"Aphrodite's_Passion_019" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_02]_-_Aphrodite's_Passion_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file...)

Chapter Sixteen

With morning, came guilt. And Hale was suffering bucketsful. He’d slept the night on Tracy’s couch. Well, slept was probably an overstatement; rather, he’d tossed and turned, thankful that Tracy hadn’t awakened and decided to plop herself on the sofa for a little late-night television.
Of course, Missy had visited him, but he was able to explain to her—in simple doggie terms—why he was camped out in the living room. He wasn’t sure the dog bought his story about keeping the place safe from the bad guys, but it didn’t much matter. Missy certainly couldn’t run to Tracy and tattle. Besides, the little beast seemed to like him, and she’d curled up at his feet, apparently undisturbed by the way he was tossing and turning.
Until last night, he’d assumed his lust for Tracy was simply a reaction to a pretty girl. At most, an annoying byproduct of whatever weird emotional malaise had gotten the better of him in California—in other words, temporary and controllable. But now...
Now he’d figured out about the belt; and that meant this might not be so controllable after all. In fact, Tracy was the one controlling him. Last night might have been heavenly while he was in the moment, but now that the haze of passion had lifted, Hale realized just how incredibly stupid he’d been.
Not only had his little invisible seduction been rude, it also could have landed him in one heck of a lot of trouble. Protectors were not allowed to go snooping around a mortal’s house without prior authorization, and that was a minor offense compared to what he’d done! And the fact that he’d been suffering under the residue of the belt’s magic was no excuse. Not that he’d necessarily call last night suffering. If Zephron found out—for that matter, if Tracy figured it out—well, he’d be on Probation so fast his head would spin.
And this wasn’t just about him. There was the whole mission to consider. If he screwed this up, Hieronymous might get his hands on that belt. Then they’d all have worse things to worry about than seductions that didn’t meet the Miss Manners seal of approval or the Mortal-Protector Treaty of 1970.
Never once had he put a mission in jeopardy, but he’d done it last night. And now that he was under Tracy’s spell, the odds were good he’d do it again.
He didn’t want to leave her—so help him, he was so far gone he wanted to stay near her no matter what the consequences—but under the circumstances, there was only one reasonable solution. He’d step back from the mission.
Zephron had wanted him to take the lead, but the Elder couldn’t have known that Hale would be compromised by Aphrodite’s spell. Which meant that Zoë should take over.
She could handle it; the odds were good, after all, that Tracy wasn’t going to have the hots for Zoë.
Hale would do the right thing. Zoë would get the belt back, Hale could go back to sleeping with busty blond mortals while having absolutely no emotional connection with them whatsoever, and they’d all live happily ever after.
It was a perfect plan. All he needed was to enlist his sister’s help. And so right before dawn, he headed for her house, then waited in the living room, determined to catch her the second she woke up.
The morning light hadn’t quite made it through the curtains in the living room when Zoë padded in wearing an oversized T-shirt and white athletic socks. She yawned, headed for the kitchen, then yelped when Hale sat upright on the couch.
“Apollo’s Apples!” She shot him an annoyed glare, and he stifled a laugh. “You scared me.”
“I thought I trained you better than that.” He’d come for her help, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy ribbing her. “What happened to always being prepared?”
“I never said I was a Boy Scout.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m prepared. For the bad guys, I’m totally ready. For you ...” She shrugged. “Maybe I just didn’t want to strain myself.”
He laughed, thoroughly enjoying the note of superiority lacing her voice. His little sister had come a long way. She was a skilled Protector, a married woman, and she played a mean game of Risk. Somewhere along the way, she’d become his friend even more than she’d ever been the little squirt he’d had to look after.
She squinted at him, concern etched on her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He took a deep breath. This kind of thing wasn’t easy for him. “I need some help.”
A single eyebrow arched up, but she didn’t make a smart-aleck comment. Instead, she just nodded. “Girl help? Or mission help?”
“Both.”
“This calls for cocoa.”
He raised an eyebrow. A year ago, her wacky super senses wouldn’t have let her go near chocolate. “I’m impressed.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Well, I’m still working on it. I’ll make yours the normal way. Mine has more milk than chocolate.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”
Five minutes later, Hale was camped out at his sister’s kitchen table, a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of him, and a watered-down version of the same on the table for Zoë. She pulled out the chair opposite him, settled in, propped her elbows on the table, and looked Hale in the eye. “So give.”
He glanced down the hall, not particularly wanting any other company while he was spilling his guts. “No one—”
“Taylor left about midnight. A stakeout on another case we’re working. I don’t expect him back until tonight. And Lane and I let Davy stay up late playing. They won’t wake up for hours.”
