by Marie Harte
She stood suddenly. “Um, Gretchen? I’ll be right back.”
Gretchen winked at her. “If I wasn’t sixty-eight, I might make a play for him myself. I’ll be here.” She held up her cup of tea and raised it in appreciation, then took a drink and turned to converse with her neighbor.
Heather took the opportunity to slide away from the tea party, as she’d come to calling the group that met regularly outside Edda’s Tea Shop, and looked for the stranger. She spotted his vehicle and noted the rental tags. Not a local, then. Shit.
Hurrying to the most probable place he’d gone, she entered the pub and overheard him say, “So how long has Heather been here?” Heather. Damn. He knew her name.
She rushed to his side and put on the brightest smile she could. “I can’t believe you’re here! Sorry, but the light was behind you outside, and I almost didn’t recognize you.” Heather hugged him hard, dragging his head closer so she could whisper, “My name is Heather Wurtz. Hug me back, damn it.”
He didn’t falter and swept her into a bone-crushing hug. He nuzzled her cheek, sending shivers down her spine, and whispered back, “Jack Harmon. Strawman sent me.”
Owen had sent this man. Strawman was the code word Owen used to prove association. Whoever else this guy might be, her brother trusted him to come after her.
When they finished embracing, Jack kept a muscled arm around her. Up close, he set her libido on high alert. But that wasn’t all. Her ability to heal sensed deep wounds in this man, and she had the crazy notion to plaster herself to him and inhale him, one kiss at a time, until he recovered from past trauma and she reached orgasm.
So unlike her. Sex and healing had never been joined together, in any way.
She squirmed, and he tightened his grip on her shoulder. He had killer eyes, light gray one moment and then a hint of blue the next. But that fierce expression, coupled with his incredible size and breadth of muscle, warned her to tread carefully. For all that the guy had a rough kind of handsome sexiness going on, he also had a serial-killer vibe she’d need to keep an eye on.
Hans at the bar stared at him with suspicion. “You aren’t part of the ski group, are you? How did you get here?”
“Ski group?” She and Jack asked at the same time.
Heather talked over him. “Hans, I’ve been here for two weeks and haven’t seen anyone but the locals.”
“Of course not, sweetheart.” Hans grinned. “We keep family tight, right here.” He patted his chest. “The stupid Americans and the idiot locals are kept outside the yellow gate, the one by Jan’s cottage.” Hans blinked at Jack. “Jan… Of course. Forgive me. Jan said you’d be coming.”
“He did?” Jack’s deep voice soothed her, despite the tenor that sounded more like the growl of a hungry beast.
“Yes. We’ve been more than curious about Heather’s boyfriend.”
Oh boy, that was all she needed. An imaginary lover. Heather said in a rush, “I need to take him to see Aunt Ida. I know she can’t wait to see him again, and she told me to let her know as soon as he arrived. We’ll be back later, though.”
Hans nodded. When Jack tried to pay him for the beer, Hans shook his head. “No, not for Heather’s man. You go and settle in.” Jack stuck out his hand, and Hans shook it, grunting. “Firm, strong shake. It’s good you came to Drei-Gewalten. We need to build our stock and let it grow.”
Stock? “Drei-Gewalten. Great name for a town, huh?” she said to get Jack up to speed.
He didn’t bat an eye and nodded. “Great name. Let’s go see Aunt Ida, honey.”
She didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until they left the pub and headed down the street, away from the tea shop.
“Yeah, we can catch up at Aunt Ida’s, for sure.” She squeezed his hand in hers. He squeezed back, and it didn’t escape her notice that his palm completely covered hers. When she tried to discreetly tug her hand away, he wouldn’t let go.
“That we will, sweetheart. I can’t wait.”
Chapter Two
Jack had no idea what he’d stumbled onto, but he knew when to play the game and bide his time. That Heather felt the need to lie warned him to be wary, even if the odd surges of power running through his body hadn’t already made him cautious. He let her drag him some distance down the street and into a cobblestone alley before he pulled her into an empty alcove.
