Betting on Bear (Charmed in Vegas Book 6) Page 3

  “I’m not sure I can give that out,” the woman stammered.

  “I’m his wife.” Krena’s voice cracked on the last word. “You should be able to give me his address.”

  Pursing her lips, the woman looked Krena over, top to bottom. She shook her head. “Very irregular.” But she sat down in front of an ancient computer and typed away at the keys. A moment later, they heard a dot matrix printer cranking out a document. The woman went into another room and returned with a piece of paper and handed it to Krena. “Here you go, dear. For what it’s worth, you look very happy in the photos. You might consider giving him a chance before kicking him to the curb.” She glanced at Hardiman and sniffed.

  So she didn’t like him. So what. He didn’t like her suggesting Krena keep her new husband.

  Krena looked at the piece of paper. “Daniel Gordon.”

  Hardiman put his hand on Krena’s back and steered her out of the building.

  “His name doesn’t sound familiar,” she said. “And he lives right here in Vegas. So how would I have met him?”

  When they reached the parking lot, he left his hand on her lower back. She wasn’t pulling away, and if she wasn’t pulling away, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let go. “You can look him up on my laptop while we drive to his place.

  “I can’t believe I’m married,” she said. “I would never do that. I mean—like that. What’s wrong with me?”

  He flexed his fingers against her, rubbing his thumb down her spine. Part of him reeled that he was actually getting to touch her. “Somebody put a spell on you—literally. We’ll get it all figured out. Don’t worry. I won’t let you stay married to that guy.” Only after he’d said the words did he realize his voice had dropped to a growl.

  She spun toward him and his hand fell away from her back. He almost groaned. “You won’t let me?” she said.

  On the plus side, his mate was back to her old self. On the minus side, he’d really liked that she’d let him get closer to her and it sucked that had to stop. “If that’s what you want. You don’t seem to want to be married to him.” He itched to touch her again. Didn’t matter where. He’d be in heaven if she’d let him hold her hand.

  They strode across the street toward his car as she stewed. “Don’t try to ‘handle’ me, Hardiman. I don’t like to be handled.”

  “Shame.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.

  She stopped cold. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He reached the car before she started walking again, rounding to the passenger side while giving him a wary look.

  “You’re acting really strange today. You sure you didn’t get spelled too?”

  He slid into the driver’s seat as she got in on the other side. “How am I different?”

  “You’re…” She waved her hand as though willing the words to appear. “Nice.”

  Was he usually that much of a jerk? “I’m nice.”

  “You growl a lot. And you glower. You glare. None of that is nice.”

  “Fine.” He punched Krena’s husband’s address into his GPS app on his phone. Once the robotic lady started spitting out the directions, he pulled away from the curb.

  “That’s it? Fine?” She pulled his department laptop in her direction. He assumed she was going to look up Gordon.

  “What do you expect me to say?” He wound his way through back streets.

  “Make a U-turn,” the GPS said.

  Hardiman ignored the GPS. No way did he want to drive down the Strip when he could take a back road instead.

  “I don’t know. Like—explain why you’re nice today when you’re usually not.”

  What did Naya expect? He couldn’t very well tell her being around her made him nervous and stupid at the same time that he was hornier than hell. How was any man supposed to keep his wits about him when he felt like that? “I’m the same as I always am.” And that was the truth, whether it seemed that way to her or not.

  “Make a U-turn,” the GPS said.

  She slumped back into her seat with a huge sigh. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

  “Any idea how you would have met this guy? He’s in Vegas. You’re not. Is he a cop?”

  “Not according to your computer. He’s got no record, nothing. And no, I have no idea how I would have met him. I avoid Vegas like the plague.”

  He was saved from having to say anything more by the GPS. “You’ve arrived at your destination.”

  Their ‘destination’ was an apartment building on a street full of similar apartment buildings. He found them a parking spot and they hiked back to the door then hunted for the correct apartment number. Naya pressed the button.

  A second later, her husband’s face appeared on the tiny screen, his black hair messy in a way it hadn’t been in the photos. “Oh, look! It’s Naya. Come on up!” He didn’t wait for an answer. A loud buzz sounded, and the lock on the door popped open. Krena grabbed the door.

  “At least he knows you,” Hardiman grumbled. Though it wasn’t surprising. No way could any man could forget Naya Krena. Something about the man seemed off, though. Wouldn’t he wonder where his wife had gone? Shouldn’t he have said, “there you are” or “where have you been” instead of “oh, look?”

  The entryway of the building had an elevator to the right and stairs to the left. Krena’s husband’s apartment number was 206, so the two of them headed up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, it wasn’t hard to find the right door—the mystery husband was hanging out of it, waving at them.

  He shouldn’t call him that. The guy had a name. But Hardiman could think of several other things he’d rather call him. It didn’t help that Gordon looked like Hardiman’s opposite. Where Hardiman was big and beefy, Gordon was thin and short. Where Hardiman glared and scowled, Gordon wore an easy smile on his tan face.

  If Gordon touched Krena, Hardiman would kill him. He wouldn’t even have to think about it. His bear was already so close to the surface it was a miracle he hadn’t already charged the man and torn him to pieces.