Hale nodded, but still didn’t say anything. There just wasn’t an easy way to phrase it.
“That was supposed to be your cue to talk,” Zoë prompted.
“I’m working on it.”
Her eyes got big. “That serious, huh?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned back in his chair, suddenly bone-tired. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, you said it involved the mission and a girl, right? So, that means the belt and Tracy.”
“A brilliant conclusion. Marrying a private investigator did wonders for your powers of deduction,” he gibed.
She made a face, but otherwise ignored his comment. “So ... what? I know your problem can’t be that you don’t know how to initiate a seduction. You’ve never had female problems in your life.”
Maybe not, but he was having problems now. “I haven’t done the best job of getting close to her,” he admitted. Actually, getting close hadn’t been the problem at all. He’d gotten close, all right. So close he could still smell Tracy on his skin. That was the problem.
“Oh.” She pursed her lips, considering. “Well, that’s not good. You need to get close enough to persuade her to give up the belt. She focused on him, her teeth playing along her lower lip. What have you tried.”
He shifted on the chair, not sure he wanted to discuss the details with his sister after all. Then again, confession was good for the soul—and it was either Zoë or Elmer. Between the two of them, he’d take Zoë any day. At worst, she’d become indignant on behalf of females everywhere. But then she’d get over it. Elmer would never let him live it down.
“Hale? What is it?” Her forehead creased, real concern reflecting in her eyes. “What did you do?”
“I started with your basic flirting,” he said. Might as well start with the truth.
“Started with? Where’d it go from there?”
Right into her bedroom. But he didn’t say that. He needed Zoë to understand how affected he was. How much the belt’s spell had mesmerized him. If she didn’t understand, she’d never agree to take over.
“The thing is, Zo, I need you on this mission. More than just as backup. I need you in there on the front line.”
“Zephron said this was your baby.” From the tone of her voice, he knew she wouldn’t ignore Zephron’s orders. Not without a damn good reason. Fortunately for Hale, he had a trump card. “Zephron didn’t have all the facts.”
“Uh-huh.” She shot him a dubious look before taking a long sip of cocoa.
“Seriously. The girl has a crush on me.”
At that, Zoë exploded into laughter, spewing cocoa on the table. “Oh, please!” She knelt on the chair, then sopped up the spilled liquid with her shirt. “That isn’t exactly news. Half the female population has a crush on you. I even ran across a website devoted to you the other day. And I might be your sister, but I have to say you look pretty darn cute in a loincloth. Nice buns.”
He groaned. He’d forgotten about that cover.
“I hardly think the fact that Tracy has a crush on you is a reason for you to abandon the mission.” Zoë tilted her head as the corners of her mouth turned down in a scowl. “Though I will say that it’s not like you to back out of a job for any reason. What’s really going on?”
“Her crush is what’s going on.” Hale ran his hands through his hair, as frustrated by the truth as he was by the fact that he needed help. “She has a crush on me, and she has the belt. You do the math.”
“Ohhhh.” Zoë pressed two fingers over her lips. “So, since the belt makes anyone the wearer desires fall under her spell—”
“I’m a sitting duck,” Hale finished.
“So, it’s working? I mean, you like the girl? More than the usual”—she gesticulated—“lust?”
That was the understatement of the year. “She’s amazing. There’s something about her that makes me feel...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Wonderful, I guess. Which is terrible.”
Zoë quirked a brow. “Wonderful is terrible?”
“Yes. And it’s worse because even though I know it’s an illusion, the little things make it seem real—her love of the ocean, her love of animals.” He shrugged again. “The way she laughs at my stupid jokes. All these little things draw me to her. But even more, she’s got this fire—this spark— but she doesn’t even know it.”
He frowned. “No, the belt makes me think she’s special. It feels wonderful... and I hate it.”
“Sounds perfect for the mission.”
Hale got up to refill his hot chocolate and shot her an annoyed glance. “She’s mortal—”
“You and your issues.”
“Even if she weren’t, this isn’t real. It’s a spell. I can’t work a mission while I’m bewitched.”
“Uh-huh.” Zoë ran her fingers through her hair, standing the coppery strands on end.
“That’s it? The entire scope of your sisterly advice is ‘uh-huh‘? Sisters are supposed to be interfering and opinionated. I’m in need of opinions here, Zo. I need a plan.”
“I just don’t see why you can’t stay on the mission. I mean, it was your idea to romance the belt out from under her. And if you’re enchanted ...” She trailed off, grinning. “If you’re enchanted, then you’ll really enjoy it.”
Taking a long swallow of cocoa, he counted to ten. So far, she really wasn’t helping.
