Charmed & Dangerous (14 page)

I put them in the other two guest rooms and climbed into my bed. What the hell is the sheik thinking? Stupid man. And why am I so damn happy to see him? I hate this. Really I do.

Thursday, 11
A.M
.

Sweet, Texas

Houseguests: 2

Frustrated witches: 1

I
t’s my fault. I know it. When I sat with those witches sharing tea the other day I thought of the sheik and I accidentally brought him here through telepathy. Now I can’t get rid of him.

When I went downstairs to fix breakfast I found Maridad in the kitchen hovering over the coffeepot waiting for it to fill. Someone was addicted to caffeine. I can relate, but my poison is Diet Coke.

The place smelled of paint, with the warm aroma of rich toasted beans mixed in. With the sun streaming in, the golden walls made the room even more beautiful than I had imagined. I had to thank my crew from last night again for their hard work.

“Good morning,” I said to Maridad as I pulled out the eggs from the fridge. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Coffee and toast are all I need, thank you.” Even at eight in the morning she had that formal clipped tone. Not rude, but efficient. I wondered if she ever let her guard down. “But I’m certain Sheik Azir would enjoy a full breakfast. He’s out in your conservatory looking over the plants.”

Grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge and poured Azir a cup of coffee. Sighed as I watched him through the French doors. Such a gorgeous man.

I had a feeling he’d been lying to me last night and a call to the hangar this morning confirmed my suspicions. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with his jet.

“Sheik, please don’t touch that.” I stepped through the doors.

He had been reaching up for a vine and pulled his hand back.

“That’s nightshade, also known as belladonna. Too much of it can kill you, just by touching the flowers.” I handed him the oversized cup and he sipped cautiously.

Even in the conservatory the air was cool, and the smell of damp earth mixed with the perfume from the flowers overloaded the senses. I love it.

“Do you have many deadly plants in your garden?” His right eyebrow raised, and he flashed stunning white teeth in a smile that would turn most girls to mush.

I’m one of them.

“They are only dangerous when not handled or used properly.” I pointed to a beautiful ruby red rose. “This gorgeous dame can be mixed with honey for love potions and is quite harmless. The vine growing above it—there with the almost black buds—those flowers can also be crushed and mixed with honey, but bring about convulsions and internal hemorrhaging seconds after being ingested.”

“Remind me to never make you an enemy.” He more snorted than laughed and shook his head. “Don’t you worry about a child or an idiot adult wandering in here and hurting themselves?”

I shrugged. “Don’t have many visitors, and usually those who do make it through the door know better. As for children, that’s why the poisonous ones are up high. Only the idiot adults need worry.”

He ignored that last comment and walked toward the herbs. “Are all of these used in your potions and spells?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“I smell sage. What do you use that for?” He bent over sniffing, but I noticed he kept his free hand in his pocket.

“Sage purifies everything from the air when it’s burned, and your body when used in lotions and soaps. Centuries ago it was thought to bring wisdom and clarity. It does have a knack for getting rid of negative energy. And it’s great on chicken.”

“I’ve never seen this. What is it?”

“That’s meadow rue; it’s used to break hexes, as a flea repellent, and against predatory animals like werewolves.”

His head popped around on that one. “There’s no such thing.”

“Just because you haven’t seen something doesn’t mean it’s not real.” I turned on the mist over the rose garden. Watering in the morning keeps the plants from molding.

“Have you ever seen a werewolf?”

I shrugged. “No, but I’ve heard lots of stories. And I’ve met people who swear they are real.”

“I’m not sure what to believe anymore.” He faced me and the serious tone told me he had a lot more than plants on his mind. The handsome smile was gone.

“What is it?”

“I’m ashamed.” He crossed his arms and turned away from me.

“Of what?”

“Of my need to be close to you.” He faced me again, brown eyes staring intensely.

“Oh.” What the heck could I say to that? “Look, I thought I made it clear that we can’t be any more than friends.”

