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Authors: Candace Havens

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BOOK: Charmed & Dangerous
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Eleven

Thursday, midnight

Dubai

Spells: 3

T
he sheik never made it to dinner; he stayed locked in his office on a conference call. I’ll settle things with him tomorrow.

Tapped into his cousin tonight and the thoughts were more lucid. Made me wonder if he might be schizophrenic. Instead of the blood and limbs from his previous thoughts, I found him worrying about someone called Blackstock. He had no face to go with the name, which made me think he’d never met the person.

Let my mind wander over his and didn’t see anything that had to do with the shelters or bombs. Couldn’t get a handle on who exactly Blackstock is, but he’s important. When the name came up the cousin had a tremendous sense of anticipation. The sheik may be right about someone else trying to kill him. Maybe it’s this Blackstock guy.

Huh? Cell phone’s ringing.

Friday, 1
A.M
.

Sleep isn’t going to be easy tonight. Confusion reigns and I don’t know what to think.

Didn’t get to the phone quick enough but Dr. Sam left me a strange message.

“Bronwyn.” Long pause. “Damn, I miss you.”

Called him back and he sounded so sexy it made my heart hurt.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice filled the line.

After the other day when he couldn’t wait to get off the phone to go play with my friends, I was surprised. He spoke like he actually cared. “Tell me what you’ve been doing the last few days.”

Couldn’t tell him about my work with the sheik, so I tried to play it safe. “Oh, nothing special.”

“Well, if it’s not that special, why can’t you come home?”

Oops, he got me there. “Well, I guess it’s special to the people I’m working with but I can’t talk about it. Security reasons.”

“Do you see me as some kind of security risk?” He huffed and I imagined him stomping his foot like a small child in a fit of temper.

“Well, no. They asked me not to talk about it so I’m not going to. The phones might be tapped. Could we please just leave it at ‘I’m busy,’ and move on?” Didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch but as a general rule I don’t like explaining anything I do.

“Damn, Bronwyn, this isn’t at all going the way I meant. Can we please start over? So how’s the weather in Dubai?”

I laughed. “It’s hot and you can make better small talk than that, Sam. Tell me how Mr. Gunther’s doing.”

“The man’s mind is incredible. He’s filled one of the journals you left and is working on the second one. He shows no signs of mental degeneration. Margie tells me that he only stops writing to take his meals and play the occasional game of chess. Old coot beat the pants off me the other night in five moves.”

Sam with no pants. Good visual.

“Did you let him win?” I could just imagine the gleam of triumph in Mr. Gunther’s piercing blue eyes.

“Wish I could say yes, but no. He beat me fair. I wasn’t on my game though. My thoughts kept wandering to a witch on the other side of the world.”

That’s the Dr. Sam I know, always quick with those underhanded compliments. “Tell me about Kira and Caleb. Are they making everyone ill with their lovey-dovey crap?”

“They’re attached at the hip. When we had dinner with them the other night they couldn’t stop touching each other.”

“We?”

“Oh, they asked Simone to join us for dinner.”

Note to self: Bash my very dear friends upside their idiotic heads when next I see them. Did they not clue in to the fact that Simone’s in man-hungry mode and goes for anything with two legs and a dick right now?

“Bronwyn? Are you there?”

“I’m here.” My jaw tightened at the thought of Simone pawing my man. I know she can’t help herself when she gets in these moods, but she’d promised to keep her hands off.

“Anyway, Caleb had to go back to Dallas to work on a new assignment, but Kira’s meeting him there this weekend.”

Truthfully the news about Kira and Caleb came as no surprise, but I wondered just how much time Dr. Sam and Simone had spent alone together since I’d been gone.

“So you’ve made friends with Simone?” I could feel my right eye twitch with tension.

“She’s quite a woman. At first she’s a bit much, but once you get used to her, she’s fun. Her sense of humor never fails no matter what the situation.”

“Good to hear you’re getting along so well.” Worked hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “What’s she up to today?”

“This morning she told me Kira had ordered books on a new martial arts technique and that’s how she planned to spend the day. Simone promised to show Kira how to kill a man with just two easy moves, or some nonsense like that.”

With Simone it wasn’t nonsense. She could kill a guy in one move and she had the strength of five linebackers packed into that lithe five-foot-seven-inch body. What bothered me the most was the fact that Sam knew so many of the intimate day-to-day details about Simone. Could I actually be jealous? Argh!