“Try and follow me, okay?” When she nodded, he continued. “If I didn’t know I was under her spell, then maybe I could do that. But I do know, and it’s driving me nuts.”
“It’s not like you’re not used to dangerous missions.”
“Dangerous, yes! But not this.”
“Not what?”
He waved a hand. “Do you know what I did last night?” Too late, he realized he’d opened a door he wanted to remain shut.
Her eyes went wide. “Something totally off the charts if the tone of your voice is any indication.”
“Yeah, well... you could say that.”
“What?” She held her hands out, imploring. “I’m your sister. You have to tell me.”
He paused. “You’ve heard of phone sex?”
“You called and talked dirty to her?”
He ignored that. “The point is that the participants can’t see each other. Let’s just say I took that to a whole ‘nother level.”
Remarkably, her eyes got even wider. “You didn’t.”
“I couldn’t help myself. She’s... amazing.” He slammed his mug down on the table and stood up, totally frustrated with himself and the situation. “I told you I’m bewitched. I’m doing crazy things.”
Zoë shook her head. “What’s really driving you insane is feeling this way... and about a mortal.” She leaned back in her chair, her grin totally self-satisfied. And she didn’t look the least bit sorry for him. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes!” The answer burst out of him. The whole thing frustrated him. That Tracy was mortal. That he desired her because of some ancient trinket. Hale wasn’t one to buckle under to any sort of pressure. And now to have been bested by some fashion accessory ... well, that really reeked. The only good thing was that at least it wasn’t really him liking her. It was the belt. This was a curse. An enchantment. But it was better to be under a spell than to have fallen for a mortal.
Zoë laughed, the sound light and airy. “Oh, I wish Taylor were home to see this. And Daddy. You and a mortal. It’s priceless!”
Hale scowled. Their father was hopelessly in love with Zoë‘s mom, Tessa. And that woman was as mortal as they came. “How much longer are you going to keep teasing me before you decide to help?”
She glanced at her unadorned wrist as if it had a watch. “Dunno. Maybe five or six more minutes.”
He rubbed his temples, thinking that maybe it would have been a good idea to catch some sleep after all. A clear head was a requirement for tussling with Zoë. When he looked up, she was grinning.
“Would you stop it? This is serious. I’m in charge of this mission, and I’ve reached critical mass here.”
With obvious effort, she managed to pull her features back into some semblance of control. “You’re right. It is serious.”
“Thank you. Finally.”
“But it’s not serious in the way you think it is.” She paused, her lips pressed together.
Hale wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I’m already under the spell of an ugly belt that’s making me do irrational, stupid things. What could possibly be worse?”
He spoke lightly, but she didn’t seem to notice the levity. She didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ve been doing some research. You know, on the Net and with some books I got from the MLO. Fascinating stuff. Did you know that in the fifteenth century, the girdle—”
“Just spill it.” Enough, already. “Whatever you’re trying to say, just spit it out.”
“Okay. But, remember—you asked me to.” She took a deep breath, then looked him straight in the eye. “I gotta say, I’m getting a perverse sense of pleasure telling you this.”
“Telling me what?”
“You’re not under any spell, big brother.”
“Of course I am,” he said. Then he had the hideous feeling he knew what was coming. “I told you—”
“And I’m telling you. I’ve looked into this. No spell, Hale. Sorry.”
He opened his mouth to argue some more, but couldn’t quite form the words. He wanted to deny it, to yell that it wasn’t true. But in fact, he’d been avoiding the truth. He’d been messing around with Tracy and she hadn’t been wearing the belt. He’d known. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
Now he had no choice.
“A mortal wearing the belt has no power over a Protector,” Zoë explained. A devious grin touched her lips, and he knew she was enjoying this. “So, it looks like there’s a mortal woman in your life, and you’re fresh out of excuses.”



Mordichai perched on the windowsill of Zoë‘s kitchen window, looking in while she and Hale had cocoa. So far, all he’d seen was Hale wandering around looking agitated and Zoë looking smug. Unfortunately, neither was talking loud enough for him to hear anything.
He considered pressing himself to the window, but at the moment he was a red-breasted sapsucker, and while he might have a nice set of tail feathers, his hearing wasn’t as good as he might have hoped.
And if he tried to get closer, Zoë or Hale might notice him. A mortal would never be able to spot him, but his cousins certainly could. And anyone would think an eavesdropping bird pressed to the glass was odd.
Still, everything was okay. Just by being here, he’d learned what he needed to know. Hale was with Zoë and not with Tracy.
Now was his chance.