He backed her against a wooden door under a shadowed archway. No one had entered the alleyway after them, and he couldn’t sense anyone near, so he took advantage of their sudden privacy. In a low growl, he ordered, “Give me the quick version. Now.”
She tried to move away, but there was nowhere for her to go. When she brushed against his chest, ineffectively attempting to push back, his entire body throbbed like one big ball of need. He saw an answering flare of desire in her eyes, both unnerving and satisfying that the unwanted attraction didn’t seem to be all on his end.
Flattening herself against the door, she frowned and in a throaty whisper answered, “This isn’t the place. Owen really sent you?”
He nodded. “He’s worried and wants you back like yesterday.”
She blew out a breath. “Terrific. Look, we need to be somewhere private before I can tell you what you need to know.” She lowered her voice to the merest whisper. “It’s not safe out here.”
“I don’t think you want to be anywhere private with me right now.” He moved closer so that she couldn’t mistake his erection pressed against her hips.
Her eyes widened. “Y-you…”
“Yeah. This whole fucking town is like a cauldron of energy. I’m on fire from head to toe.” Let her believe the swirling energy was to blame for his perpetual hard-on and not that he’d been fascinated by her since he’d first seen her picture. He stepped back, giving her a little space.
“Right.”
She let out a soft breath, and the scent of minty chocolate washed over him.
“Quick version—the town is sitting on what they call the Source. It’s a well of power you can feel. Everyone with psychic sensitivity senses it, which in this case is nearly all of Drei-Gewalten. Oh, and they hate Stallbridges, so anyone having anything to do with my family is likely to be imprisoned or killed on sight.”
“What?” Even for a PowerUp! case, this was weird.
“That’s the quick version.” She latched on to his sweater and jerked him so that she practically kissed his ear before she added in a whisper, “I can’t talk about this out here, not without someone possibly overhearing. We’ll be safer at Ida’s.” Heather pulled back, and the searching look she gave him told him she didn’t put him in the same trust category as Ida. Not that he blamed her.
It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. “You sure you can trust her?”
“More than I trust you. She’s known who I am the whole time I’ve been here. She’s the one who told me to pretend to be her long-lost niece.”
“Okay.”
She stared at him for a moment and bit her lower lip. Then she asked, “Owen’s worried?”
“Yeah. He’s pissed he can’t find you. What the fuck are you doing out here? And why the hell is that weird reverb still echoing through my body?”
Footsteps sounded from a short distance away. They both froze.
And then he made a choice, a bad one. He kissed her. What he’d thought might prove a decent cover—that of a man and woman in a sexual clinch—soon turned all too real. Heat blazed throughout his body as the scent and taste of the woman he embraced went straight to his head.
Her hands pressed against his chest again. She opened her mouth, no doubt in protest, then sighed into his mouth and met his searching tongue with her own. She ran her palms over his chest to his shoulders and around his neck. The feel of her soft hands against his skin made him growl, and he yanked her harder against him.
All thought fled. With nothing but instinct to guide him, Jack fully intended to bury himself in her right here, right now. He deepened the kiss and
felt her breath hitch as she melted into him. So fucking good. He palmed her ass and ground her against him. Then he put a hand between them and pushed under her sweater. Her full breast sat heavily in his palm, and he squeezed, loving the feel of her tight nipple through the lacy bra.
She gasped his name and moaned, clenching his neck with strong fingers. A blaze of energy whispered through him, different from the power under his feet, and seemed to come from Heather.
Immediately distrustful, he pulled his mouth away and blinked down into her cloudy green eyes. Suspicion faded as lust overwhelmed him once more. Damn, he wanted to watch her come around him, to see the pleasure blossoming on her face explode into a full-out orgasm.
“Not here, you two.” An old man chuckled as he continued past them. “Young people.”
