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

by Piñeiro, Caridad

  She lifted the glass of still-chilled champagne to her lips and let the bubbles ease the tightness in her throat. She was relying on her own powers exclusively now. And the loss of the land’s power was a blow she couldn’t accept. Oh, she could tap into it on occasion, but it was like a lover who’d already moved on. Very difficult to harness and not at all accommodating. And, Tilda clenched her fists, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.

  “Tilda, you’ll have everything ready, right?” Rob repeated. “I’ve concocted quite a cover for you, but the timing is key. We need to get the thorium to our plant before the beginning of the month.”

  Tilda turned to him and offered a chilly smile.

  “There’s nothing standing in the way of you picking up that thorium,” she assured him. She’d make sure of it. With a nod of her head, she finished the champagne, then picked up her pocketbook. A quick glance in the mirror assured her of perfect, and Tilda nodded her goodbye.

  As soon as the door was closed at her back, she sagged. Rossdale hadn’t caved like she’d planned and she was quickly running out of patience. And, obviously, time.

  Perhaps she needed to pay the erstwhile mayor a visit.

  With an empty smile and calculating look in her eye, Tilda snapped her fingers and vanished in an angry clap of thunder.

  To hell with whoever heard it. She was tired of playing it careful.

  A minute later, she stood inside the pitted and chipped door of room six-oh-eight. The sleazy motel smelled like week-old trash, forcing Tilda to breathe through her teeth. Damn Reggie Compton and his horrible taste.

  She gave a grimace of disgust at the sight of Reggie’s hairy, naked ass pumping in the air.

  Since it meant fewer idiotic mortal questions, Tilda made a show of shutting the door so it looked like she’d just come in through it.

  “Nice ass,” she told the man on the bed.

  He fumbled his shot home, leaving a mess all over the sheets and the pretty young thing beneath him. They both screamed, Reggie’s a pitch or so higher than the woman’s.

  Tilda snickered and while they scrambled to cover themselves with the thin sheets, she leaned against the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Damn it, Tilda,” the man yelped after he’d caught his breath. “How’d you get in here? How’d you find me? What right do you have to just barge in on a man when he’s with his...” he trailed off and shot her a fierce glare.

  Tilda squinted at the overblown redhead, trying to place her. The gold band glinting on her left ring finger nudged the memory in place.

  “I hadn’t realized this was a family affair,” she excused herself prettily.

  “It’s not... She’s not... We weren’t...”

  Tilda raised one elegant brow. Reggie’s sputters fizzled out.

  “I’m sorry. I must have mistaken this lovely lady for your brother’s wife. I do apologize... if I’m wrong.”

  The redhead caught her breath with a little squeak and, tugging the blanket from Reggie’s scrawny body, she wrapped it around herself in a jerky motion. In a quick move, she’d scurried out of the bed, scooped up her clothes, and crossed the threadbare carpet to the bathroom.

  Tilda waited silently, ignoring Reggie’s frustrated glare, as they listened to the woman mutter curses as she dressed.

  Two minutes later, she stomped out on teetering heels and grabbed her purse. Without looking at either of them, she continued her muttering as she slammed the door.

  “Stellar exit,” Tilda said with a nasty little laugh. “I’ll bet all that fire and drama are fabulous in bed. And at family gatherings, of course.”

  “What in the hell do you want?” Reggie snarled as he snagged his tighty-whities off the lampshade.

  “Does this mean you don’t want me?” she asked, fluttering her lashes to bring attention to her big blue eyes.

  “You and your shenanigans caused me no end of trouble,” he accused, pulling his slacks on over his spindly legs. “Now you have the nerve to show up here and ruin my... date.”

  “Why, Reggie, how could you say that?” She didn’t even bother to put any sincerity into her voice.

  “If you’d left things alone, left the town alone, things would have been fine. Nobody wanted to tilt the applecart, change the status quo. It didn’t matter how those naysayers whined, the rest of the town would have sat around on their complacent asses.”