He thought about the slim brunette, wondering about the best way to get close to her. Yesterday when he’d perched on her trailer, the girl had been talking to that dust mop she called a dog. If she talked to one dog, why not another? Especially if the new dog was a stately, refined canine who whined and licked her face at all the appropriate intervals. Maybe a beagle. Or a Labrador.
No. His tail feathers twitched as he thought of the perfect dog: a collie. Mordichai was no Lassie, but he could do a damn fine impression.
His feathers ruffled as he considered his plan. First he’d be man’s—or woman’s—best friend. He’d learn what he could this morning. And then this evening he’d be the man of her dreams. A man who understood her needs and desires, almost as if she’d told him herself.



She’d forgotten to set her alarm, so Tracy didn’t wake up until about noon. She hated getting such a late start, but the reason was worth it.
As she snuggled back in bed, she remembered just how worth it. Last night she’d had the most amazing fantasy of her life. Amazing, that is, until it had fizzled at the end, leaving her teetering on the brink and totally frustrated. For reasons she didn’t quite grasp, the fantasy had lost a lot of its oomph.
Who would have thought that one’s imagination could be just as fickle as some men?
Well, imagined or no, last night had whetted her appetite for the real thing. That was for sure.
Realization bopped her on the head and she sat bolt upright. The real thing! Hale was taking her out tonight. She needed clothes. Shoes. Help. She needed help. And she knew just the person to help her—Hale’s sister, Zoë.
Her date with Leon had been a disaster, and she didn’t intend to watch history repeat itself. Now, with a plan, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of ratty sweats and a T-shirt. As she was heading out and downstairs to the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like a cross between a homeless person and a teenager in a grunge band.
She had no plans to bump into Hale, but you never know. And she certainly didn’t want him to see her like this. First she headed into the bathroom and did the whole makeup-and-hair thing. Not that it made a huge improvement, but at least she wouldn’t scare people in public. Then she headed to her closet with an eye to finding something casual yet fun and flirty. She began rummaging through her not-so-stellar collection of outfits. Boring. Boring. Dull. Boring. Needs ironing. A-ha!
A little red sundress she’d picked up from a studio resale shop. Someone had worn it on The Young and the Restless, and now it was Tracy’s turn. Apropos, considering how restless she’d felt last night.
As soon as she’d slipped it over her head and zipped up the back, she remembered why she hadn’t worn it before. The waistband was just a little too big. Well, darn. She was heading to her dresser to find a belt when she remembered her grandmother’s, still hanging on the back of the chaise where she’d left it last night.
For a second, she just scowled at it, wondering. Maybe she should have worn it for her date with Leon. Maybe if she had, he wouldn’t have been such a prick.
Or maybe he would still have been a prick, but she’d have had the confidence to respond coolly and reasonably, instead of bursting into tears in the foyer. She had no idea which was more likely, but she did know that the belt really did give her a shot of confidence, and she’d been sorely lacking in that last night.
So what if it was becoming a crutch? Some women wouldn’t leave the house without mascara. From now on, she wouldn’t leave without this belt.
Snapping it on, she assessed herself one last time in the mirror. Fortunately, the belt matched the dress perfectly, its gold color complementing nicely the little yellow flowers that dotted the red material.
She ran a brush through her hair—there wasn’t much more she could do without a blowtorch and concrete— then headed to the kitchen to make coffee and a phone call. Hopefully, Zoë would be home and willing to help her.
She was in luck; Hale’s sister answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?” she asked, as soon as Tracy identified herself.
“I need your help,” Tracy said. “Your brother’s coming over tonight, and—”
“You haven’t got a thing to wear,” Zoë finished for her. Then she laughed.
“Exactly. And ... well... you don’t know this, but my guy IQ is in the bottom percentile. I’m hopeless.”
“I doubt you’re that bad.”
“Trust me, I am,” Tracy said. “So will you help me with the clothes? And anything else you can think of? I don’t want to blow it with your brother like I did last night.”
The girl on the other end of the line paused. “I’d love to help you, but I’m not exactly an expert. If you’re bad, I’m ... well, worse. But my friend Deena...” Zoë drifted off. “Yeah. Let me send my friends Deena and Lane to help you out.”
“Are you sure?” Tracy wasn’t completely certain she wanted to go shopping with perfect strangers.
“Oh, yeah. If anyone can pull together an outfit, Deena can.”
“Well...”
“Trust me,” Zoë said. “You couldn’t find better help if you paid for it.”
Tracy sucked in a breath. Why not. She didn’t know Zoë well, but she trusted her. “Okay. If you say so. But do you think they’ll want to help?”
Zoë laughed. “Honey, if the object is to dress you up so that my brother Hale is prostrate with lust, well, that’s one project they would never want to miss out on.”

