Page 5 of Charmed

"I have no complaints." He rose and rolled his head to stretch his neck. One of these days, he'd stop proving to her how much she got under his skin. Perhaps then, she'd quit goading him.

The likelihood of that happening was as realistic as pigs flying in Hell just after it froze over.

"Did she complain?" Sexy lip purse. "If you're still this wound up, you're doing it wrong. Just sayin'."

His fists clenched at his sides. He swore, he was going to shut her up by kissing all sass from that erection-inducing mouth sometime in the not-too-distant future. The act would kill him, but he'd go out happy.

A beep signaled an incoming text, saving him from doing something stupid. He glanced at his phone as Fiona checked hers.

Tristan: Ceara and Mara's ferry is 20 minutes behind. Be home late.

Brady's message pinged seconds later. Kaida and I, too. F-ing contractors. Someone else snag dinner.

It was a group text between them six, something they'd been doing for a couple months to stay in constant contact when not together. Riley's gut sank. With the others running late, that left Fiona and him alone at the mansion, where they typically sparred and trained in the home gym. Afterward, they'd eat and catch up on events, plan for possible attack.

Words blurred on the screen as his blood pressure rose anew. "See how easy that is, Fi? You string a few letters together and hit Send."

She closed the register, her thumb simultaneously working her cell. A moment later, his phone beeped.

Bite me.

"Golly," she said, glib dripping from her pores. "You're right. That was easy."

Oh, she wanted to play? He'd play. He typed a response. Where, babe? And how hard?

She stared at her screen. Blinked. Then, she...laughed. Honest to God, laughed. A sultry, rich sound that drifted like smoke and settled in his bones. His heart did some kind of somersault and waved a white flag.

While he attempted his damn best at remaining upright, she turned and removed a framed picture from the wall of the moon illuminating the ocean, revealing a safe. Her slender fingers worked a dial, her many rings glistening under the overhead light. She set the bank bag in the safe, and his brain finally resuscitated.

"Did it ever occur to you that people care?" He shoved his phone in his pocket, leaving his hands there lest he use them on her. "Tristan was at the hotel all day surrounded by his staff. Mara and Ceara were on the mainland picking up supplies for your shop. Kaida and Brady were together at the library for historical society stuff. I was at my office with employees and tourists." He sighed. "And where were you? Here, alone. The least protected of all of us today."

She froze in the process of re-hanging the picture, her spine stiff. "I had customers around."

"Every second?" He shook his head. "Why didn't you call me? I have a flexible schedule and you know it. All you had to do was call, Fi."

Her shoulders deflated and she bowed her head. She spent eons snubbing out the incense burning in a dish before turning to face him. "You had the big meeting with Mayor Bridgeport this afternoon to set up the autumn island budget." She leaned against the back counter, fingers gripping the edge by her hips.

He didn't know what shocked him more—the fact she'd actually listened to him and remembered his itinerary or that her not calling for backup had been an act of consideration on her part. At least, in her eyes.

"I would've rescheduled." Lord knew, any way he could get out of seeing the mayor was good for him. The four-foot nothing powerhouse of a woman steamrolled through their interactions until she got what she wanted. It took all his energy to stand his ground and maintain diplomacy. "Your safety is more important than a meeting."

She stared at him for the longest breadth of time, her expression a blank mask. "Careful, that looks an awful lot like give-a-shit on your face."

Was she kidding? "Your sister nearly died. Uncle Greg took her right off the street, injected her with a sedative, beat the crap out of her, and plunged a dagger into her stomach. Yeah, Fi, you're strong and crafty, but so is she, and he still got to her. All it took was her dropping her guard for a moment."

"You think I don't know that?" She shoved off the counter and strode around it to go toe-to-toe with him. "You think every time I look at my hands I don't see her blood all over them?" She pushed at his chest, forcing him to stumble back a step. "Healing her took every ounce of my magick, and it nearly wasn't enough." Another push. "I have nightmares about it. I close my eyes and it repeats over and over—"

He grabbed her wrists mid-push and held her still. "Exactly my point. Why on earth would you leave yourself open after what happened?" Far as he knew, Fiona had one weakness, and her sisters were it. He could say the same about his brothers. They were all he had, and if anything were to take them from him, he wouldn't survive.

"Yes, my ancestors hunted and killed yours. Yes, our families have a long-winded history of hating one another. But we are not them." He gave her a little shake. "I realize this might be hard for you to wrap your beautiful head around, but I do care. My brothers care. So, would you please just pick up the damn phone next time?"

Chapter Two

Fiona rested her elbow on the window well, watching the scenery as Riley drove them up the curvy coastal road that would take them to the highest point on Six Fates Island.

The Atlantic panned out the driver's side, rocky cliffs growing steeper. The gray-blue water was relatively calm in the distance, save for a few white-capped waves. Out her window, boulders cut through emerald green grass, shallow hills, and wildflowers in full summer bloom. Gray birch and pitch pine grew intermittent and provided shade.

She should've taken her car to work this morning instead of hitching a ride with Kaida and Brady. If she had, she wouldn't be stuck in an enclosed space with Riley. The stupid, sexy man. They'd spent their entire childhood and adolescence pretending one another didn't exist. It had worked well for them, both feeding into the animosity between their bloodlines. But ever since the three-by-three had joined forces, she'd become all too aware of him. Like the light woodsy scent of his cologne and the way he seemed able to take up space no matter where he planted himself.

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