Charmed & Dangerous

by Havens, Candace

  “Tomorrow? Excellent. I’ll get everything ready for you. Sounds like you need some serious R&R, and I’m just the guy to help you out.

  “Let’s see. We’ll need an exercise plan. That will involve sex. Um, a nutritious diet of chocolate syrup and whipped cream; that will also include sex. I am worried you won’t be getting much sleep though, at least in the first several hours.”

  I giggled. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “I’m going to take very good care of you.”

  “I can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I’m so damn lucky. So, very, very lucky.

  Thursday, 2:30 A.M.

  Slept for a couple more hours and then went foraging for food. I hadn’t eaten much at dinner and my stomach grumbled so loud I couldn’t ignore it.

  After a few wrong turns and about ten minutes of searching, I found my way to the kitchen. The large room was completely surrounded in a gray stone that made it about twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the castle. A blessing I’m sure when the six ovens I saw in there are turned on.

  I opened the large fridge door and pulled out some of the beef tenderloin and other things left over from dinner. I put everything on the large wooden table in the corner. A beautiful view from the bay windows, even this time of night with the stars highlighting the tree shadows in the snow.

  Before he came around the corner, I sensed Cole. I saw him reflected in the glass before me, and turned around. Mouth full, I gave him a small salute.

  “That looks good.” He walked to where the desserts sat on top of the counter. I’d done my best to avoid that section of the kitchen but there was an array of delectable sweets, from handmade chocolates to a raspberry torte.

  He grabbed two chocolate-filled croissants and a glass of milk, and joined me at the table.

  “So, are you angry with me?” He pulled apart the pastry and bit in. “Garnout said you might not appreciate my help, but insisted I come anyway.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but even I have trouble being rude for no reason. “Don’t mind the help, but I didn’t care for you sharing private information with my clients.”

  “In all honesty, I didn’t realize you hadn’t told them about the hits on you. I tried to cover, but it didn’t work. The prime minister and his friend the sheik are much too observant.”

  Something about this guy sent my warlock radar into high gear. Adorableness aside, he seemed too casual about everything. He hadn’t batted an eyelash when the chandelier crashed, and nothing fazed him.

  “So why are you really here?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  The man was nothing short of infuriating. “You didn’t come here just because Garnout asked you to. You’re a major player in the international spook squad. Traveling two thousand miles out of your way because some wizard asked you to isn’t going to work for me.”

  His hooded blue eyes stared a full minute as if he were considering how much he wanted to share.

  “Trouble follows you intimately, Bronwyn, and I thought, as did my superiors, that perhaps I could observe you for a few days, and track the warlock behind all of this.”

  “I’m curious how you know so much about the situation. Except for the PM, Azir, and their security teams, the only other person who knows anything is Garnout. As angry as I am with him right now for butting in, he isn’t usually so open with my personal business.”

  “This has nothing to do with anything personal.” His voice took on an edge. “We’re on the same side here. The only thing your friend Garnout shared was that you were up against a powerful warlock. The rest of the information we picked up from accounts in Oslo, Dubai, New York, and, of course, here in Brussels.

  “You’ve left a trail of dead warlocks behind you, and it’s our job to take notice.”

  “There’s not a one of them who didn’t deserve everything they received.” If Cole and the spook squad were on my side they had a strange way of showing it.

  “Trust me, you’re a hero as far as most of us are concerned. In the last three years you’ve rid the world of more evil than all the witches in the world combined.”

  “I find that hard to believe. And you don’t seem to share the hero worship. Not that I’m complaining.” The room became even colder and I wondered which ghost might be listening in this time.

  “I’ve a great respect for what you do. I may not always agree with the way you go about it”—he held up a hand before I could chime in—“but you get the job done.

  “You asked why I came to Brussels. I wanted to see you work and to talk with Lesha’s brother. There’s a good chance he knows the warlock behind all of this. But his mind is gone. It may never heal enough for him to think in complete sentences.”

  “His sister is the one who did that to him. I had nothing to do with it.” I threw up my hands in my best “I’m not guilty” motion.

  Cole laughed, a nice sound, his head shaking back and forth. “For such a tough witch, you sure are defensive.”

  “No offense, big guy, but I don’t like the idea that I’m being watched. I have a job to do, and I do it. I don’t want to have to worry about the squad picking me up because I’ve killed a few too many bad guys.”

  “I don’t know what else to say to convince you, but it isn’t you we’re after. You felt that magic—whoever is after you and your charges means to kill. We want to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  He looked around the kitchen and shivered. “Does it feel colder in here to you?”

  Several ghosts had come into the room. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees in the already cold room.

  “Um, no. I’ve got to get some sleep. Early flight and all. If I were you, I’d take a look at the two warlocks in the back of the room today. They were ready for something to happen, so they must have had some idea of what was to take place.”

  “We’re on it. Good night.” He held out his hand to shake. “I’m happy I finally had a chance to meet you.”

  I shook it, but didn’t bother to lie and say I felt the same way.