Chapter Sixteen

With morning, came guilt. And Hale was suffering bucketsful. He’d slept the night on Tracy’s couch. Well, slept was probably an overstatement; rather, he’d tossed and turned, thankful that Tracy hadn’t awakened and decided to plop herself on the sofa for a little late-night television.
Of course, Missy had visited him, but he was able to explain to her—in simple doggie terms—why he was camped out in the living room. He wasn’t sure the dog bought his story about keeping the place safe from the bad guys, but it didn’t much matter. Missy certainly couldn’t run to Tracy and tattle. Besides, the little beast seemed to like him, and she’d curled up at his feet, apparently undisturbed by the way he was tossing and turning.
Until last night, he’d assumed his lust for Tracy was simply a reaction to a pretty girl. At most, an annoying byproduct of whatever weird emotional malaise had gotten the better of him in California—in other words, temporary and controllable. But now...
Now he’d figured out about the belt; and that meant this might not be so controllable after all. In fact, Tracy was the one controlling him. Last night might have been heavenly while he was in the moment, but now that the haze of passion had lifted, Hale realized just how incredibly stupid he’d been.
Not only had his little invisible seduction been rude, it also could have landed him in one heck of a lot of trouble. Protectors were not allowed to go snooping around a mortal’s house without prior authorization, and that was a minor offense compared to what he’d done! And the fact that he’d been suffering under the residue of the belt’s magic was no excuse. Not that he’d necessarily call last night suffering. If Zephron found out—for that matter, if Tracy figured it out—well, he’d be on Probation so fast his head would spin.
And this wasn’t just about him. There was the whole mission to consider. If he screwed this up, Hieronymous might get his hands on that belt. Then they’d all have worse things to worry about than seductions that didn’t meet the Miss Manners seal of approval or the Mortal-Protector Treaty of 1970.
Never once had he put a mission in jeopardy, but he’d done it last night. And now that he was under Tracy’s spell, the odds were good he’d do it again.
He didn’t want to leave her—so help him, he was so far gone he wanted to stay near her no matter what the consequences—but under the circumstances, there was only one reasonable solution. He’d step back from the mission.
Zephron had wanted him to take the lead, but the Elder couldn’t have known that Hale would be compromised by Aphrodite’s spell. Which meant that Zoë should take over.
She could handle it; the odds were good, after all, that Tracy wasn’t going to have the hots for Zoë.
Hale would do the right thing. Zoë would get the belt back, Hale could go back to sleeping with busty blond mortals while having absolutely no emotional connection with them whatsoever, and they’d all live happily ever after.
It was a perfect plan. All he needed was to enlist his sister’s help. And so right before dawn, he headed for her house, then waited in the living room, determined to catch her the second she woke up.
The morning light hadn’t quite made it through the curtains in the living room when Zoë padded in wearing an oversized T-shirt and white athletic socks. She yawned, headed for the kitchen, then yelped when Hale sat upright on the couch.
“Apollo’s Apples!” She shot him an annoyed glare, and he stifled a laugh. “You scared me.”
“I thought I trained you better than that.” He’d come for her help, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy ribbing her. “What happened to always being prepared?”
“I never said I was a Boy Scout.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m prepared. For the bad guys, I’m totally ready. For you ...” She shrugged. “Maybe I just didn’t want to strain myself.”
He laughed, thoroughly enjoying the note of superiority lacing her voice. His little sister had come a long way. She was a skilled Protector, a married woman, and she played a mean game of Risk. Somewhere along the way, she’d become his friend even more than she’d ever been the little squirt he’d had to look after.
She squinted at him, concern etched on her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He took a deep breath. This kind of thing wasn’t easy for him. “I need some help.”
A single eyebrow arched up, but she didn’t make a smart-aleck comment. Instead, she just nodded. “Girl help? Or mission help?”
“Both.”
“This calls for cocoa.”
He raised an eyebrow. A year ago, her wacky super senses wouldn’t have let her go near chocolate. “I’m impressed.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Well, I’m still working on it. I’ll make yours the normal way. Mine has more milk than chocolate.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”
Five minutes later, Hale was camped out at his sister’s kitchen table, a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of him, and a watered-down version of the same on the table for Zoë. She pulled out the chair opposite him, settled in, propped her elbows on the table, and looked Hale in the eye. “So give.”
He glanced down the hall, not particularly wanting any other company while he was spilling his guts. “No one—”
“Taylor left about midnight. A stakeout on another case we’re working. I don’t expect him back until tonight. And Lane and I let Davy stay up late playing. They won’t wake up for hours.”
