. “Charlie and Vincent should go together.”
“Mother!” Michael said, his voice threatening. “Don’t meddle.”
“I’m not meddling. I’m just saying that neither of them has a date, they should go together,” she said.
When Michael gave her a disapproving look, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, a hurt look on her face, and Vincent wanted to cheer her performance. “Fine, I’ll stay out of it.”
Then, right on cue, Stephanie piped up. “If Charlie doesn’t want to go with you, I will. We had a lot of fun at prom.”
“I don’t have a date either,” Tabitha threw in. “I wasn’t planning on going, but for you, I could make an exception.”
Charlie knew what was going on, knew that Vincent was trying to make her jealous, and wanted to punch him because it was working. Trying to stay strong, trying to resist the impulse to punch both women smiling at Vincent and giving him the eye, she kept her mouth shut, afraid of what might come out if she opened it. She wasn’t sure how he’d arranged it, but she had the feeling that he’d set her up.
“Well, I suppose I could take both of you,” Vincent said, winking at t
hem.
Both women giggled, a sound that grated on her nerves, and she knew that she couldn’t take any more. “If you have a dress I can wear, I’ll go,” she blurted out, wincing at how loud her words sounded in the room.
“Oh, good,” Margaret said. “We’ll have to look for a dress after dinner.”
A look of satisfaction appeared on Vincent’s face, but he quickly wiped it away and started eating his dinner as if he were completely innocent. She wanted to kick him under the table but picked up her fork and began to eat as if going to the ball with Vincent was no big deal. But she knew that she’d been tricked, that the entire night had been for one purpose and one purpose only, and she’d fallen for it.
Chapter Fifteen
***Vincent***
Vincent was still gloating about how well his plan was going when he walked into the newspaper office the next morning, but the feeling didn’t last long when he saw the look on Janice’s face. “It’s about time you got here,” she said, handing him a stack of phone messages. “The crews have been out since dawn, and there are problems that need to be handled.”
This was the first he’d heard of a dawn start, an old custom that he’d done away with that year. “And why have they been out since dawn? I’m pretty sure I set the start time for nine,” he said, watching Janice.
She looked a bit guilty but returned his gaze. “That’s the way it’s been done forever; there didn’t seem to be any need to change that,” she said.
“Only the fact that it doesn’t take as long to set up as it used to,” he said.
Janice pointed to the messages in his hand. “Are you sure about that?”
He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder...” He stopped himself from saying what he was thinking, turned, and headed for the door. “I’ll be down at town square.”
As he walked through the door, he heard Janice mumble, “Where you should have been at dawn.”
Thumbing through the messages as he walked down the street, he realized that there were only minor problems and decided to make a stop at the restaurant. When he came out the door a few minutes later, he was carrying a box full of steaming cups of coffee, the busboy, Max, trailing along behind him carrying every doughnut they’d had. He was greeted with cheers from the crew. Soon, it had all disappeared, and he sent Max back with a fat tip.
By the time he’d dealt with all the small problems that had popped up that morning, including mitigating a fight between one of the men hanging lights and a squirrel, it was after lunch, and he was more than ready for a break. He’d have to head back down there late in the afternoon, but he’d circulated his cell number to bypass Janice and left instructions to call him with any problems.
He was headed to the restaurant for lunch, but saw the crowd inside and kept going, deciding instead to go home. There were still a few details he had to work out before the ball the next night, and Adam was the next helper on his list. Since he owed him, he had no doubt he’d get what he wanted, but it was going to take him some time to figure it out, and he only had a day and a half to do it.
His mind brimming with plans for the ball, he wasn’t prepared to walk into the newspaper and find Janice and Charlie going head to head. “I just need to put these boxes in his office,” Charlie said. “You can come with me and watch if you want to; all I’m going to do is stack the boxes back in the corner and leave.”
Janice shook her head. “No one goes into Vincent’s office if he’s not here,” she said. “I let you do it once before, and he laid into me something fierce.”
“Fine,” Charlie said, looking around. “I’ll just leave them here.”
“You can’t do that,” Janice screeched, but Charlie just ignored her and set the box on the reception desk, then turned to leave.
She froze when she saw him, their eyes locked from across the room, and his heart began to pound in his chest as desire flooded him. Charlie must have had the same reaction, he decided happily when her cheeks flushed and the little vein in her neck began to pound. He felt the connection between them click into place, felt something pulling them together, and took a step toward her.
He knew that Janice was staring at them, felt her assessing the situation, but didn’t care. “Vincent, she wanted me to let her into your office,” she said, breaking the spell, forcing him to look over at her.