  When they got closer, Gordon said, “It’s so good to see you again! How’d you find us?”

  Something wasn’t right.

  Then another head popped out of the apartment’s door and things started to click into place. The woman standing next to Gordon was a dead-ringer for Krena. They could’ve been twins. Same long brown hair, same chocolatey brown eyes, same deliciously curvy yet strong body.

  Hardiman had to be sure he understood this right. “You married her?” He motioned toward the woman. “You married her, not Krena?”

  Gordon’s forehead crinkled. “Of course. Naya knows that.”

  Hardiman felt the relief all the way to his toes. His mate was free. She didn’t belong to anyone else.

  Now he had to figure out how to make her his.

  Gordon must have seen Krena’s confusion. “You remember the mix-up last night?”

  She pressed her lips into a straight line. “No. I don’t remember anything about last night. You’re saying you saw me?”

  The couple exchanged glances. “Of course,” the woman said. Her voice sounded only vaguely like Krena’s, but higher, and the difference made Hardiman feel better. “Why don’t you come in?”

  Chapter 4

  Naya’s head was reeling. The woman in front of her looked so similar, Naya could have been standing in front of a mirror. How did something like that happen?

  “I’m sorry.” Naya pulled herself together. “We were told your husband’s name but not yours.”

  The woman smiled. “Angelique Renou.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you again.”

  Angelique and Daniel—Dan?—led them into a small living room crammed full of colorful, if threadbare, furniture. They sat down on the couch and chairs centered around a small glass-topped coffee table. “Now tell us what’s going on,” Dan said.

  Naya quickly introduced Hardiman then told them what she remembered since getting up that morning, all the way to the chapel of lo
ve. “So that’s why we’re here. It sounds like you saw me last night. What was I doing? Was anyone with me?”

  Angelique leaned forward a little. “My bridesmaids saw you behind the theater where I work.” She motioned to Naya. “As you can imagine, they assumed you were me. They pulled you into their car and brought you to the chapel. As I understand, you didn’t put up a fight.”

  She paused, and her husband took over. “Angelique was already at the chapel with me. The bridesmaids got quite a surprise when you all arrived and they saw Angelique.”

  Angelique leaned forward. “You told us someone was after you and thanked us for getting you away quickly. That was why you didn’t say anything when my friends grabbed you. But you wouldn’t give us any more details than that.”

  “Except you asked if Angelique was a naiad. We both thought that was odd.”

  Naya shrugged. “I probably asked because of the similarity between us. What was your answer?”

  Angelique’s mouth dropped open. “No, I’m not. Does that mean you are?”

  “Yes. Well—half. And half human. That’s why I’m not tied to my fountain.”

  “I see,” Angelique said. She leaned forward, her gaze on Naya.

  Naya didn’t want to talk about being a naiad. “What else? Did I stick around? Do you know where I went after I left you?”

  “You said you had to get going,” Dan said. “Then you went across the street—”

  “To the magic shop,” Hardiman said. “What time was all this?”

  Angelique touched her finger to her lips, displaying her perfectly manicured pink nails. “Our wedding was at three in the morning, so it must have been like two fifteen when my bridesmaids found you and around half an hour later that you left us to go to the magic shop. We invited you to stay for the wedding, but you seemed agitated and said there was something you had to do.”

  “Oh, and then there were your clothes and hair,” Dan said. “You were dripping wet, head to toe.”

  Angelique laughed. “You gave my bridesmaids a heart attack when they thought you were me. I was supposed to be dressed and ready by then, not drenched. They were so happy when they realized the mix-up.”

  At least a few pieces were coming together. “That explains why my clothes seemed like they’d dried from being wet.” And she wouldn’t even mention the state of her hair.

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Hardiman said.

  “That’s why I showered—” The look in his eyes stopped her cold. They burned. He looked like he wanted to eat her up.

  “You could have said that this morning.” His voice was a low growl.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” The words sounded soft and hollow. She couldn’t get over the way he was looking at her. Almost like—almost like he liked her.

  “You should have told me.” His voice had dropped too, and coupled with the look in his eyes, sounded all too intimate.

  A shiver went through her, that achy feeling returning with a vengeance.

  Dan cleared his throat. “I hate to kick you guys out, but we actually have to leave soon. There’s this party…”

  Naya stood. “No problem. I’m sorry to take up your time, especially when you’re newlyweds.”

  Everyone else stood as well. Angelique put her hand on Naya’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re giving us a fabulous story to tell our grandkids.”

  They all laughed, but Naya couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was going on with Hardiman. What was it? And did she want it?

  “One last thing,” Hardiman said. “Where’s the theater where you work? We want to go there and see if they remember why Naya was there last night.”

  “It’s at—” Angelique raised her hand in the air. “You know, I can do one better.” She hurried across the room to a small desk. After shuffling a couple of papers, she returned and handed Hardiman a flyer. “The address is on the bottom.”

  Gazing at the glossy trifold flyer, he said, “Can I keep this?”

  “Of course.” Angelique smiled. “And if you want to come to a show, let me know. I can get you a discount—and I should let everyone know, so they don’t think Naya is me.”

