Bewitched

by Lori Foster

  Dalton fell back against his pillows, and Harry again noticed how pale, how drawn he looked. He frowned in concern. “Dalton—”

  “No, never mind,” Dalton sighed in a pathetically weak voice. “I shouldn’t have been such a bother. You’re already working on the extortion case for me, and heaven knows that’s more than I should have asked of you. Though those young punks are idiots, it could still be dangerous.”

  Harry could attest to that.

  “And now this, dragging you into the middle of my personal affairs.” He sighed again, closed his eyes, and looked forlorn and dejected. Even knowing it to be a ruse, Harry couldn’t stand it.

  He came to his feet and propped his hands on his hips. “You don’t play the martyr worth a damn, Dalton, so spare me the theatrics.”

  Dalton peeked one eye open. “I know that tone. It means you’re ready to relent. Right?”

  “Yes,” Harry said, then groaned. “I suppose I have no choice, given you’re lying there in a sickbed and you’re not above using it to make me toe the line.”

  Dalton beamed at him. “You’re a real hero, Harry. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I am not a damn hero!” He felt mired in conflicting emotions. Regret, because Charlie was now off-limits and he was honor-bound to keep his hands off her delectable little body and his thoughts away from lascivious ventures.

  Anticipation, because despite being off-limits, he’d be seeing her again and her spunk and wit never ceased to amaze and amuse him.

  He also felt anxiety, because he had no idea how he’d placate her infatuation with him while still keeping her a discreet arm’s length away. She seemed determined to seduce him, given that last scorching kiss, and he’d have to find a way to feign disinterest without hurting her.

  It was enough to boggle the mind, and Harry’s mind, at present, was already overtaxed and sluggish. “I’m a stooge maybe, but never a hero.”

  “Yeah, well, right now, you look like an exhausted stooge. Why don’t you go on home and get some sleep? My God, it’s nearly dawn. And with all this excitement, I’m suddenly pretty tired myself.”

  Alarmed, Harry started forward, only to have Dalton wave him away. “It’s not my heart, son, only my age and the excitement. Honest. We’ll talk later and go over what you should tell Charlotte. We need a plan of action.”

  “You think I might have forgotten all your sterling qualities? You think I might not be able to make you sound a veritable icon among men?” Harry tsked. “You should know better, Dalton. I’ll sing your praises until she cries mercy.”

  Somber, Dalton took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished you were my own son.”

  Harry felt a lump in his throat that could strangle an elephant. “In all the ways that matter most, you’re the only father I’ve ever had. And a damn good one to boot.”

  Dalton wiped his eyes, then said gruffly, “Aw, get the hell out of here. You look worse than I do.”

  Harry laughed. “That’s saying a lot.” On impulse, he leaned down and gave Dalton a hug, then straightened and headed for the door. “I’ll be back, but in the meantime, I’m giving my home number, cell phone number and pager number to the nurses in case you need me for anything.”

  “You sure you don’t want to leave your social security number, too?”

  “If I thought it necessary, I would.” He heard Dalton grumble and had to smile. “I mean it, Dalton. If you need me for anything, even conversation, simply call, all right?”

  “Don’t rush back just to hold my hand. Take care of business instead. I’d rather know you were seeing to my daughters and protecting my friends. Besides, there’s a few cute nurses here willing to keep me company. If you hang around, they’ll all be looking at you, instead.”

  Shaking his head, Harry said, “I’ll let you know what your daughter thinks of my investigative skills. Even she should be duly impressed, given I’ll have found out several remarkable things about you within half a day.”

  “Make me look real good, son.”

  “No problem. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  Or so he wanted Dalton to think. He couldn’t abide the idea of causing him undue worry, but he knew from experience that nothing with Charlie would be easy, and she’d be the hardest person in the world to impress, especially where Dalton was concerned.

  A reluctant grin curved Harry’s mouth as he made his way to the nurses’ station. He would have to spend more time with her. The decision was out of his hands, his motives altruistic and pure…

  It would be a struggle to keep his hands to himself, to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow. Charlie was just so damn… cute, in a perky, twisted, Annie Hall kind of way. He couldn’t remember ever being so intrigued by a woman.

  He wondered what she’d look like in regular clothes, how she’d dress, how she’d wear her hair.

  He also wondered how anyone in his right mind could possibly call such a unique, independent, headstrong woman Charlotte. Absurd. Charlie suited her far better. He only hoped Dalton would realize that, to avoid any disappointments.

  Charlie knocked, but when that didn’t bring forth a response, she leaned against the buzzer. Judging by the commotion on the other side of the door, at least the dogs were at home. She really wanted Harry to be in, too, so she could share her news. She needed…

  Oh, who was she fooling? She simply wanted to see him again, and when such a good excuse presented itself, she couldn’t resist. It was almost noon, so Harry surely was up, despite the late night they’d had. She was amazed she’d managed to wait this long.

  Keeping one shoulder on the buzzer, she smoothed her hair, then caught herself and dropped her hand. She was not a prissy person and damn if she’d start acting like one now just because she had the temporary hots for a very urbane gentleman with outlandish diction.

