Witches of Three: Charlene

by Temple Hogan

  “Yeah, I know,” Ralph said. “This is the day of women’s lib. I’m tired of hearing about it. We can’t talk to them like we used to, but if they want to make it in a man’s world, they ought to learn how to take it like it is.”

  “Actually, this isn’t a man’s world,” Charlie spoke up. She couldn’t stand to listen to his archaic remarks anymore. “You’re behind the times, you know. This battle was fought some years ago, and we won it. You have to treat us like equals.”

  “You ain’t equal,” Ralph said, stomping back up to her desk. “You’re just a piece of ass, good for one thing and one thing only. When you get that through your head, you might be worth something. Right now, not so much. And don’t go complaining about me to the captain again. What goes around, comes around.” He stalked away.

  Charlie couldn’t resist. She blinked her eyes. She really hadn’t meant to.

  Ralph stubbed his toe and went sailing, his arms wind milling like a kite in a high wind, but he couldn’t catch his balance. He fell heavily into a desk chair, which scooted out from under him and sent him careening into the bottled water cooler. It tipped over and shattered, dousing him with water. He lay there with water dripping down his face. Charlie walked over to him.

  “I see what you mean,” she said.

  The squad room was quiet for about a half of a second then exploded with laughter. Charlie repressed a grin as she held out a hand to the man. His face darkened with fury, and he knocked aside her hand and scrambled to his feet.

  “Stay out of my way, bitch, or you’ll be sorry,” he muttered and stalked out.

  Nick passed him as he left the room and surveyed the scene. Without a word, he turned and left again. The men went back to work, chuckling under their breath. Charlie tried to concentrate on how to handle her latest assignment, but she knew that despite her successes today with the rest of the squad, she’d made a bad enemy as well.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh my dear, what a lovely man your captain is. I can see why you want to work there,” Claire said later as they all settled in Phil’s drawing room with salt-rimmed glasses of margaritas.

  “I’m sure that’s not the reason she became a cop, Claire,” said Beck, casting an understanding smile at his sister-in-law.

  “No, I’m not saying that’s why she chose to be a…cop.” Claire always paused a beat before saying the word. It seemed obvious that, not only did she have trouble with Charlie being a witch, but a cop as well. She’d confessed to never understanding her daughters. But Charlie knew she loved them all.

  “I’m just saying what a charming man Captain Hilliard is,” her mother went on. “Why he listened to every word I said as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. Any woman would be flattered by that.”

  “Mums, I sincerely hope you didn’t bore him talking about me,” Charlie said. “The less he knows about me the better.”

  “Well, of course I talked about you, dear,” Claire said, her blue eyes innocently wide and clear. “And I’m sure he wanted to know. He seemed interested, and the way he looked at you now and then, I thought, maybe, his interest wasn’t just for an employee.”

  “Does anyone need a refill on their drinks? I’m making a fresh batch of margaritas,” Charlie said and sprang to her feet. She didn’t want to have her mother speculating on Nick’s possible romantic interest in her. She’d made a big enough fool out of herself as it was. She hurried off to the kitchen and set to work with the blender and soon had another batch of icy drinks ready.

  “Just in time,” she muttered, hearing the doorbell ring, followed by her mother’s light voice.

  “By the way, that must be the captain,” Claire said. “I hope you don’t mind, Phil, that I invited him over for a drink this evening?”

  Her words were greeted by silence from the drawing room, and Charlie stood in the butler’s pantry ready to reenter with a picture of margaritas in her hand, unable to move or think. Her mother had casually invited her boss, the man she had developed a terrific crush on—no, the man she had the hots for big-time—to the house and hadn’t given her a warning? She glanced down at her shapeless sweatpants and faded top. She’d plaited her hair into one long braid down her back to keep it out of her face. No makeup. She’d kill Mums. What was she thinking? Didn’t she remember what it was like to be a young woman and wanting to look attractive to a sexy man like Nick Hilliard?

  Evidently, the people in the drawing room had recovered from Claire’s announcement, for Beck moved toward the foyer to open the front door.

