by Lori Foster
“And you screamed.” He looked at her, his injured eye swollen almost closed. “I never thought to hear such a female sound from you.”
That gave her pause, but she shook the discomfort off. “You weren’t even looking. I thought he was going to split your head open.”
Harry grunted. “I kicked it out of his hand. The fellow was a totally pathetic fighter, slow and inept, and I’ll thank you to have a little more faith in me, if you please.”
Charlie sank back on her heels, nonplussed. He was actually insulted that she’d worried for him? “You, ah, handled that very well.”
“You didn’t.” Without looking at her, he began the same tedious drive in and out of side streets, making it difficult for anyone to follow, though he didn’t seem overly concerned with the prospect. “I think I could be happy if even once you’d follow my instructions. What were you waiting for? For him to open the car window with the pipe he tried to use on my head? What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?”
“I don’t know. But it was dumb of you to tell me to leave without you. I’d never do that.”
In a burst of temper, Harry hit the steering wheel with a fist. “This is exactly why you should have kept your stubborn hide at home instead of dogging my heels!”
His tone was vicious, not loud, yet twice as intimidating for the low tone. Charlie swallowed, more hurt than alarmed by his anger. Guilt gnawed at her because she knew he had a valid point. He’d obviously had everything under control, but for the first time in her life, she’d panicked. The realization was so new, so alien, she couldn’t quite fathom it.
Of all the stupid things, she’d fallen in love with Harry Lonnigan.
“That was one of Carlyle’s henchmen, you know. He’ll tell him we were there. If you hadn’t blundered, I could have looked my fill with no one the wiser. But now, they know we know where they’re at, and odds are they’ll move. Tracking the idiots will be twice as difficult after this!”
She had no idea what to say. They’d been through a lot together already, and not once had Harry sounded so fed up, or so disgusted with her. Slowly, she sank into her seat and relatched her seat belt. She stared out the window, hoping to collect her thoughts enough to offer an excuse, a reply of some kind. But how could she tell him that she cared, that she was worried about him? Obviously the man was big enough, tough enough, to take care of himself without her questionable assistance, so she surely couldn’t use that excuse. And mentioning love, or any type of emotion, was out of the question. Harry had been very clear on his feelings for her. He didn’t even want her anymore and did his best to fight her off. She was such an uncouth yokel compared to his sophistication and background. She hadn’t thought of it before, but now she had no choice.
The ride home was made in painful silence. Several times Charlie glanced at him, wincing in sympathy over his swollen, bruised eye. But the mulish set to his mouth, the hard glitter in his eyes, kept her from commenting on it.
After Harry had turned the car off in the parking garage he drew a deep breath and faced her. “Where’s your truck?”
She shrugged, doing her best to look cavalier. “I parked on the street.”
“Charlie… ”
That sympathetic tone of his made her spine stiffen. She didn’t want his pity, especially when he refused to share anything else.
Various emotions seemed to bombard her, wearing her down, but she was made of pretty stern stuff, not one to wilt when things went sour. So she wanted him? It was in her nature to fight for what she wanted, but this situation was different, wanting a man. She knew he desired her, and that had strengthened her resolve, but it was also obvious he didn’t want to desire her, and she could understand his reasonings very easily.
Pride forced her to give in graciously, to salvage what she could of her self-respect. She worked up an icy smile, then opened her car door before looking at him. “I’ve decided to let you off the hook.”
The swelling black eye seemed obscene on his handsome face. He didn’t move, just sat there staring at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I won’t pester you anymore. I’ve decided to quit playing spy and get back to my own business. The bar doesn’t run itself and I’ve neglected it these last few days. If you want to send me a bill for what I owe you—”
His good eye narrowed, giving her pause.
“—for the info on my father, I mean. I’ll get the money to you right away.”
“I haven’t finished telling you what I know of your father.”
Though she wasn’t a coward, had never been a coward, she wanted to leap out of the car and run away. „ She didn’t want to continue sitting there, chatting like everything was fine when she’d just had the most astounding realization of her life. There were very few people she’d ever loved, and other than Jill, they’d all been mistakes. She hated to think of Harry that way.
“That’s all right. You said he hadn’t completely abandoned us, so I’m assuming he’ll pay what he owes. That’s all I really need to know. I can have a lawyer contact him. Or maybe I’ll just send him a letter… ”
Harry reached for her and she slid quickly out of the car, dodging him. If he touched her, she’d want to touch him back, and she was determined not to make a bigger fool of herself. “Thanks for the help, Harry. I can handle it from here.”
He, too, left the car and slowly stood to face her. The slamming of his door echoed around the empty garage. She closed hers more carefully. When Harry started around the car toward her, she began back-stepping to the entrance. She tried an airy wave. “It’s been… fun.”
His growl reminded her of a rabid animal. He kept coming, his narrowed eyes looking more lethal than ever with the dark bruise and the swelling. He was large and imposing and somehow all his sophistication seemed to have melted away under his basic masculinity. “You’re coming inside with me.”
Her spine stiffened. “No thanks. I need to get going.”
“I’m not asking, Charlie. I’m giving an explicit mandate. We have things to talk about, and I’m fed up with your unaccountable stubbornness and scurrility.”