  Charlie grinned. Actually, she’d sorta grown used to the way he talked. It was smooth on the ears, certainly not something she was used to when the men at her bar tended to slur and used very crude language.

  When the door suddenly opened, she was caught with that outrageous grin still on her face. And Harry, all six feet five inches of him, looked disgruntled. He was—she gulped—wet, and wearing only a towel. The dogs were now quiet, peeking around Harry’s bare knees.

  His eyes narrowed when he saw her. “Perhaps you’re not aware of it, but you’re leaning on my doorbell.”

  Charlie, never to be confused with an idiot, widened her eyes and quickly stepped away from the bell. “Oops! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  Harry stilled, then slowly looked her over. His gaze lingered on her hair, her breasts, then skimmed down to her feet. She stared back. He stood there blocking his doorway, wearing only a towel, clean shaven. Droplets of water clung to the hair on his chest and trickled through the silky line of hair leading from his navel downward. He smelled of delicious male scents that made heat bloom and curl in her belly. She delicately sniffed the air, breathing him in, then sighed.

  His voice was gruff when he said, “You certainly look different out of your male apparel.”

  Charlie glanced down at her slim-fitting, well-worn jeans, her lace-up brown work boots. Donning a soft, cream-colored sweater was as far as she’d been willing to go to try to impress him with her less than apparent femininity. Anything more, anything as ridiculous as a skirt, would have been too obvious. She wasn’t altogether certain she even owned a skirt.

  Besides, any efforts to make her look more ladylike would have come across as asinine. She just didn’t have the heart for it.

  Harry reached out and touched her hair, tugging one curl through his fingers. His cheekbones flushed and he whispered, “Like silk. Warm silk.”

  Charlie wanted to melt. Oh, the man had a way of saying things that hit the pit of her stomach and radiated out to make her shaky and hot and… She sighed again. If he’d wanted her to, she’d have stood there all day letting him
play with her hair. But then his fingers touched on her bullet earring and he suddenly stiffened and stepped back.

  “Good heavens. Come in before someone sees you.”

  “Me? You’re the one who’s nearly naked.”

  She walked in, thoroughly greeted by the dogs who went all out by jumping and shaking and appearing happy to see a new face. Harry, however, was already stalking away. He waved vaguely toward the kitchen. “Go make yourself at home and I’ll be right back.”

  Charlie admired the view of his retreating backside. His shoulders were wide, hard, his spine straight, muscles evident all over the place.

  She’d have admired the view even more if he’d dropped the towel. “Don’t dress on my account!”

  “Brat.” He galloped up the steps without looking back. She heard a door slam.

  Well, well. He certainly was grouchy this afternoon. Charlie slipped off her lightweight jean jacket, laid it over a chair, and went to investigate the kitchen. The dogs followed on her heels and their nails tapped-tapped on the kitchen tile floor as they danced around her.

  She wasn’t surprised to find coffee just finished brewing. Remembering how Harry had taken his, she fixed his cup as well as her own. Then she spotted Ted, glaring at her from his seat at the table. She shrugged. “Don’t mind me. I’ll sit way over here. You won’t even know I’m around.”

  Sooner howled, as if he found that hilariously funny.

  Harry returned only seconds later wearing suit pants and buttoning up a blue dress shirt with one hand. In the other hand he carried shoes, socks and a tie.

  Charlie raised a brow. “What? You didn’t trust me alone in your kitchen? Or did you think Ted and I would be brawling? You had to rush back half-dressed?”

  He slanted a frown her way and picked up the coffee cup for a healthy sip. “At least allow the caffeine to penetrate my brain cells before you start sniping. I’ve had very little sleep, certainly not enough to counteract yesterday’s adventures.” As if by rote he opened the back door and the dogs darted out.

  She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, either. She’d spent most of the evening staring at the ceiling and thinking of that last kiss. She doubted he’d done the same. Maybe he just slept late when he needed to. She, however, didn’t have that luxury, not with the bar to run. “Uh, Harry, are you on your way out?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes, so perhaps it would be auspicious for you to explain this unexpected visit?”

  “Auspicious, huh? All right, don’t get red in the face. I found out some info on our villains.”

  He froze with the cup to his lips, then slowly lowered it. “I assume you’re referring to Floyd and Ralph?”

  “Aren’t they the only villains we know jointly?”

  He frowned, took a large drink as if to fortify himself, and she continued.

  “They’re going to drop in on Pops again today, so I figured I’d follow them when they leave, just to see where they go, and I wondered if you’d want to tag along to keep me company—”

  Coffee spewed across the table, making Charlie jump back a good foot. She growled. “Damn it Harry, you do seem to have a problem with coffee, don’t you?”

  He thunked the coffee cup down and took two menacing steps toward her. Ted raced past her with a vicious hissing complaint, but since Harry seemed the bigger threat, she didn’t dare look away from him. She widened her stance, braced herself and waited.

  Through gritted teeth, he said, “You’re not to go anywhere near them, Charlie, is that understood?”

  She fetched forth her most direct, intimidating look, and must have succeeded, given his stormy expression. “Uh, Harry. You’re not trying to give me orders, are you?”