  “I’ll get it,” he called needlessly over his shoulder.

  Suddenly, the pocket doors slid open, and Phil and Sera crowded in.

  “Did you hear Mums?” Phil asked.

  “Of course, I heard her,” Charlie snapped. “What was she thinking?”

  “She was just trying to be friendly,” Sera said softly. She couldn’t bear to criticize their mother.

  “Friendly, my ass,” Charlie snapped. “Once again, she’s meddling in my life.”

  “Well, it can’t be undone now,” Phil said.

  “Yes, it can,” Charlie said, a bit of dawning hope blooming in her chest. “I could freeze this whole scenario and send Nick on his way without any memory of coming here.”

  “You can’t do that in front of Mums,” Phil said. “Besides, he came here because he wants to see more of you.”

  “How do you know that?” Charlie snapped.

  “He’s here,” Phil answered flatly.

  “Yes, he is here, and he’s so handsome,” Sera said with a wistful note to her voice as she peered through the cracked door.

  “Come away from there,” Charlie said, jerking her backward and slamming the door so the people in the drawing room jumped.

  “Oh, what was that?” Claire exclaimed.

  “The girls are in the kitchen making drinks,” Beck said hastily. “They’ll be out soon. Won’t you sit down, Captain Hilliard.”

  “Call me Nick,” he answered.

  Charlie and her sisters had frozen during this conversation then retreated to the kitchen. Phil examined her critically.

  “You can’t go out there looking like that,” she said and blinked her eyes.

  Charlie felt her clothes yanked away and looked to find herself dressed in a low cut, black cocktail dress that clung to every curve she possessed. Her matching heels were so high, she wasn’t sure she could walk in them.

  “A little overdone for an evening at home,” she said. “Besides, I am who I am, and he can just see me the way I was dressed.” She blinked, and her sweatpants and top returned.

  “Oh my, she’s right, she’s right,” Sera said as kindly as she could. “You do look a bit of a mess. But maybe something a little more normal.”

  She blinked her eyes, and Charlie found herself dressed in low-heeled loafers and a conservative skirt and blouse, the kind they wore back in the last century. She didn’t make a complaint at first, for she and Phil both stared at Sera. They’d never known their uber conservative little sister to ever use her magic before, even when they were kids. Mums had told them not to, and Sera was the good child who always listened and obeyed.

  Finally, Phil broke the silence. “She can’t wear that,” she objected. “She looks like a librarian.”

  “She looks normal,” Sera said defensively, tugging at her own conservative skirt.

  “Normal isn’t good,” Phil said. “She needs to look hot.”

  Charlie could feel the sizzle as Phil nodded, and Charlie found herself clad in a strapless salsa dress, which barely covered her tush.

  “I’m going in as I was,” she growled and snapped her finger for emphasis. The salsa dress disappeared, the beat-up sweatpants were back.

  “Phil, are you guys coming out?” Beck asked, sticking his head in the door.

  “Beck, you’re a man,” Phil said, hands on her hips.

  “You think?” he teased, and Phil flushed. Her body swayed toward his just the m
iniscule kind of way that made Charlie envy her.

  “Charlie is determined to go out there like this,” her sister stated with such exasperation, Beck knew what side to take.

  “Yeah, that’s a problem,” he said. “He’s got on a suit and looks like a man on the prowl.”

  “See,” Phil said and nodded her head.

  A skin-tight red dress hugged Charlie’s figure. Charlie snapped her finger again, and she was dressed in her uniform.

  “Umm,” Beck said. “Whatever she has on, we need to get back out there.”

  Charlie stalked out of the kitchen and headed for the drawing room. In the doorway, Mums caught sight of her and gaped at the uniform, but Nick didn’t notice her. He stood half-turned, staring into the fire. And Beck was right. He looked knock-dead handsome in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt beneath. He’d forgone a tie and left the top button open, baring his tanned throat. Charlie had a breathless desire to dive into that neck and follow the column of his throat all the way down to every other part of his body.