“Sam—”

“What is it?”

“Before when you said you missed me—”

“I meant it. Every word. But—”

Man, I hate the word
but
.

“—We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks and it feels like things have turned serious rather fast. Not that I mind,” he added hastily.

“I’m sure you have a point in there somewhere.” Gritted my teeth and waited for the one-two punch.

“Look, we have some kind of connection. Would you agree?”

“Yes, there’s a connection.” My mind drifted to the night we made love. Every time we touched, our souls combined into one, so that when we separated, it physically hurt. I’d never experienced sensations like that, and to be honest, I wanted to run as fast as I could away from them.

“But you’re on the other side of the world—saving lives, I know—but I’m here. In Sweet. We lead two very separate lives. I like you, Bronwyn. But—”

Have I mentioned how much I hate that word?

“—I wonder if we shouldn’t take a step back and catch our breath. Give us both an opportunity to adjust to this new situation.”

What the fuck was he talking about? He sounded like one of those television psychologists spouting psychobabble to the masses.

I wanted to scream and—even worse—cry. I never cry, especially over a man. Didn’t he say that he liked me? Missed me? Why in the hell does he need to take a step back? I mean, I’m quite willing to run the other way, but that doesn’t explain his actions.

Calling him vile names seemed an inappropriate response, so I did my best to quell my temper. “I understand. Now, if that’s all, I’d really like to get some rest. It’s late.”

“Wait, Bronwyn, I think we need to talk this out. I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you. Phone must be going out. Darn battery.” Click. I hung up on the bastard.

Why? Why do I do this to myself? It had only been a couple of weeks and I’d let myself get totally into this guy.

I never seem to remember the rule that men were put on this earth to drive us fucking insane.

8
A.M
.

Lost boyfriends: 1

Heading back into town with the sheik this morning. He has meetings and wants me to read some of the participants. He’s not telling me everything and I may tap into his mind when we get there. I only promised not to do it in his home. Never said a word about the office.

If I let myself, I could feel a twinge of guilt because he was so nice to me last night. After the phone debacle with Sam, I headed to the garden for air.

Hadn’t been there long when Azir stepped through the doorway off the east wing. He wore a fitted rib-knit T-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare, and he looked damn sexy.

“Bronwyn, you’re up late.”

“So are you.”

His brown eyes questioned mine and I realized I must have worn my emotions on my face. I slipped my mask into place and saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I don’t require much rest. Four hours or so gets me through the day.” He stepped closer and motioned to a small bench beside the tiny man-made creek that ran through the garden.

“You’re a lucky man. I need at least eight and I’m always grateful for more.” I yawned.

“So what’s keeping you up tonight?”

No way I’d tell Sheik Azir that I had man troubles with Dr. Sam. So I sat like an idiot and shrugged.

“I don’t want to pry, but if it’s a personal problem, perhaps I could provide some perspective.”

“Thank you. That’s kind, but I needed some air. That’s all.” Not in this lifetime would I ever share my personal troubles with a client.

I knew he didn’t believe me. Still, he smiled and we sat on the bench just enjoying the sounds of the water bubbling through the creek.

Leaned back on my hands and looked up at the sky, covered with a sheet of twinkling stars.

For several minutes we sat in silence. I moved to leave and the sheik spoke.

“When I turned six my father took me into the desert to commune with the stars. During the day we rested in a small tent and stayed away from the heat as much as possible. But for five nights we stayed up until dawn and he taught me all of the constellations and told me stories of the Bedouin tribe. His people.” He turned to look at me.

It was the first time I’d ever heard any mention of his father. The family didn’t speak of him. I figured he must have been dead for several years.

“I get my interest in magic from him. He made me believe that anything I dreamed could be possible. We tracked footprints of those who had traveled before us and I learned much in those five days.”

“Sounds like you had a wonderful father.”

“He is a great man.”

“Is?” No time like the present to find out if big daddy’s alive or dead.

Azir gave me a strange look.

“I’m sorry. I thought your father died.”

“No. He’s been away for the last year. Several of the Bedouin tribes in the north have land disputes. He travels around settling arguments. My father is greatly respected among his tribe.”

“And he left you to run the family business?”

“He never cared for it.” Azir sighed and stood. He reached out a hand to help me up off the bench. “His heart was never in it and when the opportunity arose for him to go, it turned out best for everyone.”