“Just because you want it so, doesn’t make it happen.” He blew out a breath. “But that isn’t why I needed to talk to you. Is there some way you can keep people from hearing what I have to say?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, at least five miles from town.” I closed my eyes and used my mind to search the house. “And Maridad is working on her laptop in the living room so no one will hear you.”

“It’s not enough. There must be a spell or something you can do to block out everyone.” He frowned and crossed his arms against his chest. “Including witches, warlocks, wizards, or anyone else in the magic world I don’t know about.”

“Why would you…” Understanding dawned. “Oh! No problem.”

I waved my hand in a circle around us and asked for protection from prying ears and eyes. The sounds of the birds and wind outside ceased and we were engulfed in silence.

A white mist surrounded us that would keep all ears and minds at bay. He pulled out a wooden stool from under the gardening worktable and sat down.

I did the same. “Okay, it’s you and me. Tell me why you’re worried about warlocks and wizards listening in.”

“Someone seems to know my every move, and it has to be more than a leak in my family or at Duban Industries.” He shifted on the seat, shoulders hunched.

I’d never seen him like this.

“When I said I didn’t know what to believe, I mean about everything.” He placed his hands on his knees and the sadness in his eyes yanked at my heart.

“You can tell me anything, Azir. I’ll help you.”

He tapped his foot in a nervous action. “Bronwyn, you are the one person I trust right now. The only one. And it makes me feel guilty for lying to you about the jet. I only did it so that I could see you. I think clearer when you are around.”

“For future reference, you didn’t need to lie about the jet. If we’re going to be friends and business associates, I’d appreciate nothing but the truth in the future. Lecture’s over. Why are you so upset? Is it your father?”

This strong, proud man suddenly looked like a lost boy. “My father is dead.” He rubbed his hand over his face as if trying to erase the anguish the words caused. The action tugged my heart and made it difficult for me to swallow. Such grief.

“I’m sorry. Wait—didn’t he try to kill you? I don’t understand.” I reached across and gathered his hands in my own.

“That’s the worst of it. Someone tried to make it look like my father was involved. The attacks began two months ago, but I found out that my father has been dead for months.”

“But you told me that you keep in contact with him.”

“The woman my father had been living with found me earlier in the week. She’s been hiding in Dubai for months with a child who is my half brother.”

“So some woman calls and says that he’s dead and she has his kid. Come on, Azir. You see the worst of humanity on a regular basis. You know how it works. She just wants money from you.”

He held up a hand. “No, no. It isn’t like that. She didn’t ask for anything. In fact, she risked her life and the child’s to contact me. She did it out of love for my father.”

“Maybe you should just start from the beginning.” I shifted my seat closer to him.

“I told you that my father had been working with several tribes trying to find a fair and peaceful resolution to some boundary issues. Everything had gone well and he’d even managed to get some of the tribes to work together on different projects.

“One night rebels invaded the camp where he stayed and they took my father hostage. He escaped a few days later, but he’d been shot. By the time he made it back to the camp he only had a few more hours to live.”

He met my eyes. The misery in him tore at my soul.

“He told the woman everything and made her promise to give me a message. She said that he warned me to trust no one, including those I hold dearest. Even my mother and sister were under suspicion because someone in my family wanted me dead.”

And there it was. The final blow. He had known for weeks that someone in his family had been involved but none of us suspected his mother or sister. I still didn’t.

“It doesn’t mean they’re directly involved, Azir. Only that they may be unknowing pawns in someone else’s game.” I thought about the tears in his sister’s eyes when she greeted him that night, and his mother holding him so tight as if she never wanted to let him go. Those women loved him. I was certain.

I jumped off the stool and turned to face the door of the conservatory. I let my mind race across the miles and found Shera asleep in her bed. I flitted through her thoughts and saw nothing except she still longed for the man she loved.

Skipping to Kazamar, I probed more. I delved through the recesses in her mind. I unfolded memories and searched for any clue that she might betray her son. Again nothing.