  Reggie grabbed his shirt off the floor, shook it out then pulled it on. Between buttons, he shot her venomous glares. “But, no, you had to play games. Well, congratulations. You managed to do the one thing Gideon and Deloris Ross couldn’t. You got everyone to rally behind saving that damned town.”

  Tilda blinked, her nerve endings standing on end. She shook her head. He was just babbling. He had to be.

  “Oh, yeah. They are supporting this insane idea to start hosting fishing tournaments. Ross pulls this off, he’ll be shooting for the winter tourism next. Believe me, Rossdale is poised to be in better shape than it’s been in forty years.”

  “A fishing tournament?”

  “Oh, yeah. Fishing. As in on the water. Mage Lake, to be exact. You just paved the way to bring them right to your front door.”

  “You’ll have to stop it,” she demanded. Panicky fingers tried to take hold of her nerves, but Tilda was made of stronger stuff than that. She shoved aside the panic. She wasn’t about to lose. Especially not to Gideon, damn him.

  “I can’t stop it,” Reggie informed her through clenched teeth. He’d shoved his feet into his rubber soled old-man shoes and tied them with agitated fingers. “I’m not even involved in the planning of it.”

  “You’re the freaking mayor, aren’t you? Do something.”

  “Just what do you suggest?” he asked, his sneer echoing the sarcasm in his voice. “That I stomp into Gideon Ross’s house and demand he stop his plans to save the town?”

  She ground her teeth as her mind spun. Reggie reached for his suit jacket, but Tilda was leaning on it. With a sharp tug, he snagged it from under her, almost landing her flat on her ass in the process.

  “I’d think you’d have a better handle on exactly how your ex-husband operates, Tilda.” He pulled on his jacket, ran a hand over his mussed hair and opened the door.

  Reggie shot her a glance over his shoulder. For the first time since she’d seduced him into thinking he could be mayor if he helped her cause Lucas Ross’s fatal accident, his eyes gleamed with contempt.

  “You blew it,” he repeated. “Now you’re screwed. And believe me, you’re just not a good enough lay for me to be willing to go down with you.”

  There’s a New Witch in Town: Chapter Thirteen

  Miki bit back a scream of frustration as an avalanche of rose petals poured over her, mounding in a waist-high mountain. Their silky softness and rich scent enveloped her, tickling her nose and making her sneeze.

  “Damn it,” she snapped. Nothing was going right. Her magic, smooth as butter the day before, was rocky and unreliable again today.

  “I’ll bet Perry snuck out for a little lunchtime nookie again,” she muttered. Other than the karmic backlash, her magic seemed to be doing great. At first, she’d had to tap into the local energy. The strength of the mountain, the swirling waters of the nearby lake. The soft breeze or the warmth of the sun. But this last week, ever since she’d filled the crystal orb, she’d felt like she’d come into her own strength. She’d even conjured up a new porcelain coating on the rusted bathtub the previous day.

  But as long as Perry was involved, it didn’t look like her magic stood a chance. Home cooked meals, delivered right to his doorstep daily, didn’t seem to be enough incentive to keep his public displays of grossness in check. She had to find a way to reverse that curse. Miki’d had enough of him controlling her life while they were married, she’d be damned if she’d keep tolerating it now.

  Like wading through water, Miki kicked and pushed her way out of the pile of red rose petals she’d co
njured in an attempt to create a romantic atmosphere.

  Gideon was going to be here in two hours for their first romantic dinner together. His first time tasting her cooking, other than the odd sandwich here or there. She didn’t need wonky magic ruining things.

  Free of the roses, she turned to face the huge pile, debating her options. Miki rolled her eyes to the ceiling to keep the sudden rush of tears from falling. With a sigh, she dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged, and held her face in her hands.

  The cat, whom she still couldn’t bring herself to name, appeared and butted her head against Miki’s arm. Her pout firmly in place, she reached out to cuddle the soft feline.