  The coldness followed me to my room. My great protector has returned. I have failed Darby, my lovely Irish ancestor. We will be leaving in less than four hours, and I haven’t been able to reunite her with her lover.

  I picked up the jacket on the back of the chair and let my fingers trail along the soft collar.

  So much love between this man and woman. Maybe someday I can come back and help them. But for now I can’t wait to get home.

  I’m determined to figure out what is going on with Sam. Our relationship has taken a turn, and I feel like I’m missing out on something fantastic every moment I’m away from him.

  And Azir. That’s one thing Cole may be right about. He and the prime minister may be safer without me around.

  Twenty-seven

  Friday, 10 A.M.

  Sweet, Texas

  Relaxed witches: 1

  F eels so good to be home. Springtime in West Texas is a heck of a lot warmer than Brussels this time of year.

  The weirdest thing happened when I walked in the door. Casper actually greeted me and acted like she was happy I’d made it back. She never does that.

  She hasn’t left my side since I got here. Cats are so hard to understand.

  Sam had been called in on an emergency at the hospital but he rang this morning to check on me.

  “You doing okay?”

  “A little tired, but good.”

  “What time did you get in?”

  “About two this morning.”

  “I’m so sorry I missed you, baby; one of my patients took a turn for the worse and I had to be here.”

  I was disappointed but I understood.

  “Is there any chance you can meet for lunch at Lulu’s? Ever since you emailed the story about the fried chicken, I’ve been dying for some.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We decided to meet at noon, which gives me just enough time to feed Casper, shower, a
nd find something stunning to wear. I want to knock his socks off, which is strange since I already know he loves me. I just want to be certain he makes good on that promise for some great R&R.

  Midnight

  I don’t know why I feel so uneasy. Today was as close to perfect as a day can get. Sam and I had a wonderful lunch. Afterward we went to see Mr. Gunther, who wrote like gangbusters the whole time we were there.

  I’d picked up another journal for him in town and gave it to him. He smiled, those blue eyes penetrating but friendly. “Thank you.”

  “You know you’re welcome. Have you been feeling better since the last potion?”

  He frowned then and put down his pen. “Yes, but I don’t want to take any more.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Seems like we’re trying to cheat death and it doesn’t feel right. Besides, once I fill this new journal you gave me, I’m done with my mission.”

  “Your mission?”

  “Yes, to remind the world that an ordinary life can be quite wonderful. That’s the legacy I want to leave behind. I want you and my grandchildren to know what an incredible ride it’s been.”

  His grandchildren lived all over the world. If something happened to him, they might not have time to get here. The idea of him dying choked me up so I did what I do best—I changed the subject.

  “That wasn’t you who pinched old lady Albright on the butt the other night? I heard she screamed for two hours that she’d been manhandled. Margie said it took three sedatives to settle her down.”

  He chortled. “Old bag. No one pinched her. She’s nothing but skin and bone. There isn’t anything to grab onto even if you tried. She’s one of those high drama types. Needs lots of attention.”

  Sometimes I thought Mrs. Albright and myself had a lot in common. Drama seemed to be a big part of my life the last few months.

  The night ended with me finally convincing Sam that he needed to stay over. I was exhausted and he was genuinely worried about my health.

  “Bron, we’ve got time, you need to rest.”

  He tried to give me a chaste kiss and send me to bed, but I wanted nothing of it. “Doctor”—I pulled him into the living room with me—“I need some serious healing.”

  I pointed to my lips. “These hurt really, really bad.”

  “I thought we had an understanding.”

  “We do, we do. But you’re a doctor, and I need help. I also have pain right here.” I slipped off my T-shirt. The sight of my bra made him take a sharp breath. I pulled down my denim skirt to complete my lacy red ensemble.

  I smiled. He grabbed the elastic band on the front of my thong and pulled me to him. My breasts tight against his chest, pelvis pressed into his hardness.

  “You don’t play fair,” he said right before he ravaged my mouth with his tongue. His thumb rubbed across my hardened nipple.

  I let him take what he wanted, and then pulled back from his mouth. “I never said I’d play fair.” Taking his hand, I yanked him upstairs behind me.

  “I’m tired of waiting. We want each other and I need to feel you inside of me tonight.” I pulled his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt. “Do you understand that, Sam? Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to say I need someone?”

  I hate button-fly jeans. Zippers are so much faster.

  He didn’t say a word, but he slipped off his jeans and gently pushed me to the bed. The down comforter cushioned the fall as he bent down to slip off the thong, running his hands down my thighs. Not long after that he moved up my body, trailing kisses, and gently removed the bra. He looked down on me, his gaze traveling from my head to my toes. “Never have I seen such beauty.”

  “Sam.”

  “I love you.” He lay down beside me, his hand resting on my stomach. “Before I make love to you, you have to know how I feel.

  “It’s scary putting my heart on the line like this, and I don’t expect you to do the same. But I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Ever. It’s fast, and scary, and I don’t know what will happen.”

