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Authors: Temple Hogan

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BOOK: Witches of Three: Charlene
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“Let’s get out of here,” he said, and his voice was unaccountably husky. He took her elbow and turned toward the door.

She felt it, too, he thought in dismay, this stirring of emotions that demanded more of them than he could give. Still, the thought of what had just passed between them seemed to hold all kinds of possibilities.

They walked to the restaurant with her nearly running to keep up with his long strides. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t running away but knew it was a lie. He was scared shitless. He was grateful when they reached the restaurant and were led to a large table where a number of guys from the department were already seated. They raised their glasses in a loud cheer. At first, she looked stunned and glanced at Nick with disappointment. Then she rallied and returned everyone’s greeting with obvious appreciation.

Charlie was amazed then remembered there had been other lunches like this one for men, when the occasion called for it. Nick had made this happen. She felt like a fool. She’d clearly shown him she was interested and mistakenly thought he was as well. Embarrassment burned her cheeks.

She sat down in the seat he held for her and tried not to notice when he took a chair on the other side of the table beside her mother of all people. Well, that made things pretty clear, didn’t it? She’d overstepped the bounds. Big mistake when she was always striving for an air of professionalism. She had some fences to mend.

Lunch was short but delicious. Everyone talked at once, and laughed and teased and joked. Claire was beaming as she chatted with Nick, and he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Well, Claire possessed all the charm in the family, and she knew how to use it. Charlie prayed her mother wasn’t regaling Nick with tales of her naughty childhood. After all, he was her boss. The mood was so festive that she soon forgot her worries and found herself joining in. She was beginning to realize the rest of the department had accepted her more than she had them. She’d come in with a chip on her shoulder, expecting them to make it harder for her because she was a woman and a good-looking one at that.

Of course, there were a couple—Ralph Latimer being the first to come to mind—who’d been especially strident in his jokes and innuendos. She knew he only wanted to get her into bed, but she wasn’t interested. When she’d made that clear, he’d become even more insulting. She’d learned to ignore him. But now he stood up at the table, raised his beer and hollered for silence.

“Here’s to the best looking piece of ass in the department,” he bellowed, guffawing at his joke.

No one else laughed. They set down their glasses and simply looked at him. Nick broke the silence when he stood and raised his own glass.

“Here’s to one fine cop,” he said.

Everyone rose and cheered, except Latimer who fell back in his chair, his face dark and flushed with a combination of too much beer and embarrassment.

After lunch, she said farewell to her family and joined the squad as they walked back to the station house together, a solid wall of blue uniformed men and a women who represented law and order. Charlie was proud to be part of it. She’d never wanted anything else. Mums had never understood how her dainty, Dresden-doll-like daughter could enjoy chasing bad guys and hunting down murderers, but Mums had never really understood any of her three daughters. She’d loved them, worried over them and had accepted the fact that they were different from other young women. She’d always championed their decisions. Well, Charlie thought, it was probably hard to accept that your daughters were witches.

“Latimer,” Nick called as they walked back into the squad room. “See me in my office.”

Charlie thought nothing of it as she settled down with the paperwork for a man in his early twenties who’d been pulled in for a third time for selling dope near a high school. She was hoping he would lead her to the next level, up the chain of drug dealers. If they could find the source of the drugs, they could slow down the influx into their town. She was immersed in her work when she heard loud steps approaching. She glanced up to see Ralph Latimer stalking from the direction of Nick’s office, his face red, his lips a thin, hard line. His eyes, black with fury, focused on her. She held his gaze unflinchingly. He wasn’t a happy man, and she guessed Nick had called him on the carpet for something.

“Bitch,” he said as he passed her desk.

She went back to her work, but she heard grumbling to some of the other men.

“The captain put me on report just because I made that toast,” he whined. “If I’d done it about some other guy on the squad, nothing would have been said, but the captain wants her handled with kid gloves. I say if she can’t take it, she should get off the force and go to work in some lady’s shop.”

“The toast was inappropriate,” one of the other men said.

“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 miniscule 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.

BOOK: Witches of Three: Charlene
9.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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