Hale nodded, but still didn’t say anything. There just wasn’t an easy way to phrase it.
“That was supposed to be your cue to talk,” Zoë prompted.
“I’m working on it.”
Her eyes got big. “That serious, huh?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned back in his chair, suddenly bone-tired. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, you said it involved the mission and a girl, right? So, that means the belt and Tracy.”
“A brilliant conclusion. Marrying a private investigator did wonders for your powers of deduction,” he gibed.
She made a face, but otherwise ignored his comment. “So ... what? I know your problem can’t be that you don’t know how to initiate a seduction. You’ve never had female problems in your life.”
Maybe not, but he was having problems now. “I haven’t done the best job of getting close to her,” he admitted. Actually, getting close hadn’t been the problem at all. He’d gotten close, all right. So close he could still smell Tracy on his skin. That was the problem.
“Oh.” She pursed her lips, considering. “Well, that’s not good. You need to get close enough to persuade her to give up the belt. She focused on him, her teeth playing along her lower lip. What have you tried.”
He shifted on the chair, not sure he wanted to discuss the details with his sister after all. Then again, confession was good for the soul—and it was either Zoë or Elmer. Between the two of them, he’d take Zoë any day. At worst, she’d become indignant on behalf of females everywhere. But then she’d get over it. Elmer would never let him live it down.
“Hale? What is it?” Her forehead creased, real concern reflecting in her eyes. “What did you do?”
“I started with your basic flirting,” he said. Might as well start with the truth.
“Started with? Where’d it go from there?”
Right into her bedroom. But he didn’t say that. He needed Zoë to understand how affected he was. How much the belt’s spell had mesmerized him. If she didn’t understand, she’d never agree to take over.
“The thing is, Zo, I need you on this mission. More than just as backup. I need you in there on the front line.”
“Zephron said this was your baby.” From the tone of her voice, he knew she wouldn’t ignore Zephron’s orders. Not without a damn good reason. Fortunately for Hale, he had a trump card. “Zephron didn’t have all the facts.”
“Uh-huh.” She shot him a dubious look before taking a long sip of cocoa.
“Seriously. The girl has a crush on me.”
At that, Zoë exploded into laughter, spewing cocoa on the table. “Oh, please!” She knelt on the chair, then sopped up the spilled liquid with her shirt. “That isn’t exactly news. Half the female population has a crush on you. I even ran across a website devoted to you the other day. And I might be your sister, but I have to say you look pretty darn cute in a loincloth. Nice buns.”
He groaned. He’d forgotten about that cover.
“I hardly think the fact that Tracy has a crush on you is a reason for you to abandon the mission.” Zoë tilted her head as the corners of her mouth turned down in a scowl. “Though I will say that it’s not like you to back out of a job for any reason. What’s really going on?”
“Her crush is what’s going on.” Hale ran his hands through his hair, as frustrated by the truth as he was by the fact that he needed help. “She has a crush on me, and she has the belt. You do the math.”
“Ohhhh.” Zoë pressed two fingers over her lips. “So, since the belt makes anyone the wearer desires fall under her spell—”
“I’m a sitting duck,” Hale finished.
“So, it’s working? I mean, you like the girl? More than the usual”—she gesticulated—“lust?”
That was the understatement of the year. “She’s amazing. There’s something about her that makes me feel...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Wonderful, I guess. Which is terrible.”
Zoë quirked a brow. “Wonderful is terrible?”
“Yes. And it’s worse because even though I know it’s an illusion, the little things make it seem real—her love of the ocean, her love of animals.” He shrugged again. “The way she laughs at my stupid jokes. All these little things draw me to her. But even more, she’s got this fire—this spark— but she doesn’t even know it.”
He frowned. “No, the belt makes me think she’s special. It feels wonderful... and I hate it.”
“Sounds perfect for the mission.”
Hale got up to refill his hot chocolate and shot her an annoyed glance. “She’s mortal—”
“You and your issues.”
“Even if she weren’t, this isn’t real. It’s a spell. I can’t work a mission while I’m bewitched.”
“Uh-huh.” Zoë ran her fingers through her hair, standing the coppery strands on end.
“That’s it? The entire scope of your sisterly advice is ‘uh-huh‘? Sisters are supposed to be interfering and opinionated. I’m in need of opinions here, Zo. I need a plan.”
“I just don’t see why you can’t stay on the mission. I mean, it was your idea to romance the belt out from under her. And if you’re enchanted ...” She trailed off, grinning. “If you’re enchanted, then you’ll really enjoy it.”
Taking a long swallow of cocoa, he counted to ten. So far, she really wasn’t helping.