Something wistful in his voice made me wonder if life would have been different for the sheik had his father hung around.

“Can I ask something else?”

Those brown eyes honed in on my face. “Yes.”

“If your father hadn’t left the business, what would you be doing?”

“Teaching.”

Okay, talk about the last thing I expected to hear. “What would you teach?”

“There are many wonderful things about my country, but raising individuals with open minds is not one of them. Some blame our faith, but our faith is open to all and much more accepting than most would think.” He paced the small path in the garden. His mood intensified as the passion rose in his voice.

“In many ways I’m jealous of you. You live in a place where being different is a good thing. People in America have so many options. And that is what I want for my country.”

Yes, we’re all so accepting that some jerk’s put a bounty on my head. “There’s good and bad that goes along with that. Child and spousal abuse and crimes are at an all-time high. And the homeless problem is beyond belief.

“Teaching is a noble profession, Sheik. But look at the difference between crime here and there. You won’t find any here, because it’s almost nonexistent in your country. And while we do have the freedom to express ourselves, it isn’t the rosy picture you imagine.” I shrugged.

“Oh, I know of what you speak. It’s far from perfect but there are opportunities there for most who seek them. It’s not for myself that I want these things. I send my sister to school there with the hope that she will stay and have a life she could never imagine here.”

For some reason this guy always had the welfare of others in mind. Where were the flaws? Other than being ruthless in business and a bit bullheaded. I’d been prejudiced when I first saw him and assumed he had a harem at home. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

“What are you thinking, Bronwyn?” His voice sounded husky and I met his eyes. Damn, I know that look. That’s the serious I-want-to-get-in-your-pants look. Can’t say I don’t feel the same way, but the “no screwing clients” rule won’t be broken by me.

And if I’m really honest with myself, I’ll admit that he doesn’t make me feel like Sam does. If that warlock has ruined me for other men, I’ll have to kill him.

“I’m thinking that some things are way too good to be true.” I stepped away from the heat I could feel from his body. “What time do you want me ready to go into town tomorrow?”

He accepted the change of subject with gentlemanly respect. “My first meeting is at ten. We’ll leave at nine.”

I checked my watch. Ick. “I’m off to bed.”

“Good night, witch.” The way he said
witch
sounded more like
darling
or
lover
. Yikes! He touched my shoulder as I walked past.

“’Night.”

Can’t even imagine how I could consider the sheik as a lover. Well, that’s not true. The guy’s gorgeous, brave, and compassionate, and the list goes on. But he’s a friggin’ sheik. What is it with men lately? Never been into the whole masochist thing, but I’m beginning to wonder.

Twelve

Friday, 10
P.M
.

Dubai

Spells: 3

A
nother long day at the office. At least the sheik didn’t get kidnapped this time. Can’t say I like the people he does business with in Dubai. Rudest bunch of jerks I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of assholes in my line of work.

Some prince from a neighboring country wouldn’t shake my hand. Wouldn’t touch a single female, especially an
American
. Whatever. He’s related to Azir, but I never figured out how. Most of the men Azir introduced me to nodded slightly at my presence, but for the most part ignored the fact that I sat two feet away. Annoying.

Not that I needed any encouragement in the men-are-toads department, but these guys sealed the deal. Most of the conversations centered on land that the prince wanted to buy and evidently Azir had no desire to sell. His office in the sky filled with steam coming off the prince’s ears. But the sheik wouldn’t budge.

Lots o’ angry thoughts coming from the prince and I wondered if perhaps he’s our guy. Nothing clear enough to pin the bombs on him but I’ll keep tapping in now and then. He’s a definite suspect.

The best part of the day happened before we ever left the house. I finally had a chance to visit the women in the “secret wing.” I complain about men on a regular basis, but I’ve got nothing on these chicks.

Before directing me through the doors where the two guards held great big guns, the sheik explained what was about to happen.

“A few of the women have heard about your work to protect the shelters and want to meet you.” He talked in hushed tones as we walked through the long corridor so as not to wake any of the women who might be sleeping.

“Each woman has her own set of rooms and they stay here until new identities can be given to them. They come from all over the world. All that I ask is whatever you see or hear today, you keep to yourself. I’m duty bound to protect these women, and it is my wish you understand how far I will go to do so.”