  At Claire’s gasp, Nick looked up, but not before Phil had the last word. Charlie felt her uniform disappear and glanced down to see herself wearing a pale blue silk dress that ended way above the knees and a pair of matching sandals. Too late to do anything about it now. At least her chest was covered, she thought and went to greet her boss and the man of her most erotic dreams, day or night.

  His eyes reflected warm lights that made her body heat up, and his smile seemed intimate, for her alone. She couldn’t move, but Phil took care of that. She shoved past with the pitcher of margaritas. The moment was gone, if it had ever existed.

  “You look lovely,” Nick said.

  “Thank you,” Charlie said and felt awkwardness settle over her. She, the motor mouth of the three sisters, who’d never been without a word to utter, now found herself tongue-tied. She gave herself a mental shake.

  “It was nice of you to drop by,” she said and handed him a margarita from the tray Phil offered.

  “Your mother was kind to invite me,” he said. His words came out smooth and oh, so polite. His gaze was anything but.

  “Well, isn’t this nice,” Claire was saying brightly, seemingly ignorant of the tension in the air.

  “That was a nice ceremony today,” Beck said. “It was good to see Charlie get credit for her work.”

  “Oh, my, yes,” Claire said proudly and beamed.

  “Long overdue,” Phil said, sipping at her third drink. She offered Nick a smile to soften her criticism.

  “It was wonderful,” Sera said softly and set her drink aside untouched.

  “Well, the wheels grind slowly,” Nick said, “but they do grind.” He turned to Beck. “I heard you got your coaching job back.”

  “Yeah, it feels good to be back working with the kids.”

  The two of them launched into a discussion regarding the top athletes for this year’s high school football team, but Charlie felt his gaze on her now as she moved about the room and chatted with her sisters.

  Drinks were refilled, and Claire was positively giddy. Phil glanced at Charlie, who nodded in agreement to an unspoken assessment.

  “Mums, I insist you stay over with us tonight,” Phil said, taking Claire’s elbow. “I think you’ve had a bit much to drink.”

  “Now, Philomena, you know that’s not true. I never drink to excess.”

  “We know, Mums,” Charlie said, sending a mischievous smile to her sister, “but wouldn’t it be nice to wake up to Phil’s wonderful homemade pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon.” That should pay her back for the fancy silk dress and impossibly high-heeled sandals that hurt like the devil.

  “You know, I just like a bit of yogurt in the morning,” Claire said. She sighed and wagged her head as if trying to clear it.

  “I can drive Mums home if she doesn’t want to stay,” Sera offered.

  “Oh, I’ll stay, if that’s what you want me to do. My house is kind of lonely at times, now that you’re all out on your own.”

  “Come on, Mums, we’ll walk you up to your room,” Phil said and took one of Claire’s elbows while Sera took the other.

  “You don’t need to come up, Charlie,” Phil stipulated. “Beck, we need you.”

  They all hurried from the room, half dragging Claire so she glanced at them in surprise. Nick stood by the fireplace once again, the firelight playing over his face and tall figure. He smiled.

  “Nice family,” he said.

  “A conniving, manipulative group if ever I saw one,” Charlie said, embarrassed at their obvious machinations.

  “Why would they think they needed to leave us alone?” His voice was husky, his half smile enough to make her heart stutter.

  “You’ve got me. You’re my boss, not my boyfriend.” She shrugged as if she didn’t really care.

  “No clue, huh?”

  Nick had moved across the room silently and now stood close to her, so close she could feel his heat. Her own had ratcheted up about fifty degrees. She shivered. The silk dress was impossibly thin. She felt as if she was standing before him completely naked, or maybe that was just her wish. She let that image sink in for a minute or two and further imagined Nick standing before her the same way. Her brain didn’t balk, a worn path to that image was well established by now plus a lot more. She’d even gone so far as to strip him of his uniform, for her view only, and nearly given herself away. She had to be careful, she reminded herself. She didn’t want Nick or anyone else to guess her secret fantasy world. Or did she? He was here, and his eyes clearly stated his admiration for her. Admiration, hell, it was more than that. Was that lust she read in his eyes? Couldn’t be. She was just wishing again.