“They’re not involved, at least not willingly so,” I told him.

“You read their minds that fast?”

“Yes, my connection to them helps me find them quickly. And, Azir, I found nothing.”

“That leaves my brother.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. I combed the earth for him and could not locate his brother. I tried again and nothing. Opened my eyes and turned to face the sheik.

“Bad news or really bad news first?”

“Bad news?”

Optimist. Even in his darkest time he had hope. I admired that.

“Okay, the bad news is your brother may be dead.”

Azir took in a sharp breath. At his stricken look I decided to get it all over with at once.

“The really bad news is, if he’s alive he’s under the care of some powerful magic. I can’t tap into him at all—his presence has been erased from the earth.”

Azir shoved his hands through his hair. His watery eyes broke my heart. I knew I sounded callous, but I was afraid his brother posed a grave danger to the sheik.

“It would explain a lot. Like why I got nothing but business deals from him when I prowled his mind before. Most people at least have thoughts about relationships or what they had for dinner. All I got from him was work-related details. Nothing else. Someone protected those other memories from me.”

“That doesn’t make my brother guilty of trying to kill me.”

“No, but would you prefer to believe that it’s Shera or Kazamar? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be cruel, but it’s time we did something about this and ended the threat once and for all. Do you have any meetings scheduled with your brother in the next few weeks?”

“He’ll be in Brussels this weekend while we are there. Are you certain it is him?” He let out a slow breath.

“No, and I won’t be until we can talk to him. Do you know of any reason why he would work with your cousin, why they would both want you dead?”

“You know about what happened with my cousin and uncle, but my brother took my side in the ordeal. He stood by me through everything and grieved as hard as I did for the death of our aunt.”

None of this made sense. I’d seen the brothers together and knew they had a loving relationship. “It’s possible he’s not aware of his actions and that he’s being manipulated by magic. They may be using him to get to you, much like they did your father. And I’m sorry, by the way—about your dad. Have you told the rest of the family?”

“I can’t. Not until we find out who is doing this. It’s important for them to believe that I think my father is still alive.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been getting notes and sometimes e-mails from my father the last few months.”

“Oh, so unless his ghost has been busy—Wait, e-mails from the desert?”

“Yes, there is such a thing as wireless communication, Bronwyn. Not as effective as your ability to whip in and read a mind, but it serves the rest of us well. We know how to trace the e-mails and letters, but those things take time.”

I might have a way of speeding up the process but didn’t want to give him false hope. “When will you leave for Brussels?”

“I thought perhaps we could go together at your scheduled time tomorrow.”

That meant another day and night here at the house. Great.

“Sure. Um, I’ve got some plans this afternoon but I could show you around town. It should take all of about six minutes.”

He laughed.

“Only you could make me smile at a time like this.” He reached out to pull me into a hug.

Wanted to remind him of the “no hugging the clients” rule that I made up when we were in Oslo, but it didn’t seem the right time. The man needed comfort. Caring arms to soothe a sad soul.

But it was just a hug. While we did have chemistry, I couldn’t stop thinking of Sam. I wanted to be in Sam’s arms.

I stepped away and cleared the spell. The mist dissipated, leaving nothing but bright sunshine filtering in through the glass. I took one last sniff of the earthy scent of my garden, and we went into the kitchen for breakfast.

Getting ready to meet Sam for lunch. I’m sure he’s going to be way excited that I’ve got the sheik and Maridad along for the ride. Oh, well.

Thursday, 7
P.M
.

Sweet, Texas

Boyfriends who get along: 2 (Okay, technically, they are friends who are boys. Only one of them is a boyfriend, and I’m not even sure about that.)

I
don’t know what kind of karmic wickedness I’m trying to work out but I wish it would hurry up and happen.

With the sheik and Maridad in tow, I checked the jets at the hangar and made sure we were good to go for tomorrow. Then we headed over to Lulu’s for lunch with Sam. I had a chance to call him and let him know that we had extra guests for the meal. He had been surprisingly accepting and said he might be a tad late, but would definitely be there.