She and Jack tensed, breathing hard. He slowly removed his hand from under her sweater, and she withdrew her hands from around his neck. She’d been standing on tiptoe, and the disparity in their sizes enhanced his need to claim and protect. The rational part of him told him to step back and reassess the situation. Especially since he hadn’t heard that old man beyond the onset of footsteps, which should have warned Jack to pull away.
He bleakly remembered the last time he’d been caught so off guard. Melissa. That lying bitch had nearly had him killed, and she’d controlled him like a puppet on strings, managing to get under his guard. A lot like this woman, and he hadn’t felt a tenth for Melissa as he did for this sexy stranger.
Jack mentally pulled himself together and glared down at Heather. She seemed a little too cool for his liking. “What the fuck was that?” he hissed.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t sound winded or upset, and her unflappable composure bothered the shit out of him.
“Great. Don’t do it again.” He completely ignored the fact he’d initiated the kiss. Still trying to restore his body to calm, he yanked her out of the alcove. “Ida’s. Now.”
“Don’t get all huffy, Jack.” She smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Aunt Ida’s is the blue cottage around the corner. Come on.”
He let her pull away from him this time, because holding her felt too right. It had taken him years to get over Melissa’s perfidy, and to say he had trust issues was an understatement. He got on well with his PowerUp! team members, mostly because he remained in control. The PowerUp! Gym provided a place where he and his team could keep in physical and mental shape while they secretly worked out their psychic skills. He trusted Kitty, his day manager, without reserve. The empath knew his secrets and had never betrayed him. Then again, he wasn’t involved in a personal relationship with her. Kitty had his back on missions and at work. The rest of the team pulled together to accomplish the mission. He trusted them to get the job done but nothing more than that.
Jack didn’t have a personal life. He didn’t need or want one, contrary to what his team said behind his back, what they thought he didn’t hear: Lone wolf, hard-ass, monster of a boss, dickhead. He accepted his solitary nature. He just wished everyone else would as well.
Time to get his head on straight and remember that Heather Stallbridge was a job and nothing more. Sister to his business partner, Owen, and his current case. Period. End of story.
If only he didn’t know how she tasted and felt under his hands.
He narrowed his gaze on the back of her head and followed her to a pretty blue cottage that looked like something out of a fairy tale.
A look around showed much of the same up and down the street. Quaint, Bavarian-style architecture lined the houses pressed against one another. Only the blue cottage stood apart, with dark red geraniums and purple pansies clustered in window boxes under two large, paned windows.
A petite bistro sat outside the front door, caged in by a tiny yard with a wooden fence. It felt like Hansel and Gretel might pop in for a visit at any moment. The rest of the town seemed as charming, with uncluttered walkways free of litter and debris. Only the sweet scent of flowers and freshly made bread filled the crisp mountain air.
The power that swelled under his feet seemed welcoming, accepting, and before he knew it, he’d let it in, allowing it to strengthen and refresh him after so many days spent searching.
Heather reached for his hand, and he tensed when she curled her fingers around his. “Don’t open yourself up too much. It’s addicting; trust me.”
She knew. How she knew, he couldn’t say. But the woman read him, and he didn’t like it any more than he’d liked kissing her. Touching her. Grinding against her.
Fuck. His hard-on ached, and he glared down at the top of her golden head as they waited for someone to answer her knock on the door.
The door opened, and a frail old woman with blazing blue eyes stared out at them. Her long white hair lay in a braid over her shoulder, and though she seemed petite and stood slightly bent over, he sensed a core of deep strength within her. Not someone to underestimate.
She smiled at him, wisdom shining in the depths of her gaze. “Welcome.” Like the rest of the town, she spoke in German.
He answered in kind. “Thank you.” He followed Heather inside into a warm living space. A sofa and love seat surrounded an antique coffee table and side tables. A few magazines and books sat in a nearby wicker basket. A pitcher of freshly cut flowers brought attention to a farm table and surrounding oak chairs in the expansive kitchen open to the living area.
