Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers

by Piñeiro, Caridad

  Gideon knew he had to look like an idiot standing there, hands at his side and his mouth gaping open, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “Why the hell would you think that?”

  She winced at his tone, the anger draining from her face. In its place was a sad sort of resignation.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “You had plenty of reason to snap at me,” Gideon corrected. “I was pushing you. Flirting when I shouldn’t have. I was out of line on a lot of levels.”

  Miki gave him an abashed look and a shouldered shrug. “I wouldn’t say you were out of line. I just don’t know where you were coming from. Why the flirting? You were all business up until five minutes ago.”

  “Only by grace of my handy clipboard.”

  She scrunched her face in question. Gideon held the clipboard up at shoulder level so she saw it, then swung it down in front of his zipper.

  Miki stared for two seconds, then her mouth made an O. Her gaze met his again and, to his delight, she giggled.

  “Big clipboard you’ve got there.”

  “Oh, yeah. The biggest they had in the store,” he assured her.

  “I had no idea.”

  “You’re kidding, right? How could a woman as hot as you not catch the obvious clues? Big clipboard aside, the fact that I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you had to give you some idea of my interest.”

  Gideon tossed the clipboard on the counter, the loud clap of the wood hitting tile making Miki jump. She licked her lips and glanced back at him. The temptation of that sweet pink tongue was almost more than he could stand. Gideon’s reasons for leaving Miki alone hadn’t changed. She was still on the rebound from a lousy marriage. She wasn’t the quick and easy type. She was vulnerable as hell, twice as sweet as a summer peach, and the worst thing he needed in his life.

  If he were smart, he’d apologize again, grab his oversized clipboard, and hightail it out of there.

  Instead, he took two steps forward, right back in her space and watched her midnight eyes grow even larger. Gideon felt like he was looking into a pitch-black night. Dark, fathomless, and filled with endless possibilities.

  “I’m bad for you,” he told her.

  “Worse than you could even imagine,” she agreed.

  “It’d be stupid to get involved. Even if you weren’t planning to leave as soon as you get your life figured out and this house fixed, I’m not the relationship type.”

  “You don’t do relationships at all?” she asked. Curiosity lit her eyes.

  “Not since my divorce six years ago.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  He grinned, and unable to help himself, curled his fingers into her hair. “I haven’t been saving myself, if that’s what you mean.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I guess there isn’t a large dating pool in a town this size?”

  “Not that you’d care to dip your... toes into, no.” He shrugged. Gideon combed his fingers free of her hair and tortured himself by trailing his hand over her shoulder. She felt like silk, so smooth and soft. His ego, among other parts, swelled at the soft shudder she gave when he rubbed a finger over her collarbone.

  “I’m going to be honest, Miki. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day you moved in. I haven’t stopped tasting you since that kiss in the Town Square.”

  “Don’t say things because you think it’s what I want to hear, Gideon. The last thing I need is a pat on the head and a line of bullshit.”

  That surprised a laugh out of him. Not much for pussyfooting around, was she? She was blunt honesty wrapped around sweet vulnerability. Such an intriguing combination.

  “Believe me, I’m not bullshitting when I say there’s nothing I’d love more than to lay you out on that table over there and nibble my way up your body.”

  She sucked in a swift breath. Gideon watched her breasts rise beneath that filmy top and all he could think of was how they’d look naked. He trailed his index finger over her shoulder again and down the inside of her arm until he reached the crook of her elbow. Then, just to drive himself crazy, he trailed his finger back up, bare millimeters away from her breast.

  “But as hard as it might be to believe from my behavior so far, my momma did raise me to be a gentleman. And taking advantage of a beautiful lady when she’s hurting is not something I’m gonna do.”

  Miki pressed her lips together, those huge eyes of hers swimming in emotion. Somewhere in the back of his head, Gideon heard warning sirens. But he was so lost in the sweet look on her face, it was easy to ignore them.

