The Heart of a Hero

by Janet Chapman

  Nicholas began beating the eggs. Rana might not be the person to seek advice from when he was trying to court a twenty-first-century woman, seeing how she’d been living in pre-prebiblical times when she’d first caught Titus’s interest. Maybe he should be asking the younger Mrs. Oceanus instead, as not only was Olivia a contemporary, but she also knew Julia personally. Surely she could—

  Solomon came tearing down the hall at the exact same time the other four cats raced toward the stairs leading up to the balcony. Nicholas set down the bowl of eggs with a heavy sigh and headed to his side door. “He was joking,” he called toward the balcony. “Theurgists don’t make cats pull their chariots. And it’s Romans who have chariots, anyway,” he muttered, opening the door and glaring at Mac.

  “It’s nice to see you, too,” Mac drawled as he walked in, followed by Titus.

  Nicholas went back to the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a large island counter, and poured the eggs into the pan. “You need to explain to my pets that you were joking about hooking them up to a chariot,” he said, adding shredded cheese and then pulling a spatula out of the drawer—even as he wondered if Julia had noticed that some of her apartment’s cooking utensils were missing.

  Then again, she couldn’t miss something she didn’t know had existed.

  “What are you doing home in the middle of the morning?” Mac asked, walking over and watching him carefully fold the eggs onto themselves.

  “And why do I hear your shower running if you’re out here cooking?” Titus asked, moving to Nicholas’s other side to also watch.

  “I’m home because I have company, and she’s taking a shower while I cook us breakfast.” He stifled a grin when that was met with absolute silence. “So if you gentlemen don’t mind,” he continued, nudging Mac out of the way so he could get down his two stolen plates, “I’d rather you left before she comes out wearing only my shirt and you set my pursuit back to the beginning by embarrassing her.”

  Mac moved up beside him again as Nicholas slid half the omelet onto one of the plates. “So you’ve given up on Julia Campbell?” the wizard asked.

  Nicholas stopped with the pan poised above the other plate and glared at him. “Exactly who do you think is in the shower?”

  Mac picked up the plate containing half the omelet and walked to the sink. “It can’t be Julia,” he said, gesturing out the window. “As I believe that’s her running out your driveway. Although she is wearing your shirt over her clothes.”

  Nicholas shoved his plate at Titus and crowded Mac out of the way, then looked out the window in time to see Julia sprinting around a curve in his driveway. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest—his sigh drowned out by the sound of forks hitting plates as his uninvited guests ate his and Julia’s breakfast.

  “I’m sorry we interrupted your little . . . interlude,” Titus said, sounding like he was still chewing. “But it’s just as well, as we’re here to discuss some trouble that seems to be brewing that might require your . . . expertise.”

  Nicholas turned to face them. “What’s going on?”

  His mouth full of omelet, Mac shrugged and swallowed. “We’re not exactly sure, but there are rumblings coming from the Teutons.”

  “More specifically, from the Danube area,” Titus added, setting his empty plate on the island counter. He looked around, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “It appears they’re about to clash with the Romans.”

  “You’re talking the second century BC,” Nicholas said, being careful to conceal his surprise. “You can’t think to interfere. That would change the course of history.” He sighed when the elder theurgist merely arched a brow, knowing he was in for a long conversation, as both Oceanuses had a habit of talking in riddles. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

  Chapter Nine

  Julia turned from locking the door of Foxglove Cottage to find Nicholas standing at the bottom of the steps, his arms folded over his chest, looking . . . unmovable.

  “Why did you run off this morning?” he asked quietly.

  “You mean as opposed to hanging around to explain to our boss’s husband why I was in your house instead of at work?”

  His eyes lit up like sunshine reflecting off glacial ice—a sign Julia was coming to recognize meant trouble. “I could have said I invited you to breakfast at my new home.”

  Julia picked up her cleaning kit and headed down the steps. “Like he’d believe that.”