“Try and follow me, okay?” When she nodded, he continued. “If I didn’t know I was under her spell, then maybe I could do that. But I do know, and it’s driving me nuts.”
“It’s not like you’re not used to dangerous missions.”
“Dangerous, yes! But not this.”
“Not what?”
He waved a hand. “Do you know what I did last night?” Too late, he realized he’d opened a door he wanted to remain shut.
Her eyes went wide. “Something totally off the charts if the tone of your voice is any indication.”
“Yeah, well... you could say that.”
“What?” She held her hands out, imploring. “I’m your sister. You have to tell me.”
He paused. “You’ve heard of phone sex?”
“You called and talked dirty to her?”
He ignored that. “The point is that the participants can’t see each other. Let’s just say I took that to a whole ‘nother level.”
Remarkably, her eyes got even wider. “You didn’t.”
“I couldn’t help myself. She’s... amazing.” He slammed his mug down on the table and stood up, totally frustrated with himself and the situation. “I told you I’m bewitched. I’m doing crazy things.”
Zoë shook her head. “What’s really driving you insane is feeling this way... and about a mortal.” She leaned back in her chair, her grin totally self-satisfied. And she didn’t look the least bit sorry for him. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes!” The answer burst out of him. The whole thing frustrated him. That Tracy was mortal. That he desired her because of some ancient trinket. Hale wasn’t one to buckle under to any sort of pressure. And now to have been bested by some fashion accessory ... well, that really reeked. The only good thing was that at least it wasn’t really him liking her. It was the belt. This was a curse. An enchantment. But it was better to be under a spell than to have fallen for a mortal.
Zoë laughed, the sound light and airy. “Oh, I wish Taylor were home to see this. And Daddy. You and a mortal. It’s priceless!”
Hale scowled. Their father was hopelessly in love with Zoë‘s mom, Tessa. And that woman was as mortal as they came. “How much longer are you going to keep teasing me before you decide to help?”
She glanced at her unadorned wrist as if it had a watch. “Dunno. Maybe five or six more minutes.”
He rubbed his temples, thinking that maybe it would have been a good idea to catch some sleep after all. A clear head was a requirement for tussling with Zoë. When he looked up, she was grinning.
“Would you stop it? This is serious. I’m in charge of this mission, and I’ve reached critical mass here.”
With obvious effort, she managed to pull her features back into some semblance of control. “You’re right. It is serious.”
“Thank you. Finally.”
“But it’s not serious in the way you think it is.” She paused, her lips pressed together.
Hale wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I’m already under the spell of an ugly belt that’s making me do irrational, stupid things. What could possibly be worse?”
He spoke lightly, but she didn’t seem to notice the levity. She didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ve been doing some research. You know, on the Net and with some books I got from the MLO. Fascinating stuff. Did you know that in the fifteenth century, the girdle—”
“Just spill it.” Enough, already. “Whatever you’re trying to say, just spit it out.”
“Okay. But, remember—you asked me to.” She took a deep breath, then looked him straight in the eye. “I gotta say, I’m getting a perverse sense of pleasure telling you this.”
“Telling me what?”
“You’re not under any spell, big brother.”
“Of course I am,” he said. Then he had the hideous feeling he knew what was coming. “I told you—”
“And I’m telling you. I’ve looked into this. No spell, Hale. Sorry.”
He opened his mouth to argue some more, but couldn’t quite form the words. He wanted to deny it, to yell that it wasn’t true. But in fact, he’d been avoiding the truth. He’d been messing around with Tracy and she hadn’t been wearing the belt. He’d known. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
Now he had no choice.
“A mortal wearing the belt has no power over a Protector,” Zoë explained. A devious grin touched her lips, and he knew she was enjoying this. “So, it looks like there’s a mortal woman in your life, and you’re fresh out of excuses.”



Mordichai perched on the windowsill of Zoë‘s kitchen window, looking in while she and Hale had cocoa. So far, all he’d seen was Hale wandering around looking agitated and Zoë looking smug. Unfortunately, neither was talking loud enough for him to hear anything.
He considered pressing himself to the window, but at the moment he was a red-breasted sapsucker, and while he might have a nice set of tail feathers, his hearing wasn’t as good as he might have hoped.
And if he tried to get closer, Zoë or Hale might notice him. A mortal would never be able to spot him, but his cousins certainly could. And anyone would think an eavesdropping bird pressed to the glass was odd.
Still, everything was okay. Just by being here, he’d learned what he needed to know. Hale was with Zoë and not with Tracy.
Now was his chance.