  “Maybe I should be looking for another contractor to do the work here,” she mused aloud. From the frown curving her brow, she didn’t like the idea any better than Gideon did, though.

  “Nah. I’m a big boy. I can behave myself. I just...” he sucked in a breath and shook his head. “I just have to have one last taste. Then I’ll settle back into the client/contractor relationship. Maybe even friends.”

  Watching her face for any sign of hesitation, he slowly lowered his head. A breath away from her mouth, he whispered, “Just one taste, and we’ll consider each other off limits.”

  “Just one more,” she murmured against his lips.

  Gideon sank into the delicious depths of her mouth. Keeping the kiss soft, almost gentle, he used his lips and tongue to hint at the passion he felt.

  With a soft moan of delight, Miki took that final step, clearing that one-inch between them and putting Gideon’s sanity into severe jeopardy. Keeping a tight grip on his control, he promised himself just one minute to absorb the feel of her. The delicious pressure of her breasts against his chest, her stomach pressed lightly to his straining flesh.

  Then she moved, a soft foray of her tongue into his mouth, and he was lost.

  Gideon lifted both hands to plunge them into her hair. Just before he did, fire sliced into his calf.

  “What the hell,” he yelped, letting loose of Miki and jumping back.

  “What?” she gasped through swollen lips. Two quick blinks cleared the languorous glaze from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  Pain ripping through his leg, he twisted to see. Attached to his calf by razor-sharp claws was a green-eyed monster with fur. Gideon swore he saw hate in the depths of those slitted eyes.

  “Oh no,” Miki yelped.

  He shook his leg and the cat bared its teeth. Damned thing wouldn’t shake loose. He didn’t dare reach down to throw it off. No way he wanted his face within swiping distance of those lethal claws.

  “This yours?” he asked Miki through gritted teeth. It was probably a good idea to find out before he kicked the furball across the room.

  “Not mine,” she said, scurrying out of his arms to try and distract the cat with his clipboard. It didn’t work. “It just showed up before you did. I’d never seen it before.”

  Gideon shook his leg again and winced when the cat bared its teeth.

  “Cats don’t live in Rossdale, remember?”

  “Maybe it’s just wandering through,” she said with a shrug. Before he could stop her, she leaned down and rubbed her thumb and fingers together, making a tutting sound.

  After one last flex of its claws, the cat gave a hiss, then released Gideon’s calf. Nice as you please, it stuck its tail in the air and sauntered over to Miki. A quick rub of its head against her outstretched hand and the cat started to purr.

  “How sweet,” she exclaimed.

  “Sweet? That damned thing just about shish-kabobbed me.” Gideon refrained from tugging up his pant leg to see if he was bleeding. After all, the sticky wetness dripping in his sock was a good enough indicator.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean to,” Miki assured him as she rose, the cat in her arms.

  He took a step back as the cat swung its fluffy black head toward him to glare. Only an idiot would believe a cat could radiate malevolence. Even so, he swore that’s what he saw shooting out of those green eyes. Gideon
bared his teeth back at it. The cat flipped its tail in a universal symbol, then turned its face into Miki’s chin to snuggle her.

  “I think it likes me,” she exclaimed.

  Gideon just grunted.

  “Where do you think it came from?”

  “No clue,” he said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said there are no cats in Rossdale. Don’t get too attached to it. It’ll be gone in a day, two at the most. They always are.”

  Her sound of protest made him feel like a jerk. His apparent theme of the day. Before he could say anything more rude, or worse, toss the cat out the window and Miki on that table like he’d wanted, Gideon reached for his clipboard.

  He caught Miki’s snicker and grinned, unabashed.

  “What can I say? You are one sweet temptation.”

  At the cat’s hiss, he glared.

  “I’m gonna head out. I’ll work up these figures and have the bid to you within a few days.”

  “Thanks,” she said softly. The look in her eyes told him she was grateful for a lot more than his kisses and work-potential. Damning his gentlemanly upbringing, Gideon just shrugged.

