Bewitched. Lori Foster

of his grin before he tried to hide it. “I’d be glad to oblige you, even though you’re too short and your assets are still rather questionable, regardless of the high value you’ve put upon them—”

      “Harry.”

      “—but again, it’s just too messy out here. Too much mud and too many weeds I don’t recognize and don’t want my more private body parts to come into contact with. Plus, I don’t know anything about you, why you’re dressed as a male, if you’re possibly gay—”

      “I’m not gay.”

      “Well, being that we’re alone for who knows how long, that’s a comfort of sorts I suppose.”

      Charlie stopped. She turned to face him, her hands fisted. “Will you stop blathering on. And what possible difference could it make to you if I’m gay or not?”

      “We may never find civilization again. Or at least, it could take more hours than I’m willing to ponder. Feminine company might come in handy. Think about it. It’s almost romantic. All alone in a dark woods, silence all around us. Only my body to keep you warm and protect you.”

      Though she knew he was being sarcastic, her stomach tingled at his words. She could almost feel his heat.

      Men never flirted with her, if indeed that’s what he was doing. Men threw lewd comments her way on occasion, but she doubted Harry could sound lewd if he tried.

      She dredged up her own sarcasm to mask her response. “All we need is candlelight and wine?”

      His voice lowered to a sexy rumble. “I never imbibe when with a woman. It dulls the senses, you know, and I prefer to feel everything as it’s supposed to be felt.”

      Despite herself, she drew in a long breath of surprise.

      He laughed, then flicked her nose. “Also a flashlight is more economical. Candlelight is far too vague.” He pulled a small penlight from his pocket, dangling with his keys from a key chain. “I think I’d like a nice sharp beam of light so I can fully explore things. Especially these mysterious breasts of yours.” A skinny beam of light flashed over her shoulders and she jerked around, giving him her back. She saw the light coast lower.

      “Harry,” she warned.

      “Hmm?”

      “You’re being outrageous.” She started walking again, no better reply forthcoming.

      “Thank you.” When she snorted, he said, “I did manage to distract you, didn’t I?”

      She paused in her stride, but just for a moment. “I suppose. Now tell me why you were in that store, what a private investigator has to do with Floyd and Ralph. And, oh yeah, who’s Carlyle?”

      “If I tell will you tell?”

      “Kind of like, show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”

      “I’m willing if you are. Of course, I don’t have the added pressure of having to produce something worth a man’s life.”

      Charlie laughed, she couldn’t help herself. For several years now, she’d disdained men, her supposed father especially, though she didn’t remember the man all that well anymore, the long ago memories and her mother’s words mixing together in confusion. Today might have been the day to end the confusion, but everything had gone worse than wrong.

      As to the others, the men who sat in her saloon night after night, drinking themselves into a stupor, claiming their wives were responsible or irresponsible or dull. And her mother’s old boyfriends, no accounts without a future or the urge to motivate. They were all jerks and users and she had nothing but contempt for them all.

      Harry was different. He was outrageous, true, but he made her laugh and his outrageousness wasn’t a threat or an insult, but rather a game, a certain charming wit that he employed with skill. She had no fear he would force her, or that he’d actually try to humiliate her as Floyd had. He was big and brave, and something of a hero, a fact she couldn’t deny since she’d seen herself the efforts he’d made to try to protect her, even with a gun to his head.

      “How old are you, Harry?”

      “An odd question, coming out of the blue like that, but why not? As a conversational gambit, it beats the obvious chitchat of weather, and it’s as good as any other. I’m thirty-two. And you?”

      “Are you a good private eye?”

      “Meaning?”

      “Do you make much money at it?”

      He cleared his throat. “Less of a gambit, but yes, I support myself nicely if that’s what you mean.”

      He was probably expensive, too expensive, but maybe she could figure something out. “How long have you been in the detecting business?”

      “Detecting? Well, let’s see. About six years now.”

      “Are you kind to animals?”

      He laughed. “There’s a purpose to this interview? All right, I’ll trust there is. I have two dogs and a cat and they love me or at least they pretend to in order to get me to do their bidding or sometimes when I find a chewed up shoe or a mess in the corner. Does that answer your question?”

      “Are you married?”

      “Did you have an unemployed dog in mind that you’re hoping to foist off on me?”

      A small lump of dread formed in her stomach and she struggled to keep her tone light. “So you are married?”

      “Divorced, actually, not that it should concern you.”

      She turned to face him. He was big and gorgeous and funny and a hero. He might well be the man she needed. God knew her level of success on her own hadn’t been anything to boast about, especially given today’s incredible fiasco. “I think I like you, Harry.”

      “Look there,” Harry said, pointing over her head and studiously ignoring her last statement. “A building of some sort. I do believe salvation is at hand.”

      Charlie looked in the direction he indicated. They’d wandered completely through the woods to another road. A small block building, bludgeoned by the rain, sat close to the road, looking indeed like salvation.

      Harry, his face averted, plodded onward and Charlie gladly let him lead the way, content to follow behind. To say she trusted him now would definitely be going too far, but he’d made her laugh and that was a huge accomplishment. As to the rest, she’d just have to wait and see.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “WELL WHAT DO you know, it’s an abandoned gas station.”

      Harry stood in a spot of grease, thankfully out of the rain, and studied their little Eden. He’d had to kick in the door, which had proved remarkably easy given the rotting wood and rusty lock. Likely inhabited by any number of critters, it was still dry and safe and a block against the growing breeze. The rain finally began to taper off, but with that concession came a chill that sank bone-deep. The temperature had dropped by several degrees and he could see Charlie’s lips shivering. Nice lips, sort of pouty in a seductive way, especially for a woman who wasn’t all that attractive and seemed to have a problem with cordial behavior. Would she have really let them shoot him?

      Damn her, he just didn’t know.

      “How long has it been empty do you think?”

      She stood huddled in the middle of the floor, her arms wrapped tight around herself, her knees knocking together, determined not to utter a single complaint, as if admitting to the cold was a weakness. Strange woman.

      A growing puddle formed around her. Her hair had mostly come loose from the rubber band and was starting to curl just the tiniest bit.

      “Perhaps from the time they put in the highway some five years ago. This is the old county road. No one travels it anymore