  “Do you know how many times I’ve reached this point in my life, and just given up?” she asked the cat.

  From the meowed response, the cat had no idea.

  “This,” Miki gestured to the pile of roses, “is typically my breaking point. Proof that I’ve tried, I’ve given it my best shot. And I have. I’ve studied, I’ve trained. Ryan and Lena have both done all they can to teach me to harness my powers again. I haven’t had any inadvertent magical messes in at least a week.”

  She slumped over.

  “But I still don’t have it right.”

  The cat batted a rose petal, making it land in Miki’s lap. She picked it up and rubbed the velvety texture between her fingers. Its scent, rich and sweet, filled her senses.

  “It would be so easy to call for help. To admit failure. Or to ignore the signs by making as if it isn’t a big deal that I just denuded eight dozen rose bushes by mistake, and using the petals for some silly potpourri.”

  The cat, now kneading her front paws through the fragrant mountain, looked over her shoulder to meow.

  Miki shrugged in response.

  “I don’t know what to do. I know what I should’ve done. That’s not the same.” She shifted her gaze to stare out the window, as if she’d get inspiration from the mountain in the distance. “I knew I should’ve confronted Perry during our marriage, that I should have worked on things. But I was afraid to ask him, then find out he didn’t care enough to try. I knew I should have talked to my mother about my lack of talents, but I was afraid she’d send me to remedial training. That she’d say she was disappointed in me.”

  The mountain stood so solid out there in the distance. Green and lush with trees and spring growth, she wondered what it’d look like in the depths of winter. Still strong, even without its foliage and fluff.

  Miki pressed her lips tight and drew in a deep breath through her nostrils. One of these days, she’d have to stop hiding and face the consequences. Even if they turned out to be as bad as her worst imaginings.

  With a huff, she released her pent up breath and shoved herself to her feet. Swallowing her nerves, she raised both arms overhead, elbows bent and hands curved inward.

  “Mother, I need you,” she beseeched.

  Nothing.

  “Mother?”

  Still nothing.

  Miki bit back a growl and clenched her teeth. She tried to send her message out in larger waves, to put the need in her mind into an energy her mother would sense.

  Nothing except the purr of the cat as she rolled in the rose petals.

  “Damn it,” she exclaimed. She dropped her arms to her side and glared at the roses. With a narrow eyed look, she pointed, focusing her will.

  “Roses sweet by any name, return right now from whence you came.”

  This time, the cat’s meow was an angry growl as her paws hit hardwood. The once towering pile of roses was now a small handful, although the rich scent still filled the air.

  Miki gave a giddy laugh and scooped up her petals before the cat could damage them.

  “Well, what d’ya know, kitty. Maybe Perry only jacked-off in public, huh? Cause my power rebounded a lot faster this time.”

  Even though she knew she still had to deal with her problem, she also knew her mother had the equivalent of an energetic answering machine. The time for reckoning would arrive as soon as Alexis picked up her message. But for now, she had a romantic evening to prepare for.

  Gideon started to knock at Miki’s front door. Then he caught the faint flickering of light out of the corner of his eye. Curious, he shifted the bouquet of roses to his other hand and followed the light around the curve of the wrap-around porch. By the time he reached the back porch, his stomach was growling and a grin covered his face.

  “Damn,” he breathed.

  Miki had done things up nice. A small table, cozy enough for the two of them to easily hold hands over dinner, was set with crystal and china. White candles filled the space, hanging in pendants from the porch, set along the banister, even lining a path down the back steps to surround a stand-alone hammock out in the yard. A bottle chilled in the wine-bucket and the yeasty aroma of fresh bread mixed with the vanilla scent of the candles.

  “You like?”

  Gideon’s gaze sought Miki out. Once he found her, he lost his breath, and most of his mind. There in the shadows, she stood like a goddess of the night. Dressed in a tiny slip of black shimmery fabric, her skin glowed in the moonlight. Her eyes, so deep and mysterious, reflected the candles’ flames.

