Lori Foster - Bewitched - In Too Deep

Harry started to tell her that Dalton would gladly help her in any way he could. But he held back. It wasn’t his place to make promises for Dalton, so he decided to talk to him first. Besides, Charlie’s attitude was less than promising, and explaining away the past was a chore Dalton could better handle.

Still, Harry felt he had to soften her just a bit, to perhaps suggest she modify her assumptions until the facts could be presented. “I’m sorry to hear about your financial difficulties, but—”

Her fist smacked the tabletop, causing him to jump. “Why should my sister have to settle for less than the college of her choice, just because my father was too low, too deceitful to own up to his responsibilities? Why should he get off leaving the entire burden to me…I mean, my mother?”

Harry heard the slip, of course, but he let it pass. All he knew about Charlie’s mother was what Dalton had shared, and he imagined from what he’d heard, Charlie’s life hadn’t been an easy one. That had been one of the biggest motivators for Dalton, the main reason why he’d refused to give up the search. He’d worried endlessly for the well-being of his daughters.

The dogs chose that propitious moment to want in, giving Harry a few minutes to think. He automatically went into his laundry room first to get an old towel, then opened the back door and knelt down. The dogs, well used to the routine, waited while Harry cleaned their muddy paws.

Charlie gawked at him. “Do you do that every time they go out?”

“When necessary, yes. I have fastidious dogs.”

“Gee, I wonder where they get it from?”

There was just enough sarcasm in her tone to tell Harry she was nettled. Very slowly, he looked up at her. “You’re not, perchance, making fun of my animals, are you?”

Her brows lifted.

“Because while I’ll accept aspersions thrown at me, I don’t take kindly to insults of my pets.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re defending an old collie, a mutt and an alley cat?”

His eyes narrowed and she muttered, “All right. Sorry.”

She didn’t look overly sincere. In fact, she still looked angry. Well, there was nothing he could do about it, not yet at least.

Harry reseated himself. Sooner lay on the floor, resting his head on Harry’s feet. Grace went to her dish to eat. “Perhaps your father has a legitimate excuse—”

“Ha! If he does, then he can damn well keep it to himself, because I’m not interested in hearing it. Years ago I might have…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. Sooner stared at her, picked up on her distress, and abandoned his master to go lick her hand. Charlie smiled and scratched his head.

After an audible swallow, she continued. “All I want to know is if he’s got any money, if I can count on him to do the right thing. He owes it to my sister to help her, to give her the opportunity to do her best in this world.”

Harry saw her stubborn pride, her visible struggle to keep herself together. Something inside him softened, and that tender feeling made him uneasy. “What about you? Doesn’t he owe you, too, Charlie?”

She stared him straight in the eye and said, “If it was just me, I’d gladly survive in the gutter with the moldy rats before giving him the time of day.”

Well. Harry leaned back in his seat, nonplussed. She certainly had a visual way of getting her point across. “Things aren’t always as they seem, you know.”

She stood, and both Grace and Sooner flanked her. “If you don’t want to help out, that’s fine. But spare me the lectures on goodwill. My charitable attitude died a long time ago.”

She turned away and the dogs followed, forming a small parade. Harry felt abandoned and left his seat to hurry after them. Since his legs were so long, he only had to hurry for two steps. “Where are you going?”

“To call a cab. It’s time for me to head home.”

“Charlie.” He caught her arm and turned her back around to face him. But she looked up at him, and her face was so innocent, despite her bravado, her eyes dark and searching, he felt that damn tender feeling swell up again. It seemed to explode inside him, filling him up, choking him when he hadn’t even touched his cursed coffee.

He released her and backed up. The dogs frowned at him, but with the facts of her parentage dropped at his feet, all carnal tendencies would have to be forgotten. He couldn’t see her as a sexual being, as a woman he wanted so badly his muscles ached. No, she was the daughter of his friend, a man who’d always been like a father figure to Harry. Touching her would mean betraying Dalton, and he couldn’t do that.

Charlie was definitely off-limits.

That little truism annoyed his libido and gnawed at his control, but he stiffened his resolve.

He shook his head, verifying to himself, if not to her, that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, be tempted. Not now. “I’ll drive you home. You can’t very well get into a cab alone this time of night, especially not dressed like that.”

She summoned a look of such scorn, he felt his ears burn. “I know how to take care of myself, Harry. I’ve been doing it most of my life. You can rest easy. Your duty is over.”

He looked down his nose at her, being deliberately intimidating, which sent the dogs slinking off, though the effect on her seemed minimal. “Your shoulders are too narrow to support such an enormous chip, Charlie. No, don’t flog me with your insults. I am taking you home and that’s all there is to it. Since I’m of a greater size, and you’re rather piddling in comparison, it stands to reason I’m more capable of carrying through with any threats, veiled or otherwise. It’ll be better for both of us if whatever you’re thinking remains unsaid.”

She rolled her eyes. “Half the time, Harry, I have no idea what the hell you’re saying.”

“And…,” he added, knowing he was jumping into a muddy creek when he had no idea how deep it might be, “I will check into things for you.”

There, he’d committed himself. But even as he’d reluctantly uttered the ill-fated words, Harry wondered what else he could possibly have done. He couldn’t just let her leave; Dalton would never forgive him. He’d looked for his children, spent a small fortune on the chore, for a great many years. Now here was his daughter, despising Dalton without knowing him, resenting him on hearsay, condemning him without knowing all the details, and Harry had the chance to find out where she lived, to assure Dalton that his daughters were alive and thriving.

He thought of everything at stake, and added softly, “Please, Charlie.”

It was the “please” that did it, causing the rigidity in her shoulders to relax, her attitude to soften enough that she could agree. “Oh, all right,” she muttered, without an ounce of feigned graciousness. “I suppose it doesn’t make sense to give up what I want just because I’m pissed off.”

She was certainly direct. “Ah…exactly.” He retrieved her jeans and found her another jacket to keep her warm on the ride to her place. They both said goodbye to the dogs, who wanted badly to go along but Harry explained to them there wasn’t room. “Just guard the place until I come home.”

The dogs went back to sleeping in their self-appointed spots.

Ted was nowhere to be found.

“He sulks when it’s dark,” Harry explained, “because more than anything, he likes lazing around in the sunshine. When there is none, Ted hides. Which is good, because when he doesn’t hide, he makes his discontent known to everyone.”

Charlie gave him a soft, feminine look that took him completely off-guard. “You’re very good to them, Harry.”

He didn’t like that look, didn’t want her thinking soft, feminine things about him, not when he couldn’t do anything about it. So he hustled her out to the parking garage where he kept his car before temptation could get the better of him, or before she could start disagreeing with him again. She truly was a most contrary woman.