The walls were a pale cream and covered in pictures—artwork, family photographs, and a few pieces of old framed papers. Warmth and care had been poured into the house, and he felt surprisingly comfortable, despite his large size among the smaller-scale things.
“Come. Sit down. We’re safe to talk here.” Ida walked to the love seat and sat, then patted the spot next to her with a smile.
Heather sat with her, leaving Jack to take a spot on the low-seated couch. He sank into down cushions and sighed, grateful to have his back to a solid wall and his butt in a surprisingly comfortable spot. “You must be Ida.”
“And you must be Jack. Nice to meet you.”
He frowned. Heather hadn’t yet introduced him. “Did Hans call you?”
She shook her head. “Jan mentioned you’d be coming.”
“Who is this Jan? Because I’ve never met him.”
Heather answered, “Something you have to realize, Jack. This town… It’s unlike anyplace I’ve ever been. Here, being psychic is the norm. I’ve been here for two weeks, and I can’t seem to leave.”
“How’s that?” He sat up straighter, as much as he was able, and stared from Heather to Ida. “Maybe you can explain,” he said to the old woman.
“Maybe I can.” Ida laughed and pulled the dark purple cardigan she was wearing tighter around her. “Would you like some tea?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Heather said at the same time and arched a brow at him before turning back to Ida. “Shall I make some?”
Ida nodded, and Heather left for the kitchen. Jack kept half his attention on her while the rest of him sized up his host.
“You’re one of us.” Ida nodded and narrowed her gaze, studying him. “Very powerful. You vibrate with it. Rage, intensity, lust.”
She raised a brow, and he had to work to cool the heat in his cheeks.
“Drei-Gewalten was built on such emotions. We are a very old town, one that only the gifted can find. Our council works to keep the rest out.”
“Oh?”
“Why are you here, Jack Keiser?”
He didn’t show any reaction to her knowing his true name. “To find your niece, Heather.”
She nodded. “Her brother sent you. Owen.” She pursed her lips. “He was told to stay out of this mess. The boy doesn’t listen for shit.”
He paused, taken aback by her language, then had to grin. “So you’ve met him.”
“No, but Heather has spoken of him so that I feel I know him.” She sighed. “But this is for Heather to make right. It is not for Owen to interfere.”
“But you are not here for Owen, I think. You are here for Heather.”
One and the same. He shrugged. “Why the story about her being your relative?” He wanted to hear her confirm what Heather had told him.
“Because this town lives with antiquated conventions. Here, we are the law. Or rather, the Baer family is the law. For too long, they’ve run our town. Heather needed to come, to do what she was tasked. But the Stallbridges haven’t been welcome in over a hundred years, not since Johann discovered the Source.”
Heather had mentioned that earlier. “The Source?” Jack asked.
“Of power.”
Heather returned to the living room. “You’ve felt it. The vibrations under your feet? It’s real. There are places like this all over the world, where the pulse of power sends waves through the earth. In some places, the electromagnetic fields are stronger. In others, it’s just a feeling, a place where senses are heightened and life is much more defined.” She gazed at him with eyes that saw too much. “It’s a vortex. Bend, Oregon is one such place. That’s why Owen settled there.”
“But not you?” Jack asked her, his gaze intense.
“Eventually I will. I’ve had other things to keep me busy over the years.”
She studied him, and he wondered what she saw when she looked at him.
“Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’re really here. Ida called you Jack Keiser. That name sounds familiar.”
“My name is Jack Keiser. Harmon is an alias.”
“One of many you’ve used,” Ida added.
He scowled at her. “You a mind reader?”
“I know things. Not all, just some.”
“Great. More mystery to add to this secretive town.” Jack kept his inner shields tight and concentrated on Heather. “I’m here because your brother and I work together. We co-own the PowerUp! Gym in town. In Bend.”
“I’ve been there. I remember your manager, Kitty.”
Funny, Kitty never mentioned meeting Heather. “I run a team of people who do more than work at the gym. We work private investigations. Our biggest job to date is tracking down the objects stolen from your warehouse.”