He thought about the slim brunette, wondering about the best way to get close to her. Yesterday when he’d perched on her trailer, the girl had been talking to that dust mop she called a dog. If she talked to one dog, why not another? Especially if the new dog was a stately, refined canine who whined and licked her face at all the appropriate intervals. Maybe a beagle. Or a Labrador.
No. His tail feathers twitched as he thought of the perfect dog: a collie. Mordichai was no Lassie, but he could do a damn fine impression.
His feathers ruffled as he considered his plan. First he’d be man’s—or woman’s—best friend. He’d learn what he could this morning. And then this evening he’d be the man of her dreams. A man who understood her needs and desires, almost as if she’d told him herself.



She’d forgotten to set her alarm, so Tracy didn’t wake up until about noon. She hated getting such a late start, but the reason was worth it.
As she snuggled back in bed, she remembered just how worth it. Last night she’d had the most amazing fantasy of her life. Amazing, that is, until it had fizzled at the end, leaving her teetering on the brink and totally frustrated. For reasons she didn’t quite grasp, the fantasy had lost a lot of its oomph.
Who would have thought that one’s imagination could be just as fickle as some men?
Well, imagined or no, last night had whetted her appetite for the real thing. That was for sure.
Realization bopped her on the head and she sat bolt upright. The real thing! Hale was taking her out tonight. She needed clothes. Shoes. Help. She needed help. And she knew just the person to help her—Hale’s sister, Zoë.
Her date with Leon had been a disaster, and she didn’t intend to watch history repeat itself. Now, with a plan, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of ratty sweats and a T-shirt. As she was heading out and downstairs to the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like a cross between a homeless person and a teenager in a grunge band.
She had no plans to bump into Hale, but you never know. And she certainly didn’t want him to see her like this. First she headed into the bathroom and did the whole makeup-and-hair thing. Not that it made a huge improvement, but at least she wouldn’t scare people in public. Then she headed to her closet with an eye to finding something casual yet fun and flirty. She began rummaging through her not-so-stellar collection of outfits. Boring. Boring. Dull. Boring. Needs ironing. A-ha!
A little red sundress she’d picked up from a studio resale shop. Someone had worn it on The Young and the Restless, and now it was Tracy’s turn. Apropos, considering how restless she’d felt last night.
As soon as she’d slipped it over her head and zipped up the back, she remembered why she hadn’t worn it before. The waistband was just a little too big. Well, darn. She was heading to her dresser to find a belt when she remembered her grandmother’s, still hanging on the back of the chaise where she’d left it last night.
For a second, she just scowled at it, wondering. Maybe she should have worn it for her date with Leon. Maybe if she had, he wouldn’t have been such a prick.
Or maybe he would still have been a prick, but she’d have had the confidence to respond coolly and reasonably, instead of bursting into tears in the foyer. She had no idea which was more likely, but she did know that the belt really did give her a shot of confidence, and she’d been sorely lacking in that last night.
So what if it was becoming a crutch? Some women wouldn’t leave the house without mascara. From now on, she wouldn’t leave without this belt.
Snapping it on, she assessed herself one last time in the mirror. Fortunately, the belt matched the dress perfectly, its gold color complementing nicely the little yellow flowers that dotted the red material.
She ran a brush through her hair—there wasn’t much more she could do without a blowtorch and concrete— then headed to the kitchen to make coffee and a phone call. Hopefully, Zoë would be home and willing to help her.
She was in luck; Hale’s sister answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?” she asked, as soon as Tracy identified herself.
“I need your help,” Tracy said. “Your brother’s coming over tonight, and—”
“You haven’t got a thing to wear,” Zoë finished for her. Then she laughed.
“Exactly. And ... well... you don’t know this, but my guy IQ is in the bottom percentile. I’m hopeless.”
“I doubt you’re that bad.”
“Trust me, I am,” Tracy said. “So will you help me with the clothes? And anything else you can think of? I don’t want to blow it with your brother like I did last night.”
The girl on the other end of the line paused. “I’d love to help you, but I’m not exactly an expert. If you’re bad, I’m ... well, worse. But my friend Deena...” Zoë drifted off. “Yeah. Let me send my friends Deena and Lane to help you out.”
“Are you sure?” Tracy wasn’t completely certain she wanted to go shopping with perfect strangers.
“Oh, yeah. If anyone can pull together an outfit, Deena can.”
“Well...”
“Trust me,” Zoë said. “You couldn’t find better help if you paid for it.”
Tracy sucked in a breath. Why not. She didn’t know Zoë well, but she trusted her. “Okay. If you say so. But do you think they’ll want to help?”
Zoë laughed. “Honey, if the object is to dress you up so that my brother Hale is prostrate with lust, well, that’s one project they would never want to miss out on.”