“I don’t even know what that word means, Harry.” He looked like he might lunge at her any minute, so she kept backing up. Unfortunately she didn’t look behind her, and she fetched up against a concrete wall, clunking her head. “Ow.”
While she rubbed her head, he closed in on her, using his long muscled arms to cage her in, stepping so close she could feel his warmth and breathe in his hot scent. He stared at her face, at her eyes and her mouth. She felt the gentle touch of his breath, and the blast of his temper, in sharp contrast.
“It means,” he said succinctly, “that cutting wit of yours which you dispense with no thought to consequences and without evident remorse.”
She forgot she wanted away from him, or even that her head hurt. Her own temper snapped and she leaned closer to taunt, “Oh, poor baby. Have I said something to hurt your feelings?”
His jaw worked. They were so close her nose bumped his chin. Then he took her arm in an unbreakable grip, stepped back, and headed for the town house. She got dragged in his wake. “No, but I do believe you prodded me into hurting yours. And for that, I’m sorry.”
“What nonsense! I don’t need an apology from you. Really… Harry, let me go!”
“No.”
He tugged and pulled and coerced her along until they reached his door. Losing a fight really went against the grain, so she doubled her efforts. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she was at a distinct disadvantage. She tried going limp, hoping her weight would throw him off-guard, but he managed to control her by the expedient method of wrapping one arm around her and lifting her off her feet. Mortified, Charlie went perfectly still.
He unlocked the door with his free hand and stepped inside to the sounds of excited barking. With a laugh, Harry released her to relock the door, and Charlie, seeing red, gave up on trying to get away from
him. Instead, she launched her own attack. She took Harry off-guard and he stumbled and with the dogs flying around their feet and Ted screeching out a raucous complaint, they went down on the floor, hard.
Unfortunately, Charlie was on the bottom.
Harry dodged a tight fist aimed for his bruised eye. He’d expected no less of Charlie, especially since he was well aware of her more bloodthirsty tendencies. But for a moment there, she’d seemed too withdrawn, almost sad, and the thought that he might have hurt her feelings with his temper had been a squeezing pain in his heart. When he’d seen that thug leaning on the Jag, talking to her… He never wanted to feel that possessive, that protective or enraged again.
She swung at him again, demanding his immediate attention. Laughing, he captured her hands and pinned them over her head. The dogs were going crazy, taking the struggle as a free-for-all game. Sooner jumped close enough to stick a wet snout in Harry’s ear, then dodged away again, howling maniacally. Charlie got a gleeful lap across the temple from Grace, and she struggled even more, cursing Harry and faying to discourage the dogs.
Her wriggling body had a very basic effect on him. He looked down at her, seeing the way her short, glossy black hair tumbled around her head, the way her cheeks flushed with her efforts. She lurched up against him, her head thrown back, her teeth catching her bottom lip, and he nearly groaned. Damn, she looked like a woman in the throes of a climax.
Her legs were caught under his and she tried to kick one free. Harry used his knee to spread her thighs, then settled between them. This time when she lunged upward, there was no way she could mistake his state of arousal. He had a throbbing erection and she froze.
The dogs moved in, taking advantage of the inactivity, whining and barking and nudging the humans. Harry barely noticed. Charlie had opened her eyes and locked her gaze on his, and the emotional connection was so strong, so powerful compared to anything he’d ever felt, he couldn’t move. It was like he was inside her already.
She gasped for breath and he raised himself slightly, not enough to let her get away, but enough so she could breathe. She immediately lifted herself to press against him again. She could drive him crazy, he thought, even as he settled his hips against hers, giving in to her silent demand. His pulse raced, his muscles drawing tight. It felt so right to be with her like this.
Her knees bent, and she slowly moved her pelvis against his in an unpracticed, voluptuous sway. Mesmerized, he watched her face, saw the trembling in her lips as she drew in a shaky breath, saw her beautiful blue eyes darken, saw her skin heat.
Sooner howled again and without looking away, Harry commanded, “Go lie down.” The dogs complained, but they finally obeyed.
Charlie tried to pull her hands free, but he held tight. “No you don’t. I like you like this,” he whispered. “You need just a little controlling, someone to keep you in line.”
Though her eyes were heavy lidded and filled with sensual need, she lifted her chin. “You have to let me up sometime.”
As far as threats went, it held no weight. Harry leaned down and nuzzled the soft skin beneath that raised chin. “Who says?”
Her eyes drifted shut and she hooked her feet behind his thighs. “You feel so good, Harry. Will you make love to me now?”
Everything righted itself in that instant and his brain cleared. With a vicious curse he released her and sat up. She didn’t. She remained sprawled on the floor beside him, offering the most delectable temptation man could imagine. He tried not to look at her, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she whispered.
He ran a hand through his hair. “How do you keep doing this to me?”
“I didn’t do anything except try to let you off the hook. You’re the one who dragged me in here.”
After a calming breath, he forced himself to say, “I don’t want off the hook. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“All things considered, I’d kinda forgotten all about that.”
