by Bobbie Cole
“Your disposition, querida, not your form.” He flashed her a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling. “You look adorable. If Seth hadn’t already grabbed you, I’d whisk you away on my motorcycle and show you what you’re missing by not being with a hot-blooded Latino.”
Charlie clutched her stomach. She didn’t dare risk laughing for fear she’d get sick. The dress wasn’t tight, but she wasn’t used to wearing anything with a cinched waist that showed off her cleavage and curves. She felt like a doll, waiting for someone to undress her and put her back into casual slacks and pullover shirts.
Julio took her by the hand and led her to the cheval mirror in his parents’ dressing room. He’d talked Charlie into saying her vows at their country estate south of Houston. The setting was perfect. Spring flowers and trees blooming, a riot of color and greenery outside where the ceremony was to take place. A lovely master suite where Charlie could prepare for her wedding.
“Look,” he said, helping right her and pointing at the mirror. “Don’t you know how beautiful you are, and that Seth wouldn’t care if you were wearing jeans as long as you showed up in front of that preacher?”
Charlie had to admit he was right. She’d never looked better. Weeks of work without hassle, days of being pampered at the best salon and day spa in Houston, courtesy of Julio. Stress-free and happier than she’d ever been.
She glanced at their reflection. He was grinning widely. His bandages, like Seth’s, were gone, leaving scars from where he’d been shot. They were all lucky to be alive.
“Feel better?” he asked when she sighed deeply.
“Yeah.” Charlie nodded. She looked more closely at their reflection. He’d had so many stitches and an operation to remove shrapnel from his head, so he’d kept it completely shaved. “How’s the noggin’?”
He turned her to face him. “Look at me. I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. I hear your father outside talking to my dad. Did you catch what they said?”
She shook her head.
Julio held up a finger. “Hear it? The organist has started her music. It’s time for us to go downstairs.” He offered her his good arm.
A soft rap on the door…her father’s voice asking if she was ready. Charlie took a deep gulp of air and blew it out slowly. “Let’s do this.”
Seth had barely noticed when Julio took his place in the garden where normally a bridesmaid or maid of honor would have stood. At first, when Charlie had asked Julio to be her closest witness to their marriage, it had seemed strange, but then nothing about Charlie could be considered the norm, and it was fitting that her partner stand beside her today, even though she had friends who could have done so.
All he could see was his beautiful bride, walking on her father’s arm toward him, toward their future. He swelled with pride. His best friend, his soul mate, the love of his life. With Bill Stone as his best man, a small group of friends and family as witnesses, and him as ready as ever, the day was perfect. Life, for one brief moment in time, was perfect.
The words they both uttered, the clergy’s needless encouragement for them to love and honor one another, the music…everything fell away, and Seth felt as if he was in a wonderful trance, leaving a troubled past behind and walking into a future bright with promise and passion.
Then he blinked. It was real, all right, but his bride’s words… Seth couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He played them over in his mind like a recording.
“I, Charlene Andrea Vargas, take you…Seth Benjamin Taggart, and whatever aliases you may have…as my lawfully wedded husband.”
Members of those seated in the garden sniggered. Her father choked, coughed, recovered. Her mother gasped and closed her eyes with embarrassment, and Julio chuckled. Seth bit back a grin, but it was of no use. Charlie blinked through tears of laughter and smiled up at him, heart in her eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips.
And when it came time for him to kiss his bride, Seth swooped her into his arms and planted the biggest, most heartfelt kiss he’d ever given on her lips, crushing her to him, wedding gown and all, his soul bursting with pleasure.
The music started, and typical of Charlie, she’d surprised him by asking for something other than “The Bridal March.” Seth laughed as he heard the fast-paced strains of an old cop show theme song being played on the organ. He could even imagine the drums, the trumpets and gigantic waves crashing all around them.
“Are you announcing to everyone where we’re going on our honeymoon?” he teased, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Dad and Julio will be the only ones who get it.” Charlie grabbed his arm and led him through a shower of rose petals and rice that pelted them on their quick-paced exit from the ceremony to the reception dinner.
Seth clasped her hand in his, grinning as Julio and Sam started laughing and the rest of the crowd cheered. Half of those who’d witnessed their wedding were cops, and Charlie was wrong—most of them seemed to catch the significance of the song.
“Book ’em, Danno!” called Sam as the theme from Hawaii Five-O filled the air.
Epilogue
Months later, Seth watched the news on television as Charlie divested herself of gun, badge and purse. He motioned for her to join him.
“Come here. It’s Dorinda and her husband. They’re on the news.”
“Your sister?” she teased.
“Aldridge’s sister, thank you.” He popped her on the butt as she perched on the edge of his chair and draped an arm about his shoulders.
The Associated Press’s coverage was on the clandestine transporting of terrorists from Guatemala to the States, and Dorinda and Doug Wilkerson were front and center of the investigation.
“Oh, my.” Charlie leaned forward. “Did they just say murder?” She chortled. “So that’s what happened to the real Aldridge. They killed him and fed his body to the sharks, only gold fillings in dental records don’t lie.”
“Looks like they’re bartering,” Seth told her. “Copping to the murder in hopes of being sent back to the States—they don’t want to spend their time in a Mexican prison. That doesn’t work unless he was killed here, though, does it?”
She shook her head. “I suppose it beats having a Mexican execution or whatever the hell they do now for transporting terrorists.” Charlie bent to kiss her husband of three months. “I still can’t believe some of those arrested escaped from jail.”
“Don’t be so sure of their abilities,” Seth told her. “I hear there’s a new boy on the case, one who knows them and has a grudge.”
“Who?” she asked.
Seth shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Right now I want to molest my wife. I haven’t seen her for over eight hours.”