  He started to say something else, but stopped. His lips moved over the circles he’d been making with his hands on my stomach. He slid down my body. Hands pushing my legs apart, his tongue plunged into me. I thought I might die from pleasure. How could anything compare to how this man made me feel? Cherished. Loved. Adored. He gently nibbled and used his masterful tongue to send me into waves of passion. Over and over, until my body ached for him.

  “Oh, my,” I whispered. I couldn’t take much more. But he wouldn’t stop and the sweet torture continued as he used his fingers where his tongue had been and slid up my body. Kissing my neck, and suckling my breasts like a man starved.

  I couldn’t take any more. I pushed him back. He smiled.

  “Now.” No more begging, I demanded it. I straddled him and slid down his shaft, taking every inch of him. Moving his hands to my hips he met my frantic motion, and made me come again. I leaned forward, hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

  He rolled me onto my back and wrapped my legs around his waist. Faster he pumped me, harder and harder, until I could think of nothing but the joy of his touch.

  “Yes, yes!” I screamed, my voice hoarse with passion.

  As he poured into me he whispered into my ear, “Forever. I’ll love you forever.”

  I couldn’t say the words but I wrapped my arms around him and tried to show him how much I cared. What had started as an extreme hornfest needing to be quenched had turned into something so much more sensual and giving.

  In that moment I realized my heart had become very much attached to this man.

  He has an early call at work in a few hours, but I think I may have to wake him with a little surprise. Time to return the delicious favor he served me. I think it will involve some lovely whipped cream and my own creative version of a banana split, à la Sam.

  I still have a strange feeling, but I’ve decided it must be jet lag. Too much work and not enough play. Bronwyn’s about to change that.

  Wakey, wakey, Sammy baby.

  Twenty-eight

  Saturday, 8 A.M.

  New moon

  Sweet, Texas

  Paranoid witches: 1

  S omething bad has happened. I feel it. Woke me with a start and it’s crushingly horrible. I know it, I know it, I know it.

  Sent my mind out to my mom, dad, and annoying brother; everyone was fine. The sheik and PM checked out, and so did Simone. Kira and Caleb slept with their arms around one another.

  I can’t get into Sam’s head. That doesn’t mean anything, though, because he’s been blocking me since the night we invaded each other’s dreams.

  He left me with a sweet kiss early this morning and a promise to stop by later this afternoon. After last night, I have no doubts how I feel about him. I just wish I could actually say the words.

  Man, I could throw up. It’s bad. I hate when this happens. It always means someone I care about is in trouble.

  Oh, crap. The phone. Here it comes.

  Sunday, 5:30 A.M.

  This day has great possibilities. Actually every day does, but this one is special because I woke up next to the man I love. Oh, it took me a while to realize it, but he’s the one.

  For months he told me we belonged together, but I refused to believe him. What he didn’t seem to realize is witches don’t have boyfriends. It never works out.

  The intimidation factor alone usually stands as the biggest turnoff. A lot of men can’t handle a woman with power. The whole reading-minds thing and the ability to turn them into toads sort of makes them insecure.

  Even my clients are afraid of me, but they want to use my talents just the same.

  Don’t get me wrong. I love being a witch. My world’s filled to the brim with exciting adventures and people.

  But this love thing is all new. My heart’s full of an emotion I’ve rarely experienced. I’ve cared for people in the past, but loving is something I hardly ever allowed myself to do.
<
br />   This man changed all of that. I must love him because there are no other possibilities. It’s much like being a witch. It is what I am and what I must be.

  Look at him, lying there so peaceful. That jet black hair waving around his face and those bulging biceps. Ooh, baby! He’s a human cupcake and I could just eat him up.

  Now if only I can get him to come back to life it will be a great day. Because lonely as I get sometimes—I don’t fuck dead guys.

  Stupid, I’m so fucking stupid.

  And devastated. There’s no other word. The world is a horrible, horrible place. Sam has died twice in the last twenty-four hours and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to help him. I love him so much and I can’t stand to see him lying there like a vegetable. He could die again at any moment, and this time it might be for good.

  The phone was Margie from the nursing home. They’d brought Sam into the emergency room next door and she thought I should know.

  “His truck flipped over in the drainage ditch. They didn’t see any other cars around, but he was pinned underneath,” Margie told me, her voice choked with tears. “You need to hurry, Bronwyn. He died once on the way here and they brought him back. It’s not good.”

  After twelve hours of surgery they mended his two broken legs, wrist, and hip. His beautiful face doesn’t have a scratch.

  He’s so perfect. It isn’t fair. When I woke him up yesterday morning we had such a beautiful time together.

  My precious man. Why didn’t I tell him I loved him? Now he may die, and never have what he deserved from me. What I selfishly held back.

  He just died again and there was nothing I could do to help. The doctors and nurses brought him back, but I’m useless and afraid.

  His parents are on their way back from some photo safari in Africa and want him moved to a hospital in Dallas. But the doctors here say it would be murder to do so.

  Kira and Caleb went to get me some coffee. Talking to them helps, but nothing gets rid of this terrible ache inside. Shortly after they arrived, he went into cardiac arrest again. They jump-started the flat line and brought him back.