  He stepped closer still, until her neck felt like it might cramp from the drastic angle it took to meet his gaze and his breath hit her face with the force of a puffing bull. “Yes,” he said succinctly. “I’m giving you an explicit directive to stay the hell away from anything and anyone that has to do with Ralph and Floyd.”

  He was so close, she couldn’t resist, and leaned just a scant inch closer to smell him, her nose almost touching his chest.

  Harry leaped back as if burned. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “You smell so good, Harry. If I could bottle you, I’d make a fortune.”

  He flushed, blustered for a moment, then started in frowning again. “You’re trying to distract me, damn it.”

  Actually, distracting him had never entered her mind. Charlie examined her nails. “They kidnapped me, Harry. They threatened me. You can’t expect me to just let them get away with that.”

  “I told you I’d take care of them.”

  “Terrific. I’ll go along to see that you take care of them right. I haven’t forgotten you’re the one who was too chicken to push Floyd off the truck.”

  He looked nearly apoplectic. “You bloodthirsty little…it would have killed him! I do believe I can handle things without resorting to murder.”

  Charlie sniffed. “He’s too mean to die. He’d probably have just gotten his hard head bruised a little.”

  “Charlie.” He clasped her shoulders and shook her lightly. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

  She wanted to play with him, but he didn’t look overly receptive to the idea at the moment. No, he looked like it took all his restraint not to choke her.

  “Forget it, Harry. If you’re too much a sissy to go with me, I can go alone. No problem.”

  Choking became a distinct possibility.

  After several moments where she held her breath, waiting to see which way the chips would fall, Harry finally released her and stepped away. He picked up his coffee.

  She eyed it warily. “Careful. I don’t want you to drown yourself.”

  He drank the rest of the cup in one long swallow, glaring at her over the rim all the while. After he finished the cup, his expression grew crafty. “I have a deal for you, Charlie.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Remove yourself from my business with Floyd and Ralph, and I’ll tell you what I’ve discovered concerning your father.”

  Her breath left her in a whoosh and she gripped the edge of the table. “You’ve found out something already?”

  He looked down his nose at her. “Quite a few somethings, actually, which is why I didn’t get to bed until the early hours of the morning, and why I was just rising when you arrived. Now, do we have a deal or not?”

  Charlie weighed her options, decided lying would be the most expedient way to go, and said, “Whatever you say, Harry. Now tell me everything you know.”

  Bewitched

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ************************************************************************************************

  Harry stared at her hard, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Still, he knew without a shadow of a doubt she had no intention of backing away from Ralph and Floyd, despite her rapid agreement.

  With a sound of disgust, he dropped into a chair and bent to pull on his socks. “You’re lying through your teeth and you aren’t even doing it well.”

  “That’s absurd!” She pulled out a chair and sprawled into it. “I’m an excellent liar!”

  He looked nonplussed for a moment, then laughed. “You’re something else, you know that, Charlie?”

  He sounded… affectionately exasperated. But then what did she know? She’d never heard honest affection from a man before. And she’d certainly never known a man like Harry. “I like watching you dress, Harry.” He glanced up at her, startled, and she smiled. “I think I’d probably like watching you undress, more.”

  A shoe dropped from his hand, thumping onto the floor. Harry swallowed, made a strangled sound. Charlie eyed him. “Thank God you’re not drinking coffee, huh?”

  He stared, then jerked his gaze away from her. Furious, he yanked on the rest of his clothes, including a silk tie, then began pacing the kitchen. Glancing at her, he accused, “You’ve
traumatized my cat.”

  “I’m not the one who can’t swallow coffee.”

  His eyes narrowed. He looked downright harassed, and he kept checking his watch. The dogs scratched to come in, and again he went through the chore of cleaning their feet. Afterward, the dogs cuddled up to him and got thoroughly petted. He even whispered to them, though she couldn’t hear what he said.

  Charlie loved watching him with the animals. He was so big, so strong, but so incredibly gentle, too. She remembered the way he’d touched her, how he’d kissed her, and she was instantly jealous of the attention he lavished on his pets.

  When Harry stood, Sooner and Grace came over to her for a few pats. Harry watched, his brows down, and he warned, “Don’t try to ingratiate yourself with my dogs. I already explained to them how conniving you can be.”

  She gave each dog an extra hug. “Yeah, well, since they know you, they’ve probably realized you’re just being unreasonable.” The dogs didn’t agree or disagree, they just went off to sleep.

  Charlie crossed her legs and waited. He had news to tell her, but she did her best to look indifferent despite the churning in her belly and her anxiety. She couldn’t give him the upper hand.

  “Okay, are you interested in knowing what I’ve discovered or not?”

  “What a dumb question! Of course I’m interested.” Then in the coolest tone she could manage, she asked, “Do you think he has any money? Will he be able to pay what he owes?”

  Charlie watched, fascinated, as Harry’s lean jaw hardened, as his muscles bunched and flexed. For a second there she thought his eyes turned red, but then he stepped around her and headed out of the kitchen.

  “We’ll have to discuss this in transit. I’m late already.”

  Charlie hustled after him. “Late for what?”

  The look he gave her wasn’t promising. “I was intending to tail Floyd and Ralph.”