At the diner Ms. Helen and Ms. Johnnie threw a fit over the sheik. Seems Ms. Johnnie had herself an Arab lover back in the day, who bought her a Bentley. Every once in a while he sends her a new car, even though they haven’t seen each other in more than thirty years.

The sheik marveled at the collection of photos sporting Ms. Helen and Ms. Johnnie, spread over the walls of the cozy café.

“You’ve lived an interesting life.” Azir pointed to the photo of Ms. Johnnie with a college basketball team from Austin. She must have been about twenty at the time, and every man in the picture had his eyes on her.

“Oh, my, yes. Those boys were absolutely delicious.” Ms. Johnnie winked. “See that one, third left from the bottom? He was husband number one. Such a wonderful boy. I really loved him, too, for about a year.”

Then she walked off to check on some other patrons.

The sheik looked at me, and I only shrugged. “I have no idea, but I guarantee you if she ever shares the story it’ll be an interesting one.”

We sat down at the big table in the back just as Sam, dressed in dark denims with a deep burgundy shirt, walked in. He smiled, no hint of the previous night’s jealousy in his face.

My gorgeous Sam. I sighed, and Azir looked at me strangely.

Sam shook hands with Maridad and the sheik, and then leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

Damn, he smelled good. Sandalwood with a hint of orange spice and patchouli.

“Oh, how’s Mr. Gunther?” I asked Sam as he sat down at the table. “I thought we might stop by and see him this afternoon if he’s up to it.”

“He’s doing much better. Whatever you did seemed to work.” Sam grabbed one of the plastic menus from the center of the table and put his napkin in his lap. “And I know he’d enjoy a visit before you leave town again.”

Ms. Johnnie came and took our drink orders. It was quiet for a few minutes while we perused the plastic-covered menus.

Sam grabbed the sugar and put two of the packets in his iced tea as he spoke. “I don’t know what you like, but everything here is good.”

Azir and Maridad watched him and then they did the same thing. Never dawned on me that they might not have had iced tea before.

“Is the chicken-fried steak a chicken steak? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Maridad’s puzzled look made me smile.

Sam turned to her. “Well, it’s not really chicken. It’s a beef cutlet that is battered and fried to perfection. This is one of the best places to try it if you’re willing.”

When Ms. Johnnie came back we ordered a round of chicken-fried steaks, mashed potatoes, and Texas toast. I’d worry about the food coma later.

Again the conversation lulled. Without the distraction of menus to hide behind, the tension around the table became palpable. With these two handsome men in the same space it was difficult for me to think.

“We’ll definitely go by and see Mr. G today.” Okay, so I repeated myself, but I was desperate to get the convo going and I’m not exactly the queen of small talk.

“You’ll be surprised by how much better he looks. He’s made quite a turnaround.”

“Who is Mr. Gunther?” The sheik stirred his tea slowly. Took a sip and then smiled. It’s hard not to like Lulu’s tea.

“He’s a patient at the nursing home. Bronwyn’s been helping with his case. He suffers from Alzheimer’s and she found a way to help with his memory.” Sam grabbed a piece of corn bread from the red basket Ms. Johnnie had put in the middle of the table.

Again the other two diners followed his actions and slathered butter onto their bread. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“Um, yes—he’s a great guy, full of wonderful stories.” I coughed into my napkin to get myself under control. Watching Sam and the sheik play Simon Says gave me a fit of giggles. “I devised a potion that gives him mental clarity. Had to go back to the drawing board earlier in the week, though.”

“Back to the drawing board?” Maridad asked before she took a small bite of her corn bread. Her eyes widened and she looked at the bread and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth. Ms. Johnnie’s baked goods do that to people. She absolutely inspires pigdom.

“I had to rework the potion so that we could boost his energy. Part of the disease—it’s okay if I talk about this, Sam?” I’d remembered his doctor-patient thing and didn’t want to cross any lines.