Charlie loved it when Seth referred to her as his wife. She’d never be a domestic diva, but then her husband treated her more like a mistress than he did a housekeeper. Sure, they both did housework and attended to life’s mundane aspects, but they talked. More than that, they communicated, and he spoke her language.
Seth had regained enough of his memory and physical strength to stay with his department, but he was no longer a field agent, which suited them both. Somebody needed to have the ability to work from home occasionally in case Sam was unavailable as babysitter to the child who was on the way.
“Aargh! You know I hate secrets.” She punched him on the arm.
“But you love surprises.” Seth yanked her into his arms, wrestling her and pinning her beneath him.
Before Charlie could question him further about Rogers and other of his men who had escaped, their front doorbell rang.
“Julio!” she cried, throwing open the door to embrace him. She couldn’t help but laugh when she saw the Mohawk sported by her former partner.
He grinned broadly and hugged her back. “I called earlier, and Seth said it was okay for me to come by before I left.”
“You’re leaving? Where? You’re not well enough.”
“I’m okay to travel.”
“Nah.” Charlie
shook her head. “I know you too well. Travel, how? On that motorcycle of yours?”
He shrugged. “That’s part of it.”
Charlie frowned. “But your head and your shoulder!”
He patted his shoulder. “Another two weeks, and doctor says I’ll be good as new. I’ll just have a hole and a scar.” He clucked his tongue against his teeth and winked. “I hear war wounds drive women wild.” He rubbed the scar on his forehead and leaned forward. “Wanna touch the hair?”
“Yeah.” Charlie couldn’t help but giggle. “But why a Mohawk? Why not just stay bald or let the whole thing grow out?”
“It’s for my new assignment—I’m going undercover. Didn’t Seth tell you? He’s the one who recommend me for the job, he and Stone.”
Charlie drew a deep breath and looked accusingly at her husband. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah,” Julio enthused. “I’m on special loan to the Feds to help bring in Damien Rogers, that rat bastard. Since I’m familiar with the case, know what he looks like—I should. Was staring right at him when he had those goons in the rafters shoot at me. I figure I owe him something, you know? He shouldn’ta messed with Jorge and Maria’s little boy.”
Julio stabbed a thumb to his chest, indicating himself. Then he snapped his fingers. “Which reminds me, will you two look in on them, on my folks, while I’m gone? Just check, make sure they’re okay?”
Charlie assured him that they would. “How long will you be gone?”
Julio shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a month or two? A year? As long as it takes. I don’t want to kill him—okay, maybe I do a little. But I want him to suffer. I want to bring him to justice and parade him down to wherever they send him myself.”
“Hurt him once for me,” she said.
“Will do, mamacita.” He eyed her stomach. “Maybe I’ll get back in time for Little Charlie’s christening, no?”
Seth came up to stand behind Charlie. “You’d better. Mohawk and all.”
Julio shook hands with Seth and hugged Charlie once more. “Well, I have some form of orientation tomorrow. Gotta hit the sack early tonight, so I’ll see you later.”
After the door shut behind Julio, Seth turned Charlie to face him and nuzzled her neck, nibbling the tender skin just behind her ear. “Honey, do you remember handcuffing me in Mexico?”
“Mm. You said you weren’t mad about that anymore.”
“I lied.” Seth kissed her while walking her to the credenza where she’d unloaded her belongings after work. He found her handcuffs and told her to hold out her wrists. Snapping the first cuff to her and the second to himself, he started toward their bedroom, all the while telling her all the deliciously naughty things he was going to do to her once they were there.
Their front door opened suddenly, and there was a flurry of body parts as Charlie tried hiding her cuffed wrist behind her back and Seth attempted the same thing, only to yank her into him.
Julio didn’t appear to notice at first, and he was still in a chatty mood. “I meant to tell you that my parents are hosting a party on the twelfth at—” He paused, eyeing them suspiciously as the couple tried to hide what they’d been doing.
Julio laughed. “Whazzup, partner? Is this man holding you against your will?”
Charlie flushed with embarrassment. “I—uh—that is, he was showing me a new maneuver.”
Julio snorted. “Whatever.” He waggled a finger at them. “I knew the two of you were kinkier than spiral pasta.”
“Goodbye, Julio!” Seth and Charlie chorused.
Their friend held up his hands in surrender. “Just sayin’…I’ll be glad to help if you get into a bind.” He cackled at his own joke. Then he snapped his fingers. “I’ll email you the details about the party. Looks like you two were busy when I came in, and I know when I’m not wanted.” He winked and shut the door behind him as he left.
Seth’s eyes danced with laughter. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so shy. The unflappable Charlene Vargas, blushing like a bride.”
“The name is Charlene Taggart,” she informed him, tiptoeing to kiss his chin. “And I am a bride.”
“Then let’s start treating you like one, wife.” Seth kissed her soundly.
Warmth flooded Charlie as her body melded with Seth’s. His arms were sure and strong, his hands both possessive and caressing.
Wife. She liked the sound of that.
About the Author
Bobbie Cole is the multi-published author of dozens of short stories, confessions and magazine articles as well as a few dozen novels and novellas under various pseudonyms (both male and female). When she’s not writing or spending time with loved ones, she’s either curled up with a book, her dogs, good music and some form of beverage, or she’s traveling. Upcoming adventures on her agenda include free-falling, zip lining and stomping grapes at a winery—she wants to see her purple footprints on a T-shirt.
Where no great story goes untold.
The variety you want to read, the stories authors have always wanted to write.
With new releases every week, your next great read is just a download away!
Keep in touch with Carina Press:
Read our blog: www.CarinaPress.com/blog
Follow us on Twitter: www.twitter.com/CarinaPress
Become a fan on Facebook: www.facebook.com/CarinaPress
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9134-2
Copyright © 2011 by Bobbie Cole
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.CarinaPress.com