  “Don’t get attached to that thing,” he repeated on his way to the door. Gideon stopped on the front porch and looked back at Miki. It was like looking at the tempting princess guarded by her fierce dragon. Damned if he didn’t want to find a sword and skewer the thing.

  “Some things are as sure as the rising sun in Rossdale. Felines hate it for some reason. You’re better off not letting yourself get emotionally attached.”

  With a small nod, he turned and walked away. Don’t get emotionally attached. Good advice. After all, it wasn’t just cats that didn’t belong in Rossdale. The same warning could be applied to sexy women with vulnerable midnight eyes.

  There’s a New Witch in Town: Chapter Eight

  Tilda stood at the edge of Main Street, her arms raised to the dark, moonless sky, and shuddered in ecstasy as a surge of elemental power moved through her.

  She hadn’t set foot in Rossdale proper in years. She’d forgotten the feel of its energy. Stupid Rosalee Wenton, bequeathing her power to a town. What a waste.

  As before, Tilda would gain because of Rossdale’s cluelessness. And she prided herself in her ability to take any gain, however small, and wring it for all it was worth.

  She closed her eyes, breathed deep the cool, night air and focused on the power coiled in her belly. A flick of her upraised wrists was all it took to send that dark power outward. A dusky bubble enveloped her. Slowly lowering her arms, hands pressed outward, she expanded the bubble to include the man at her side, then the small group of people behind her.

  “Invisibility is ours,” she proclaimed when her fingers rested at her hips. “Go ahead, show these people what happens when they threaten us.”

  To rile the select cultists to do her bidding, Tilda had told them the townspeople were out to get them, to take away their lake and with it, their powers and ability to create gold.

  As always, her lies had worked well.

  At the wave of her hand, the air rushed as the people surged around her until only Antonio remained at her side. Together, they watched the Lights of Atlantis, shrouded in a magical mist, scurry down the wooden walkways like termites. Paint sprayed, glass broke, and all manner of nasty dead creatures were hung over each door.

  “Are you sure we need to do this?” Antonio asked with a wince as two men hefted a wooden, flower-filled wine cask and tossed it into the middle of the street. The contents flew every which way at the impact. “I’m unclear how vandalism will help our plan.”

  Tilda kicked away the clump of dirt that landed at her feet, then knelt to retrieve a muddied rose from the debris.

  “This town is already dead,” she informed her lover. Holding out the flower, she sneered. “Look, plastic. They can’t even grow anything now. It’s time these losers realized the game is over. They need to pack up and leave. Or,” she closed her hand over the yellow plastic flower, then opened it again to show the pile of ash now covering her palm, “they need to be destroyed.”

  She flicked the ash from her fingers and shrugged.

  “Look at it this way, my love. We’re giving them a chance to start over instead. I consider that most generous.”

  And a damned waste of time. But he’d been such a pansy boy, whining in fear over her plans, that she’d had to modify them. After all, his little sheep still thought he was the power behind Atlantis, and she needed them to do the actual work.

  “I don’t like it,” he muttered with a bad-tempered shrug. “This is going to get messy, Tilda. You’re going to ruin everything with your need for revenge.”

  She gave a little start, quickly hidden. Forcing a tinkling laugh, she tilted her head in question. “What on earth do you mean? I’m securing our future, Antonio. You know we need to bring the trucks through, to empty this town if we’re to sell the thorium.”

  “If you can hide a dozen grown men while they vandalize the homes and businesses of the townspeople right under their noses, surely you can hide a big rig truck as it passes on the highway.”

  Tilda clenched her jaw to hold the serene expression on her face. Anger churned in her gut and her fingers twitched to zap him with a slap of energy. How dare he question her?

  “It’d take a different kind of magic,” she lied. “A few men in a small space aren’t much work, but a transport truck that size? That would take coven magic, not the work of a single witch. Of course, maybe you’re strong enough to hide it?”