  Nicholas moved to block her from getting in her cart—another little habit he had of using his size to get people to . . . cooperate. “Mac heard the shower running and saw the two omelets I’d made, so I explained that you had—”

  “Excuse me,” she said, pushing past him and sliding into the driver’s seat, utterly horrified. He’d told Mac she had been in the shower? “I’m already behind in my work,” she muttered, shoving the key in its slot to Nicholas’s shocked silence. “I’ll see you around,” she said, giving a wave as she zipped away at the speed of a fleeing turtle.

  But once she’d gone far enough to feel certain he wasn’t following her, Julia pulled into a scenic turnout on the cart path and dropped her head onto the steering wheel with a groan. Heaven help her, she was starting to feel pursued, almost as if Nicholas . . . liked her or something.

  But the really scary part was that she was actually starting to like him back.

  And that really couldn’t happen, Julia decided with another groan. She couldn’t be attracted to a man that handsome and confident and sexy, because she wasn’t any of those things. Was the guy blind or what?

  Julia suddenly sat up. Not blind—brilliant. Poor walking disaster Julia Campbell was the perfect solution to his chick magnet problem. Thanks to her father saying she should be grateful for any male attention the night Nicholas had brought her home—and gotten a free kiss without getting his face slapped—the guy knew she wasn’t exactly a . . . What was the opposite of a chick? A rooster? Stud?

  Yeah, she wasn’t exactly a stud magnet.

  Anyway, Nicholas must have decided they could be seen together having dinner or getting in his boat and disappearing for an entire day, and then he could tell everyone they were dating so the women would leave him alone. Because of course she wouldn’t complain if he saw her only occasionally, since she’d be so grateful for his attention.

  Oh yeah, she had his number, all right. Did the man honestly believe she’d let him just—no, wait. Wouldn’t that arrangement work pretty well for her, too? It should at least stop Peg from constantly trying to fix her up with one of Duncan’s cousins over in Pine Creek. And it wouldn’t hurt her reputation any, either, since she’d go from being both stupid and a slut to . . .

  Julia dropped her head onto the steering wheel with another groan. No, she really couldn’t do that to Nicholas. For as much as he might deserve it for using her to avoid being chased by beautiful, confident, sexy women, she couldn’t bring herself to elevate her reputation at the expense of his. And besides, there was still the danger of getting run down by a jealous female coworker.

  * * *

  Nicholas stood with his arms folded and frowned at Julia fleeing, undecided if he was impressed or really very disturbed that she had pushed her way past him as if he were nothing more than a recalcitrant child she no longer wished to deal with. Did the woman have no sense of self-preservation? Sweet Zeus, he’d had angry gods back down from him, and Julia had dismissed him with a cheery wave and driven off without a backward glance.

  Nicholas shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the common green, wondering if he hadn’t completely misread the lady. It was possible Julia truly had no interest in a romantic relationship, even several years after her failed marriage. Which raised the question: Should he regroup and form a new plan of attack, or simply accept defeat and move on?

  He stopped and turned to look back up the path. And just when had he ever walked away from a challenge? Hell, most battles—entire wars—w
ere lost but for one final flat-out storming of the castle. And the last time he checked, he still had a full arsenal of weapons, not the least being his willingness to fight dirty. That could mean an ambush, or taking advantage of an opponent’s weakness, or simply confusing them until they defeated themselves—and sometimes all three.

  And hadn’t Julia herself revealed a rather interesting weakness the night he’d eavesdropped on her and Trisha in the church?

  Nicholas started walking toward the resort again, his step matching his suddenly lighter mood. It was decided, then; he’d give one final push to capture Julia, and if the lovely lady still rebuffed him after experiencing a much longer taste of passion . . . well, then he might concede defeat.

  * * *

  “Hallo, is mijn naam Julia,” Julia repeated over the drone of the vacuum cleaner. She stopped in midpush and frowned down at the machine when it suddenly shut off—only to pivot with a yelp when someone called her name.