  “That could be interesting,” Naya said. “People escorting me backstage and shoving me into costumes, thinking I’m you.”

  As they laughed yet again, the four of them moved toward the door.

  “Congratulations, you two,” Naya said. “And thanks so much for your help.”

  They all said goodbye, and a few minutes later, Naya and Hardiman were walking down the stairs and out of the building.

  “Now we go to the theater,” Hardiman said.

  “What a nightmare. Do you think we’ll ever figure out what happened to me last night?”

  “And what happened to Sneezy. Don’t forget him.”

  She was trying to. But how could she forget the felon whose disappearance was about to ruin her career? “And Sneezy, of course.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Krena. Don’t worry.”

  “How can I do anything else?”

  He clapped his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. We’re going to figure it out and get Sneezy back and then everything will be okay.”

  That warm, achy feeling spread from where his hand touched her. It felt good; it made her want to lean into him, to get more. But it was wrong. She didn’t know what was going on with Hardiman, but she couldn’t go leaning on him or enjoying his casual touches. It would only lead to trouble.

  She stepped away from him and his hand fell away. “Hopefully you’re right.”

  They made their way to the address Angelique had given them. Hardiman parked in front and they got out. “Let’s walk down the alley to the back. She said they picked you up back there. Maybe there’s a clue—or maybe seeing it will jog your memory.”

  Naya wasn’t so sure about her memory; so far not a single thing had shaken loose. But she hoped he was right about finding a clue.

  Only a few pedestrians were out, even though it was almost noon, and most of them seemed to be concentrated in front of the restaurant to the right of the theater.

  They turned the other direction, toward the alleyway between the theater and a club on the other side.

  Half a block away, a tall, heavyset man lounged against a car in front of the club. He looked up and down the sidewalk, and when he spotted Naya and Hardiman, he jerked upright. He reached into the open window of the car, grabbed something, then started running in their direction.

  What the hell? It looked like he was coming right for them. But why? And what did he get out of the car?

  His hand was pumping as he ran, but it didn’t take more than a second for her to discern the golden-hued strands of a binding cord.

  Rage flashed through her. Binding cords were used to trap naiads and hold them as slaves.

  Naya yanked her gun out of its holster and took a bead on the man racing toward them. She’d match his binding cord with a bullet.

  ***

  When Hardiman saw the man running at them then saw Krena pull her weapon, he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward—out of range of Krena’s gun—and got ready to intercept the man before he could get to her.

  “Stop!” Krena yelled. “Police!”

  The man didn’t even slow down. When he got close to Hardiman, he swerved to avoid him, as though the huge bear shifter were little more than a tree in his path.

  Hardiman reached out and grabbed the man, pulling him into a bear hug and pinning his arms to his sides.

  The man howled. “Let me go! She’s going to get away!”

  Hardiman squeezed a little harder. “Are you talking about my—” He almost said ‘mate.’ “—friend?”

  “The naiad,” the man hissed. “Don’t let her get away.”

  Krena walked to them and put the muzzle of her gun against the man’s chest. “Drop the binding cord or I’ll put a bullet through your heart.”


  “Krena.” Hardiman couldn’t believe she’d said that. He’d never seen her act less than professional before, even when she was acting nuts.

  “Drop it,” she repeated.

  The man moaned but he must have dropped the cord because Krena stepped backward a few steps and fired at the pavement. Hardiman twisted to see the cord spark and flame as the bullet split it in two.

  “You couldn’t have just cut it?” Hardiman said. “We’re going to catch hell for you discharging your weapon.”

  “I can’t touch it. But I couldn’t let its magic continue.” Her eyes met his. “You know what that is, right? It’s a binding cord, the only way a naiad can be chained and held against her will.” She stepped closer, her weapon pointed at the ground. “This man wanted to enslave me.”

  Hardiman roared. A flash of anger bigger and stronger than anything he’d ever felt before burned through him. Without a thought, he squeezed the man harder, until the man started to scream.

  Then Krena’s hands were on his face and her soft words penetrated. “Hardiman. Calm down. You’re hurting him. You have to let him go. Listen to me, Hardiman.”

  With a noise of disgust, Hardiman dropped the man into a pile of bones and flesh on the sidewalk and took two steps back. Krena immediately fell on the man, twisting his arms behind his back and snapping her cuffs around his wrists. She recited his Miranda rights then left him lying on his face on the sidewalk.

  She approached Hardiman with her hands wide and to her sides. “You all right?”

  He nodded. He still hadn’t quite gotten his breath back. The man had wanted to enslave his mate. It was all Hardiman could do to keep from ripping him limb from limb.

  “We need to call this in,” she said.

  He nodded again, his eyes on the bastard. Having that man so close to Krena felt wrong. Hardiman took her by the arm and moved her to the other side of him, so he stood between her and the man who’d wanted to capture her. He kept his eyes on the man.

  “I mean you, Hardiman. You need to call this in. This isn’t my jurisdiction. What’s with you?”

  “He meant to hurt you.” The low, guttural tone and the fact that his elongated teeth made enunciation difficult let Hardiman know his bear wasn’t as in control as he might think.