The sheik had just thrown a mild threat my way, but I understood his point, so I let it go.

“I’ve sworn to protect you and your family, and from what I can see these women fall under that umbrella.” I grabbed his wrist to stop him before we entered through an elaborate wooden door decorated with tiny pink and green flowers. “What you do for these women is extraordinary; I’d never do anything to put them in danger.”

He accepted what I had to say with a nod and knocked on the door. Behind it an African princess lived in what I call the pink room. It had been filled with every shade of pink the mind could imagine. From fuchsia to bubblegum the place was covered. And I haven’t seen so many ruffles since my fifth birthday party when my mom decided petticoats were to be worn under all of the little girls’ dresses for high tea. It was overwhelming then and almost equally so now.

The sheik stepped back through the door after introducing me to Naraba and left us to our conversation.

“Sheik Azir is a most generous man,” she told me as we sat on a plush sofa covered in pink velvet. “I’d spent the last seven years in a prison cell that consisted of stone. No chairs, tables, or beds allowed. No comforts at all.”

“May I ask why you were in prison?” I shifted on the sofa and couldn’t imagine this graceful, regal woman wrapped in silk sleeping on a cold stone floor for so many years.

“I’d been accused of adultery.”

“And they threw you in jail for that? Where I come from they celebrate it in the press when movie stars do it.”

“We come from quite different worlds, but you must understand something. I did not commit the act of which I was accused.” She clasped her hands tightly as if she could hold the pain to her. “My parents made me marry a friend of my father’s when I turned seventeen. He had promised to be a good husband and was quite a bit older than me. He took me to his bed but was dissatisfied with my performance. I knew nothing of the act and was only a frightened girl. After that he ignored me.”

There are way too many assholes in the world.

“Two months into my marriage I was raped by another man. My husband, feeling I’d been soiled, wanted to be rid of me. So I was accused of adultery. They threw me in jail and I was given a death sentence.”

You know when you have those days and nothing is going right? Well, from now on I’ve got something to compare those days to because while I tend to think I’ve been to hell and back, this woman had actually been there.

“How did the sheik find you?”

“He was traveling with a group of human rights activists and talked with me during his visit. A few days later I boarded a plane and I’ve been here for the last six months. I’m not sure how he did it, but I’ll be forever grateful.”

I wish I could say that was the worst story I heard this morning but there were more. A Chinese woman from a small village who had been sexually mutilated for giving birth to triplets. Her babies had been killed and she was tortured. Another woman from Russia who had been forced into prostitution at the age of ten to help feed her family. The stories went on and on.

In my line of work I often see the worst humanity has to offer, but nothing like this. My heart hurt for these women. Amazingly, though, none seemed as broken as you might expect. They were strong and each working toward very specific goals.

I left feeling not sorry but proud. These incredible women had survived atrocities most of us couldn’t imagine and had managed to move on and create better lives.

But none of them would have been able to do it without Azir. In each case he had stepped forward and pulled these women out of dire situations. In a strange turn of coincidences the villains in each of their stories always wound up dead. I wondered if Azir had something to do with that. On the way into town he wouldn’t talk about it.

“There may be a time when I need your help to save a lost soul,” he told me in the car. “Then you’ll find out how we are able to do what it is we must.”

He did promise to consider my offer to make each of the women protection charms to keep them safe in the future. It’s so odd to hear these stories from women who think he’s the greatest man in the world and two hours later sit in an office with men who think he is the reason their country has gone to hell.

Tried to tap into the prince but couldn’t. That means magic is involved. I’ll try again later and see what happens.

Saturday, noon

Azir’s asked me to travel with him to Oslo again. Don’t really have the clothes for it, but guess I’ll pick some things up when I get there. The PM is meeting us but no other dignitaries.

I wish they’d discuss their plans with me. Once we get out of this house and on the jet I’m reading the sheik’s mind and he can bite me if he doesn’t like it. Stubborn, mule-headed toad.

Sunday, 3
A.M
.

Oslo

We just got in and I’m too wired to sleep. We’re staying at a private residence, which is nice. Don’t have to worry so much about poisoned hotel food. The PM should be here in a few hours. Gotta grab some sleep before Miles arrives and yanks me out of this nice warm bed. I didn’t think it possible, but I swear it’s even colder than the last time we were here.