  “Sorry,” Olivia said with an apologetic shrug. “I thought pulling the plug would be less scary than walking up and tapping you on the shoulder.”

  “And getting punched in the nose?” Julia added as she pulled out her earbuds and stuffed them in her pocket beside her MP3 player. “What’s up?”

  “What were you listening to?”

  “Today it’s Dutch.” Julia took a deep breath when her heart started racing again at Olivia’s obvious surprise. “I thought it might be nice to greet Inglenook’s guests in their native tongue, so I’ve been studying the basics of several of the major languages.” She gave a crooked smile. “Only the couple from Spain staying in Pine Tassel last week burst out laughing when I apparently told them that a dried shoe was the best thing for starting fires in the hearth.”

  “Wow, it’s obvious you’re determined to get that liaison position.” Olivia arched a brow. “I went looking for you at your apartment before coming here, because Bev told me Nicholas had called her to say you’d had a small accident.”

  Feeling her face heat up again, Julia turned away and started winding up the cord on her vacuum cleaner. “I . . . ah, I took a tumble down a hill while I was out looking for pinecones on the west side of Whisper this morning.” She stopped and smiled at her frowning boss. “And lucky me,” she said brightly, “Nicholas was out training with some of his men. He apparently saw me fall, then overreacted and called Beverly and told her I wouldn’t be in to work.” She held out her arms and let them drop to her sides. “But as you can see, I’m fine. As soon as I got home and took a shower, I ran up to housekeeping and told Bev I was back in business.”

  “It’s not like Nicholas to overreact.”

  Julia finished winding the cord with a snort. “The guy already thinks I’m a walking disaster, so he probably took one look at me covered in leaves and twigs and figured I’d broken my neck.” She straightened with another smile. “I’m fine, Olivia.”

  Looking more suspicious than convinced, Olivia motioned for Julia to follow her outside. “About that Inglenook job,” she said, making Julia’s heart start racing again as she followed, “have you considered that there might be other positions here at Nova Mare where speaking several languages would come in handy?” Olivia walked down the stairs, then sat one step up from the bottom and patted a spot beside her, turning toward Julia when she also sat down. “Is that what you really want to do? Make this resort your career?”

  Julia shook her head. “I hadn’t really thought in terms of having an actual career. I’m only focused on earning a comfortable living right now, and making sure Trisha gets to pursue her dream of becoming a marine biologist.”

  “But what if I were to offer you a really comfortable living,” Olivia said softly, “as my new event planner?”

  Julia stilled. “Are you serious?” she asked just as softly.

  Olivia gave a nod, then touched Julia’s knee when she started shaking her head again. “Hear what I have to say before you dismiss my offer out of hand.”

  “But I don’t know anything about planning events,” Julia said, cutting her off. “I can’t even throw a decent birthday party.”

  “Could I change your mind if I promised that you’d be mentored by a leading expert on throwing parties? Mac’s mom, Rana, has hosted everything from intimate state dinners to royal balls with hundreds of attendees, and she’s very kindly offered to share her secrets with you to get you started.”

  “But even with her help, you can’t expect me to plan events for rich and famous people and . . . and royalty,” Julia said on a gasp, remembering some of the elaborate weddings and private functions that had taken place here last summer. Good heavens, several had had fireworks, and one couple had released a hundred doves. Where did anyone find a hundred white doves, anyway? “How would I know what a princess or billionaire or rock star wants?” Julia growled.

  “You’ll know by asking,” Olivia growled back. “If you can make a young girl’s dream come true, you can do it for a princess or billionaire or rock star. But only if you stop thinking like the daughter of the town drunk, Julia,” she said softly, “and pursue your own dreams.”

  “But that’s just it; I don’t have dreams of grandeur because I am the daughter of the town drunk. I’m not like you, Olivia,” Julia whispered, shaking her head again. “In a million years, I couldn’t have conceived of building a resort like Nova Mare, much less running this place on a daily basis. You cater to the wealthiest people in the world.”