“Sure, you’re not a doctor and Mr. Gunther’s given his permission anyway.”

“OK, so fatigue is also a part of the disease and I had to find a way to boost his energy without crashing his immune system or causing more memory troubles. It wasn’t easy but it sounds like we’re on the right track.”

“Fascinating. So do you normally use magic in your practice?” The sheik turned to Sam. He said it in a way that made the other man smile. Not condescending or reproachful but more in awe. I wondered how he knew Sam was a warlock.

Knowing Azir, he’d probably had the doctor investigated.

“Not to the extent of what Bronwyn does. I’m a natural healer, so yes, I guess magic comes into it.”

I’d never heard Sam talk to anyone else about his abilities. He seemed so comfortable with the sheik. I hadn’t known what to think about the two men dining together.

Well, that’s not true. I thought for sure there’d be some jealousy, but they were genuinely interested in one another. The sheik asked about Sam’s practice and Sam questioned the other man about his work with Duban Industries.

“The company name sounds familiar, and not just because I know my father uses your golf balls.” Sam flagged Ms. Helen over when she came out of the kitchen and asked if she had any fried okra today. She ran back and then brought a huge basket with ranch dressing.

I wasn’t sure what Maridad and Azir would think of the heart-clogging meal, but what the heck. They seemed to enjoy the experience of trying something new.

Sam thumped himself on the head. “I know. Did you work with my father on the new wing of Children’s Hospital in Chicago?”

“I was involved, and hired the architect.”

Turned out Azir and Sam’s father were old friends and Sam knew about the sheik’s humanitarian efforts. After that it was a virtual lovefest between the two men. It ended, after slices of chocolate pie, with the sheik offering to take Sam on his next mission to save the world.

Whatever.

Later in the afternoon we checked in on Mr. Gunther and I took him another journal. I know it’s wrong but I keep thinking that if he feels like he has to fill another one, maybe he won’t give up on life too soon.

I’ve got to pack for the trip to Brussels and then we’re going over to Kira’s for dinner with everyone. She’s decided to put on a last-minute Mexican fiesta for Maridad and the sheik.

I’m bringing the margarita mix and sparkly lights to decorate the living area. It should be an interesting evening.

Friday, noon

Waning moon

New York City

Confused witches: 1

Spells: 1 (I did it for mental clarity)

I flew us into New York and we are refueling. The other pilots, who (under Azir’s insistence) are flying us to Brussels, are doing a final flight check.

The sheik is all business today but he cut loose more than I’ve ever seen him last night. He and Maridad don’t drink, it being against their religion, but they did enjoy the virgin margaritas I mixed. I did the same since I had to pilot the plane this morning.

Kira fixed every kind of enchilada known to man. There were cheese, sour cream, chicken, beef, and spinach along with a giant pot of refried beans and bowl of Spanish rice. I’d never seen so much food in one place.

After the artery-damaging lunch we had, I was surprised to see Azir load his plate with one of everything. Cocked my head and raised an eyebrow as I stared at the contents he’d piled on. Could this be the same guy who served fish and vegetables for days on end?

“I hear Americans eat their emotions, so I’ve decided to join the crowd.” He smiled.

“Well, at the rate you’re going you’re headed for a nervous breakdown.” I’d meant it as a joke, but when his face turned into a frown I mentally clonked myself in the head. If anyone had the right to lose it big time, it was this guy.

“I think I’ll join you.” I laughed, trying to take the edge off my words.

Kira’s dining room wasn’t large enough for all of us, but she’d spread large pillows throughout the living area. I loved her style. It was like hippie meets old world with a lot of bold colors thrown in. The sofa and pillows were tapestry with touches of deep maroon velvet. But in the doorway separating the dining room from the other part of the house hung beads, which had been formed into a picture of the Mona Lisa. Anywhere else it would be absurd, but in Kira’s home, it worked.