  Tilda ignored his sputtered excuses and surveyed the destruction down the street. Although this would irritate the good citizens of Rossdale, it wouldn’t likely push the diehards who’d lasted this long into leaving. But it would be much harder to implement the next step of her plan for the town’s destruction if Antonio was being difficult. Perhaps it was time to cut her losses. She turned back to eye the man next to her.

  “You’re with me or against me, Antonio,” she said in a low voice. “The time has come for changes. You will accept them, or you won’t. But no matter what, I will have my way.”

  He towered over her, flexing his muscles. The frown on his face might have intimidated his sheep, but all it did for Tilda was tighten her nipples.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Darling, I don’t make threats. You should know that by now.” Tilda smoothed her palm over the warm skin on his chest, left bare by his unbuttoned linen shirt. “I do make promises though. And I promise you, Rossdale will be mine. Either we’ll both relish the delicious pleasure of not only the riches to come, but of each other as we explore the ultimate power awaiting us.”

  Tilda leaned close, her fingers digging into his bare chest, and traced her tongue along his collarbone, lapping up the salty flavor of his flesh.

  “Or,” she said as she stepped back and dropped her hand, “you’ll be left in the dust, much like the dirt we’re currently standing on.”

  Antonio set his jaw. “I’m not afraid of you, Tilda. You might have a certain degree of power, but I have a great deal more.”

  She gave a sneering sort of laugh and ran her fingers through her silken hair, loving the feel of it falling back to her shoulders.

  “My power is no little thing, unlike whatever you might think you have,” she told him, dismissing his attempt at bravado.

  An intent look on his face, Antonio leaned down until they were nose to nose.

  “What I have is information. Quite a bit, as a matter of fact. You turn me to dust, Tilda, and you’ll be exposed to the one man you’re hiding from. I have the power to stop you in your tracks.”

  Tilda swallowed to wet her throat. Then she swallowed again. He had to be bluffing. But, her glance darted down Main Street, what if he wasn’t?

  “Don’t take me for a fool,” he warned. Large hands gripped her arms, lifting her as he rose to his full height. “Your little obsession suited me as long as there was something to be gained. But you’re working to
ward ruining what I’ve worked long and hard for. I won’t be left with nothing.”

  A shudder of sexual awareness rippled through her. Needing to buy time to consider his threat, and how she’d deal with it, she used the awareness to her advantage. Putting on a show of shrugging his hands off her arms, she curled her own around his neck. Pressing her hardened nipples against his chest, she rubbed herself in slow, undulating circles. His eyes darkened and she hid her triumphant smile by pressing her lips to his.

  “We both want the same thing,” she claimed when she released his mouth. “Together we will have it. Power, riches, and more.”

  “As long as you realize this is an equal footing, Tilda. Don’t think you can make threats without repercussions. My people won’t follow you, no matter what you might think. And if something happens to me, well... let’s just say you won’t enjoy the results.”

  Triumph turned to simmering anger, but Tilda was careful to keep her face smooth and her breasts pushed against him.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” she lied. Then she made a show of glancing down the street and gave a nod of her chin. “You should direct your people, Antonio. I’m sure you don’t want them getting carried away.”

  With a warning look, he sauntered down the street. She watched, jaw clenched, as the termites swarmed to him like rats to the piper. She’d have to do something about that. But not tonight.

  Tilda forced herself to release the anger and focus on the land, the energy flowing beneath her feet. She hadn’t set foot in this town in six years, and as strong as the energy was, it was barely worth the fury stirred up by her memories of it.

  Damn Gideon for hauling her here to this rinky-dink joke of a place. For thinking this would suit her, that she’d be content to waste away here in Nowhereville. The only saving grace was the vein of magic tied to the land. And once she’d realized she could tap into that without putting up with being smothered by the rest, she’d left.

  And Gideon had refused to leave with her. With the combined strength of her powers, the magic of the prophecy, and Gideon at her side, they could have done anything. The key was Gideon though. Oh, she’d tried other founding descendants. But it didn’t work. Either the prophecy was only half-true, or she needed the love of Gideon Ross to avail herself of its full power.