Witches of Three: Charlene (3 page)

“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 had 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.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening,” he said with a certainty she admired and cursed. They couldn’t get involved, but they already were. “We’ll drive over to the lake and find a place to have dinner. We’ll talk where we…”

She knew what he meant, where people were and they had to control themselves. The problem was she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to fuck, right here, right now.

“I would like that,” she said, which was a total lie. She didn’t need food, she needed sex, hot sex, with Nick Hilliard, and she needed it now.

Seemingly unaware of her feelings, he dropped another light kiss on her lips, all proper and casual then he was gone, his long strides taking him out of the house and away from her. She blinked, wondering if what had happened had just been a figment of her imagination.

“Oh, please, don’t let it be,” she whispered then went to deal with her nosy sisters who were crouched on the staircase eavesdropping!

Chapter Three

Okay, so it wasn’t easy to be in the same building with Nick Hilliard and not want to go into his office and strip off her clothes and lay across his desk like a heathen sacrifice that he couldn’t refuse. If she did that, someone would walk in, sure as ducks fly, and with her kind of luck, it would be Ralph Latimer and the whole department would know.

Of course, she could wipe his memory clean, and that would be a gift to the whole world, or she could just make time stand still while she and Nick did the grand dirty deed on his desk, but someone might try to call in with a real emergency, or she could—she wouldn’t. She’d play it straight.

Out on patrol, away from Nick, she was able to think rationally, thank God, but even there, she had trouble keeping her mind on things. She was driving, and twice, she’d nearly run a red light. Jerome Rodrigo, her partner who had been relabeled Geronimo the moment he’d stepped into the department, glanced at her.

“Something bothering you, Spencer?” he asked.

“Just preoccupied. Sorry.” She drew a breath and vowed to keep her mind on the road.

“Hey, what do you think about the captain?” he asked.

“He’s okay,” she muttered.

“Yeah, he’s a stand-up guy.” The young Latino glanced at her. “By the way, congratulations on your award.”

“Like I said. I didn’t earn it on my own. It belongs to all of us.”

“Yeah, that was a nice speech you gave. Uh-oh.” He shifted in his seat and peered out the window as a gang of teenaged boys sprinted down the sidewalk, knocking into other pedestrians. A man ran out of one of the shops, shouting after them.

“Cut ‘em off at the corner,” Geronimo said, but Charlie was already picking up speed.

She spun the wheel, and the car swerved around the intersection. She braked sharply. Busy looking behind them, some of the boys didn’t see the cruiser until they ran into it. Those who did, tried to sprint away, but Geronimo was already out of the car and nabbing them. Charlie jumped out on her side and rounded the car, giving one young punk an upper cut as he tried to push her aside. Her cuffs were ready, and she handcuffed two of the kids together. By the time she had them into the back of the cruiser, the storeowner had arrived.

“Little hoodlums,” he yelled, shaking his fists. “You see what happens, you steal, you get caught. Now you go to jail, and you deserve it.” He got closer to them and yelled some more. “I know you, I tell your mothers.”

“Okay, back up,” Charlie said to him, and he obeyed, but his face was flushed and his eyes snapped with anger. “If you want to press charges—”

“I gonna press charges,” he said, shaking his head. “I give them chances before, but it don’t make no difference. They come back and steal some more. This time, I press charges.” He raised his voice and his fist. “You hear? This time, I press charges.”

“Yeah, yeah,” one of the kids said, his eyes filled with derision. He glanced at his buddy, who gave the man the finger.

“That’s enough,” Charlie snapped. “You and your pals are in real trouble here. Don’t make it worse.” She slammed the door closed before they could answer.

Geronimo dragged a handcuffed boy back to the cruiser and shoved him inside.

“I come down and press charges,” the storekeeper said.

“You do that, sir. We’ll hold them at the twelfth street station,” Geronimo said and climbed back into the cruiser.

Charlie started the motor and pulled into traffic.

“Hey, you can’t do this to us,” one of the boys, who’d shown himself to be the ringleader, said from the backseat. “You don’t have any charges against us. That old man’s balmy.”

“Nevertheless, you’re going down to the station to answer a few questions,” Geronimo said. “If you’re innocent, you’ll be released. If not…” He shrugged. “So sit back and relax.”

The boys fell silent, contemplating their future, no doubt. The ringleader looked from Geronimo to Charlie.

“So who’s this?” he asked derisively. “Your woman? What do you do? Make her come drive you around ‘cause you don’t have the balls to do it yourself? You rent her out? I’ll take ten minutes with her, providing you don’t ask too much. I’ll even pay a little extra if she keeps the uniform on while we do it.”

Geronimo slapped the back of his fist against the wire divider. The boys jumped and settled back in the seat.

“I never had me a cop,” the ringleader said defiantly. “You change your mind, let me know.”

Charlie remained silent during this exchange. She knew the kid was just venting his frustration and hoping to cause an incident that would lend him some leverage once they got to their destination. Silence was the best way to handle such things.

Once they had their perps lodged in the holding cell, they settled down to do the paperwork. Charlie heard a familiar voice and glanced up. Nick stood at the other end of the room, chatting with another officer. Her heart contracted, and she frowned, trying to concentrate on her paperwork, but his voice worked its magic, reminding her of how husky and sexy it had sounded last night. She wrinkled her forehead in an effort to ignore him and his voice. Suddenly, he was there, standing beside her desk.