Azir’s sister loaned me a parka and boots, so at least I got to the house without freezing to death. I’ll pick up the rest of what I need later. Have no idea how long we will stay. Guess that’s something else to ask about tomorrow.

Snooze time.

Noon

Spells: 2

Charms: 3

This house isn’t as big as the sheik’s castle but it’ll do. It has a whole goth feel going for it, with deep red walls and black furniture. I always think of Norwegian architecture of being clean lines and light woods, but this is the exact opposite. I don’t think there’s a piece of furniture in this place less than two hundred years old. But for some reason it suits me. I love the darkness and the oldness. First thing this morning I put protection charms on all of the doors and windows and did a general spell to protect all the inhabitants of the home.

My bedroom is huge with a bay window that looks out onto mountains and a white wonderland. I love the carved mahogany bed with the curtains. Definitely think it’s something I’d like to replicate at home. These posts would be great for tying someone up. Not that I’d actually do it, but it’s nice to have options.

I had three e-mails from Dr. Sam. Seems he’s upset that I won’t take his phone calls. “You’re avoiding me,” he wrote. “I don’t like the way we left things. I care about you so much and I believe there’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”

Whatever. He’s right. I’m avoiding him but I have good reasons. I can’t deal with all that and protect these guys at the same time. I’ve got to focus on the business of keeping my charges alive.

There’s a lunch meeting at one to talk about security for both the sheik and the PM. These guys live their lives in meetings. Don’t know how they do it. Tapped into the PM when he walked in this morning.

Some corporate mergers in the oil industry have him worried, not to mention the fact that they found another bomb at his home in London. He’s mystified about who’s trying to kill him.

Noticed for the first time ever that the PM had a woman rolling around in that brain of his. Nothing dirty, just watching her walk into the office and he thought she had a nice smile. That’s the really bad part of reading minds. Sometimes you get way more information than you want to know.

Wonder if Miles would be jealous of the PM’s love interest. Haven’t run into the snippy little twit yet. Thank God for small favors. Darn. Spoke to soon. He’s at the door.

11
P.M
.

Strange. Strange. Tapped into Azir. He’s worried about so many things his mind constantly skips from one trauma to another. He doesn’t understand that I could help him if he’d open up and let me.

Decided to confront the sheik head-on but didn’t handle it well. We were at lunch and I told Azir and the PM that we had to make a list of suspects. I needed somewhere to start my mental investigation. They both gave me names but at the same time looked guilty of holding back.

“Look, you’ve hired me to protect you both and I’m doing that.” I put the pen I’d been taking notes with down on the table. “But you have to be honest with me or I quit. Right now. I’m going to walk out and get on a plane and go home because I’m tired of the subterfuge.”

The PM let out a huff, and Azir’s forehead crinkled into a frown.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m insubordinate,” I said. “Can’t help it. I’m made this way. Don’t get all huffy on me. Sheik, you know someone close to you, other than your cousin, has tried to kill you. Prime Minister, there was someone specific you were worried about but I know that name never made it to the list. If you don’t want to speak in front of each other for fear of destroying business relationships, fine. But I need those names.”

Complete silence for about three minutes, then both men rose, pushed in their chairs, and walked out without a word.

“Great.” I went upstairs to pack because I’d meant what I said. If they couldn’t be honest with me I had no hope of saving them from the danger they faced.

As I yanked my bag out of the wardrobe someone knocked.

Opened the door to find Azir standing there with his arms crossed against his chest. “I’ll talk to you but with the understanding that nothing I tell you leaves this room.”

“We’ve had this conversation before. I’ll keep your confidence.”

“I cannot say out loud what I think, because if it is true it will crush my family.”

“Perhaps I can help by telling you I believe I know who it is you suspect.”

He’d gone to stand by the window and his head snapped around. “No.”

“No?” I sat down on the bed. Did the man forget I read minds for a living? I knew he believed it to be his brother. All he had to do was say it.

“There’s no way you could know anything about who might be behind these latest attacks.”

“I’m not here to play games, Sheik. Do you believe Alkazir conspired with your cousin?”

He laughed. “If only it were that simple. It isn’t my brother who wishes me dead.” The grim set of his face told me that the next words out of his mouth would hurt more than anything he had said in a long time.

“You must understand I do not say this with a light heart.”

He ran his hand through his hair and turned toward the window again as he whispered, “It’s my father.”

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