He looked at her, lying there so sweet and submissive—surely a first for Charlie—and his muscles cramped in rebellion of what he knew he had to do. “Honey, this is all wrong. I brought you up here to talk about your father, not to…ravish you on the damn floor.”
“I rather liked being ravished on the floor.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, she was so persistent and candid and honest. There wasn’t a single ounce of guile in her expression, and the fact that she was as free, as unreservedly sexual as himself, made him crazy. She hadn’t minded their rough play in the least, and wasn’t offended at being debauched on a floor. She would be his sexual equal, and knowing it made his arousal even more keen.
But she was Dalton’s daughter, and Dalton would be appalled to know just how low Harry had sunk.
He stood, caught her arms, and pulled her to her feet. She stared up at him and he cupped her face. “Tell me you’ll at least give your father a chance, okay?”
To his surprise, she seemed to be considering it. “Why is it so important to you, Harry?”
With complete and utter honesty, he said, “Because I think he’s a good man and he loves you. I think he deserves a chance to tell his side of the story. And because I was never able to connect with my own father. It’s something that bothers me still, something that every so often vexes me because now the man is gone and more often than not I don’t even mourn him. I don’t want you to ever suffer that, to wonder if only you’d softened a bit you could have had a wonderful relationship. For Jill’s sake, for all it will mean to her, why don’t you at least try?”
Harry held his breath, praying she’d relent. With any luck at all, Dalton would be getting out of the hospital today. Harry didn’t want him under unnecessary stress, and he knew Dalton would stew endlessly about the situation until he was reunited with his daughters. If Charlie would agree, it could be taken care of within a week. That would give her time to prepare and give Dalton time to rebuild his strength.
Also, Harry’s control was almost at an end. For his own sanity, he had to tie up loose ends so he could distance himself from her before he made a mistake he’d live to regret. Dalton deserved his loyalty, and Charlie deserved a man who would love her forever.
Unfortunately, the thought of her with another man made his system revolt, so he quickly shoved that thought aside.
Harry had no idea which part of his discourse convinced her, but after several moments of deep thought, she nodded. “All right.” She hesitated, then stepped close and embraced him. “Will you… go with me?”
Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, too tight, judging by her laughing, mumbled complaint. He didn’t understand the near desperate urge to hold her, but he knew her embrace hadn’t been designed to seduce him this time. Rather, it was the need for emotional comfort, and it touched him to his very soul. She willingly showed him her vulnerable side, something she normally kept well hidden, and he’d never felt so gifted in his entire life.
Though he knew it would be incredibly awkward, he kissed her temple and nodded. “Of course I’ll be there.”
She leaned back with a relieved smile. “When?”
He couldn’t make her any promises until he found out how Dalton had fared. He’d called the hospital when he first got up, and the nurse had told him all seemed well. Dalton had been in high spirits, anxious to know what Harry had planned—a tale Harry related with precise discretion, leaving out any reference that might upset Dalton. He hadn’t spoken to him again since the doctor’s visit, and now he was anxious to do so. He led Charlie to the door, though he was equally reluctant to let her go.
With a last kiss on her forehead, which was a habit he desperately needed to break, he said, “Try not to worry, honey. I’ll arrange everything as soon as I can, and then I’ll let you know.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes big and soft and filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Harry. I know it’s stupid, and if you ever tell anyone I’
ll deny it, but it’s kind of a relief that I don’t have to do this alone. I owe you.”
As she left, his guilt doubled until it nearly consumed him. Damn it, what would she think when she found out he’d known Dalton all along? Would she understand? Or would she likely feel betrayed by the one person she’d started to trust? The worry gnawed at him, making him angry with regret, until the phone rang.
It was Dalton, and he was ready to come home.
Bewitched
CHAPTER NINE
************************************************************************************************
The second Harry stepped through the barroom doorway, he could tell Charlie was nervous. He’d spent the past week with her, and her mannerisms and mood were very familiar to him now. He picked up on the small frown, the way she repeatedly swallowed. She was behind the thick, scarred wooden bar, a clipboard clutched tightly in her hand, taking some kind of inventory. Beside him, Dalton looked around in horrified disbelief.
“My God. She can’t actually work here?”
Pulling his gaze from Charlie, Harry said, “She does, and she manages quite credibly. I don’t think it’s been easy for her, but she’s the type of woman who once she sets her mind on something, it gets accomplished one way or another.” Harry knew there was a wealth of pride in his tone, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He was proud, and he wanted Dalton to be, too.
The bar wasn’t yet open. Charlie had insisted they meet there, partly, Harry assumed, because she felt it gave her an advantage to be on her own territory and in familiar surroundings. She wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, but she was very uncertain about meeting her father.
Her insecurity, and the need to hide it, endeared her to Harry all the more. He smiled toward her, though Charlie was still unaware of them. They were early, but keeping Dalton away any longer had proved impossible.
Harry had convinced Dalton to wait a week, to give himself plenty of time to recover. He refused to let Harry tell Charlie about his heart attack, so there was no telling how Charlie would react during the meeting, but Harry thought it a safe bet she’d be antagonistic and stubborn. She had a lot of past grievances to get through before she’d be able to fully accept Dalton.