I watched from the archway as the sheik was drawn into conversation with my friends. They made a real effort to make him feel welcome. He looked more relaxed and happy than I’d seen him in weeks, sitting there on the floor of Kira’s living room.

“Is he in danger?” Sam stood beside me. I’d been so absorbed in what was before me that I hadn’t noticed.

“I can’t talk about it”—I turned to him—“but yes.”

“And it’s your job to protect him?”

“You know it is.”

“He’s a good man, but it hurts me to see you with him.” Sam stared at me.

“Really? You seem so comfortable around each other….” Tried to act nonchalant, but he saw through it.

“Oh, don’t for a minute think I’m not jealous, Bronwyn. I’m absolutely seething with it. That man can offer you the world. And while I could make you comfortable, the most I have to give you is me.”

I didn’t think it possible but my heart caught in my throat. “Sam,” I whispered.

“Do you love him?”

What a question. And it wasn’t easy to answer.

“I care for him.” I shook my head. “I know what you think, but I have a rule about getting involved with clients. I just don’t do it.”

“I wish I could believe that. You can fool yourself if you like, but the rest of us can see when you look at him that you’ve gone way past caring. And I’d bet my life savings that he’s in love with you.”

“No, Sam, you’d be wrong. He might be in lust with me, but it isn’t love.”

“Open your eyes, Bron. Really open them. You’re the one who is wrong. That man is in love with you. Trust me, I see it in the mirror every day.”

Sam didn’t sound angry; sad more than anything. He took the plate from my hand and drew me into the corner nook of the dining room where Kira had set out all the food.

“I love you.” He cupped my face in his hands. “No matter what happens in the next few weeks, I want you to know that we belong together. You are my heart.”

He kissed me long and hard as if he knew I had no response. That isn’t true. I loved him, too. I just couldn’t say it yet.

I also had feelings for the sheik, but not what I felt for Sam. Unfortunately, in that moment I couldn’t verbalize the way he made me feel.

He showed me words weren’t needed.

He leaned against the wall and pulled me with him. Wrapping our arms around one another, we stood in silence just hugging. I could see the shimmer of a purple aura as our magic mixed. In many ways he completed me, and I didn’t even know how exactly.

I nibbled at his lips and then deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue into his mouth as I pushed my pelvis into him. I wanted to show him what I couldn’t tell him. And I prayed he understood.

Someone cleared a throat behind me and I turned to see Maridad. “I’m sorry, I—the enchiladas are quite tasty and I wanted to try the ones with the cheese.” She rambled on nervously. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s okay. They’re the ones with the sour cream sauce.” I kissed Sam on the cheek and squeezed him tight one last time. Then I turned to help her.

Sam walked into the other room.

“I apologize, I didn’t realize you were in here.” She put her hand on my shoulder.

I smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Your doctor loves you very much. You can see it in his eyes.” Funny, Sam had said the same thing to me, only he’d been referring to the sheik.

“He’s a good man.”

“You are unsure of your heart?” Maridad’s questions hit the point rather quickly. She never minced words.

“I guess you could say that. I care for him more than I thought possible, but…”

“Again, I say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude into your private business. I worry about Sheik Azir. He too seems to care for you, and I wouldn’t like to see him get hurt.”

“Nor would I. And I think you’re right about the caring thing. If I’m more honest than I should be, I’ll tell you it goes both ways. Hence my troubles with the good doctor.”

“My mother, who seems to understand the relationships between men and women better than anyone I’ve ever known, says that when the heart is certain it makes the choice and it doesn’t matter what our minds tell us.” Maridad smiled as she added refried beans to her plate.

“That sounds exactly like something my mom would say. How about you? Is there someone you love back in Dubai?”

“Yes, very much. But he has no idea.” She looked through the beads at Azir.

I wondered what she meant by that. Was she in love with Azir? She didn’t act like a scorned woman, and she had treated me with nothing but respect. I didn’t get the chance to ask because she joined the crowd in the living room before I could question her.