  “Look,” she said in her best no-nonsense manner. “I kind of assumed, I mean I made a bit of a—I’m perfectly aware that you’re my boss and nothing can go beyond that.”

  “Why not?” His voice had acquired a ragged edge to it.

  She was afraid to look at him, afraid she’d only imagined that spark in his eyes. She couldn’t make a fool of herself twice in one day. Her pride just couldn’t handle that. Stop thinking with your crotch, she told herself, and all the time, her body was coming alive with a million jolts of electrical pulses that screamed for him to touch her.

  “Why not?” he repeated.

  “Well, it’s not good form to get involved with your boss, especially when he’s the captain and the other guys are going to think I’m just making up to you to get ahead.” She turned to look at him then, their bodies nearly touching, but for once, she ignored the fireworks between them, at least, she tried. “I like being a cop, and I don’t want the guys to think I’m trading on my femininity.”

  “That makes it pretty tough for a guy to get close.” Was he leaning toward her?

  Yes, he was gazing at her lips, his eyes half closed. He had the sexiest eyes she’d ever seen. When he looked at her, she could only think of blue volts of electricity, crackling and marking her forever. Then she reminded herself they could go from smoldering to chipped ice in an instant.

  His lips brushed hers. She hadn’t expected that, she was too caught up in his eyes. Now she struggled to find some tiny bit of a backbone. She couldn’t let this happen. Had he really kissed her, or had she made the first move in closing the distance between their mouths? If she had, then he certainly hadn’t pulled away.

  “I like being a cop,” she whispered. His scent filled her head, making it difficult to think. “I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”

  She caught her breath and leaned in for another kiss. His arms had slid around her waist, and he turned her into him so her breasts crushed against his chest. She felt his long thighs melding to hers and felt the hot fullness between them. Her panties must be soaked, she was so moist and ready.

  His tongue brushed across her lips, which she parted without hesitation, then she tasted him, felt the demanding thrust of his tongue and knew she was lost. At that moment, she’d do anything she ha
d to for him to continue kissing her like this, no, for him to swing her up in his arms and march up the stairs to find a spare bedroom and take her again and again.

  She was breathless when they parted.

  “You give as good as you get,” he said, mere inches from her mouth.

  “Always,” she murmured and unwillingly opened her eyes.

  Up close, his crisp good looks were even more amazing. She was surrounded by him—his looks, his scent, his heat and his taste—all an erotic combination that made her crotch weep with need. An urge to wrap her legs around his waist and insist he take her right here, right now, nagged at her, and she was glad when he took hold of her hips and eased her away. His glittering eyes said his action wasn’t a rejection, but an effort to give them both some room.

  “What are we going to do about this?” he asked quietly, and she wanted to weep with frustration.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think you were even aware of me.”

  “Liar,” he said softly, his gaze filled with desire.

  She felt the floor coming up to meet her and straightened her back and jutted her chin. “Okay, I kind of thought so, but you were always so formal and stern.”

  “I’m your captain.”

  “Yeah, and that’s the problem.” She sighed. “This can’t go anywhere.”

  “Not an answer,” he said roughly.

  She looked up at him, sure her face she was suffused with a wild joy that filled her heart.

  “This could be only a passing fantasy,” she said doubtfully.

  “Is that what you think it is?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” She was afraid to make a commitment.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said, turning away. Disappointment spiraled through her. “Maybe it’s important enough for us to find out for sure.”

  Disappointment melted away.

  “We’d have to be…” She grappled for a word. “Circumspect.”

  He chuckled then grew serious.

  “Meaning, we won’t flaunt it. I’d like to say, let’s take it slow, but I’m not sure that’s possible,” he said and reached for her.

  Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her thoroughly then stepped back, which fortunately allowed her to take a deep breath and not swoon all over him.