“Charlie is always allowed into my office, whether I’m here or not,” he said, then looked back over at Charlie, who was still staring at him.
“But you said—” Janice tried to argue.
“There are exceptions to every rule,” he said, his eyes locked on Charlie’s. “Nothing is ever black and white. Occasionally, we have to bend the rules or even change them when it makes sense. The problem is, sometimes we don’t see that until it’s too late.”
Janice sat down in her chair. “I think you’ve lost your mind,” she said, then glared at Charlie. “Can you get this box off my desk?”
“I’ll take it,” he said, walking over and picking up the box, very aware that Charlie’s eyes followed his every movement.
He started for his office, then looked over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
She followed him without a word but stayed in the doorway. “I have the other boxes in my truck,” she said. “They’re mostly full of old records; some of them are very old.”
“It’s probably all of them, people around here like to save things,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and walking over to her. “Did you find a dress for the ball?”
“I’m on my way out to Margaret’s house now, but I’m not sure I want to go,” she said. “I mean it’s not really my thing. You should take Stephanie or Tabitha; they both want to go.”
Vincent studied her for a second, sensing the jealousy behind her words, and decided to push her just a little more. “What’s the matter, Charlie? Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
***Charlie***
Charlie wanted to scream, wanted to run her hands all over Vincent, and then let him do things to her no man had ever done, but she clenched her fists at her sides and waited until the feeling passed. “I know you tricked me into this,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’re playing with fire, Vincent, and we’re both going to get burned.”
“Then you’re still going?” he asked, a huge grin on his face.
She sighed. “Against my better judgment, but don’t get any ideas in your head. We’re going to the ball together, and that’s it, nothing else.”
He gave her another one of those grins that made her heart flutter. “Whatever you say, Charlie: you’re the boss,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “Have fun picking out a dress.”
There was nothing more to say at that point, and she desperately needed to get away from Vincent, so she turned and walked out of the office. Once on the sidewalk, she stood taking deep breaths, waiting for her body to calm down, but just as her equilibrium began to return, she felt Vincent’s hands on her shoulders. He spun her around, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her until she was breathless.
When he let her go, he grinned at her and said, “I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night,” then disappeared back inside.
Slightly dazed, she got into the truck, then saw the rest of the boxes, but after only a moment’s consideration decided that she wasn’t going back inside. They could wait, and she was a little late. Margaret was expecting her, she told herself as she pulled onto Main Street, so she wasn’t running away. She was so distracted thinking about Vincent, she almost missed the turn, but tires screeching, she hit the dirt road.
When she pulled up in front of the house, she laid her head down on the steering wheel and closed her eyes, trying to get control of her thoughts. If she kept thinking about Vincent, it was going to be impossible to resist him, she had to focus on something else. Had to stop thinking about how it felt to be in his arms, stop thinking about that moment when their eyes had met and the connection between them had warmed her deep in
side.
Those were dangerous thoughts: thoughts that would get her in trouble, thoughts that could lead down a road she wasn’t ready to take. She had to remember why she was there, the promises she made, and the duty she had to her family. Picking up her head, she told herself that the ball was just a part of the job, something she had to do to fit into the community. She’d choose a suitable dress, spend only as long as she had to at the party, then pretend that she didn’t feel well and have Vincent take her home.
Margaret answered door with an excited, “Oh good, here you are. I made cookies if you want a little something before we get started. I have tea, coffee, and cocoa.”
“I’m okay, thank you,” she said. “I had a big lunch.”
“Oh, well then, shall we get right to it?” Margaret said. “I have the perfect dress for you. I haven’t worn it in a long time, and I think it’s time it made a comeback.”
She led Charlie down the hallway to a bedroom, then opened the closet to reveal dresses in a rainbow of colors, from midnight blue to pale pink. “As you know, authenticity is very important to the festival, and we extend that tradition to the ball,” Margaret said, shoving most of the dresses aside to reveal a white garment bag. “This dress has been in my family for generations, passed down from mother to daughter, and I’d like you to wear it.”
“Oh, Margaret, I couldn’t,” she said, waving the dress away. “I’m sure there’s something else in there that would be more—”
“Nonsense,” Margaret interrupted. “Amy can’t wear it this year; eventually, it will go to her, but this year, it’s yours. I insist.”
Charlie knew when she’d been beaten, and took the dress from Margaret, hoping it wouldn’t fit. “Maybe I should try it on first; it might not fit,” she said.
“Oh, it will fit, but there’s a bathroom right there, so go try it on,” Margaret said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I can’t wait to see it on you.”
Dragon Hero (Guardian Dragons 0f Prospect Falls Book 3) Page 9