  “I think I love,” he murmured. Without question, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And, he realized as he watched her glide toward him, he’d been fooling himself to think he’d easily let her go.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she told him, her voice husky in the night air. “I got a little carried away. Instead of a salad, entrée, and dessert, we’re looking at a seven-course meal this evening.”

  Standing before him, she was even more beautiful. Gideon tossed the bouquet onto a nearby chair. Not able to stop himself, he reached out to tunnel both hands into the silky darkness of her hair.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. Just a taste, soft and gentle. Feeling her sigh against his mouth, he deepened the kiss slowly. Like a blind man feeling his way in the dark, Gideon took the final steps, carefully navigating an emotional labyrinth. As their tongues swirled together in perfect unison, he reached the center.

  And knew, without a doubt, he was falling in love with the woman in his arms.

  Shock ripped through his system as the realization took hold. Gideon pulled back, staring down into Miki’s questioning eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Nothing. Being in love didn’t mean the end of the world. It meant... what? Gideon tried to calm his panicked heartbeat and willed the tension to leave his shoulders. He had to get over his past.

  Falling in love was a good thing. Falling in love with a woman as wonderful, as normal, as Miki, that was a great thing. He just needed a little time to get used to it, and decide if he was going to continue to fall, or bail before it got too ugly. Once he’d figured it out, maybe then he’d share his discovery.

  Shoving down his nerves, he forced a grin and gave her a quick kiss, then wiggled his brows. “Food smells great. What’re you feeding me?”

  Twenty minutes later, his stomach, at least, was definitely comfortable worshiping the food she’d served.

  “Damn, Mikaela, you are one excellent cook,” he said around a mouthful of some exotically spiced potato. “I’ve never eaten anything this deceptively delicious.”

  “Deceptive?” She laughed and tilted her head, the candlelight glowing orange against the pitch-black waves. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

  “I mean it in a good way,” he insisted. “You’ve got this simple looking meal that tastes like an exotic feast. Meat,” he pointed his fork at the steak, so tender it would flake apart with a puff of air.

  “Potatoes,” he forked up another bite of the spicy vegetable mixture. “And that salad. Where did you find pomegranates this time of year?”

  “Trade secret,” she laughed. Then, after a quick sip of wine, she nodded to his plate. “I tried to keep the meal centered around foods you’d be familiar with, but gave them a twis
t. You know, in case you weren’t into trying anything too exotic.”

  He forked up another bite of steak and winked at her. “Sweetheart, you can make me anything you want and I’d be happy to eat it. I haven’t had food this good in... Well, I can’t remember if I’ve ever actually had food this good.”

  Her blush was lovely in the candlelight. He’d have thought a chef owning her own catering company would be used to compliments on her cooking, but her response was refreshingly sweet.

  “What kind of work do you think you’ll be looking for?” he asked with deceptive casualness. “You know, after the house is finished and all that?”

  “Something to do with cooking. It’s what I’m good at. I’m not sure about catering again, although I loved the variety of it. But I’m not so great with the business angle, just the cooking angle.”

  “What about cooking in a restaurant or, maybe, something like a hotel?” Or a lodge.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. Things like that have a set menu, someone else calling the shots. I guess that’d be the obvious alternative, but after so many years of creative reign, it will be hard to shift gears.”

  “What if you didn’t have to?”

  “Didn’t have to take orders?” Miki gave an incredulous laugh. “Unless I got on somewhere as head chef, that’s not possible. And even if I managed to work my way up to head chef, I’d still have to answer to management.”

  “It’d be pretty cool if you got into a place where management trusted you totally, gave you free reign.” Not that he’d ever imagine anyone having total free reign. But almost free? It was worth considering. After all, if this tournament launched tourism the way he hoped, having an eclectic chef on board at the Lodge would be one helluva benefit.

  “Sure, and having one of my trees bloom hundred dollar bills would be cool too. Not likely, but both would definitely rock,” Miki said with a laugh.