  Olivia leaned closer, the look in her eyes making Julia lean away. “Do you think I suddenly woke up one morning and decided to build a fancy resort on top of a mountain and cater to the rich and famous and royalty? Or that a foster kid from a three-car town down on the coast had dreams of grandeur?”

  “But—”

  “What I had,” Olivia said, cutting her off, “was the same determination you have to make a better life for the people I loved. For you it’s Trisha, where for me it was Sophie and Ezra. This,” she said, sweeping an arm to encompass the entire resort, “wasn’t even a spark in my imagination.” Olivia suddenly sighed, folding her hands on her lap and staring down at Bottomless. “But then I fell crazy in love with a man who only dreams big.” She looked over and smiled sadly. “If we limit ourselves to our circumstances, Julia, we become our own jailers. You’re a creative, energetic, intelligent person with the potential to be or do anything you want in life, and if I found the courage to build Nova Mare, you can find the courage to help me make it the best resort on the planet.” She patted Julia’s knee, then stood up and faced her. “Give me four months. And if you don’t find yourself addicted to making people’s wildest dreams come true, then you’re welcome to have your housekeeping job back.”

  “But what about the guest liaison position?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I’ll have filled it by then, because I need someone to be trained and in place by the first of May.”

  Julia scowled down at her lap, undecided if she wanted to scream or throw up. Taking this job and not liking it—or completely sucking at it—meant she’d lose out on the job she did want. She looked up. “Does the planner position come with housing?”

  Olivia’s jaw slackened, and she dropped her arms to her sides. “Julia,” she said on a strangled whisper. “With the salary I’ll be paying you, you can buy a house. Hell, you can build one right on the shoreline if you want.”

  Julia felt her own jaw go slack. Within a month of the earthquake turning Bottomless into an inland sea, shorefront property had shot out of sight, and today even a falling-down shack on a dot of land cost a small fortune.

  “If I’m charging exorbitant prices to fulfill people’s fantasies,” Olivia continued, her gleam returning, “then I have to pay outrageous salaries to hold on to the people making them happen—which I just recently learned the hard way, when some overpriced resort in Fiji stole my event planner right out from under my nose.” The gleam disappeared. “You remember the single guy who left you that three-hundred-dollar t
ip last week? Well, the sneaky little weasel was head-hunting. Besides stealing Evelyn, he also tried to nab Nicholas.”

  Julia went back to gaping, then snorted. “Is that the real reason you’re offering the position to me? Because you think a local will be less inclined to run off to Fiji?”

  “I did say you were intelligent,” Olivia drawled, even as she shook her head. “The fact that you can handle a Maine winter certainly doesn’t hurt, but your talent for sizing up guests and anticipating their needs even before they know them themselves was the main reason for my decision. You also have a gift for decorating, which will come in handy when you’re doing themed events.”

  “I do?”

  “Julia, your cottages are so warm and inviting in such an understated way, I’m tempted to have you decorate the Inglenook cabins, from the furniture right down to the dishes in the cupboards.” She took hold of Julia’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “Be my new event planner, Jules. I promise that if you learn the ropes with Rana over the winter, I’ll have to double your salary to keep you from being stolen right out from under my nose.” Olivia gave her hands a squeeze. “Expand your dream from a comfortable existence to a magical adventure. But don’t do it just because I’m desperate. And don’t do it for Trisha, either. You’ve been protecting your sister since your mom died, helping her become the fine young woman she is, but isn’t it time you showed her what the daughters of the town drunk can really do?”

  “When . . . when did you become so wise?”

  Olivia gave a laugh and pulled her into a hug. “When I started believing in the magic again,” she whispered against her hair. She leaned away to look Julia in the eyes and nodded. “It’s real, you know; as real as that inland sea down there and this mountain we’re standing on. Say yes, Julia, and Rana and I will show you how to make your own kind of magic.”