Hero Unmasked: 3 (Heroes of Saturn) (4 page)

How is it she knew this man was attractive, yet so little else about his appearance. Oh-ho!

If Amaryllis had been there, she would have smacked him in the head and shouted one of her favorite American colloquialisms, “Well, duh.”

“It’s the Chameleon, isn’t it?” he asked, half afraid to hope.

The pink flush racing across her cheeks was his answer. She busied herself by untying the apron around her waist and hanging it on its designated peg, arranging the fabric until it fell to her precise specifications.

Why hadn’t he realized her desire for his alter ego had gone behind simple lustful appreciation? This was good. Maybe not exactly as he planned, but he could make this work in his favor.

“I can see why you find him interesting. I think most of the women in this town think he’s fascinating.”

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered.

He leaned against the butcher block table with feigned casualness. “So what is it about him that keeps you up at nights? How do you know he’s worth your affections?”

“Are you kidding?” She continued to look away as she pulled on her coat and gathered her purse. “He’s kind and compassionate. He takes action when needed but he can take direction too, you know, from the sheriff or the fire captain, which means he’s willing to work with others. He’s humble, well, most of the time. Lately…” She frowned and shook her head.

What? What? “Lately…” he repeated.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like lately he’s been a bit showy.”

Alarm straightened his spine. “Showy? I do not know this word.”

“Like showboating. Showing off his talents for attention. He used to appear on the scene, do his thing and then leave with a little wave once the day was saved. But recently I’ve noticed he amps up the applause, egging on the crowd. Kind of like he’s getting off on the attention.”

“Is that wrong? Maybe he thinks the people want more of him.”

“What more could they want? He risks his life for them all the time. I like him when he’s humble. Like today.”

Mental note—don’t sign autographs. “If you are interested in him, why don’t you let him know?”

She burst out laughing as she opened the back door and waited for him to exit before locking it shut. “Yeah, like I know where he lives or hangs out. And as you’ve said, he has a lot of admirers. Trust me, the interest will only be one-sided.”

“You don’t know that. I’m interested in you. Please go out with me this weekend?”

Over their heads a streetlamp flickered, casting half her face in shadow. She took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, billowy cloud. “I can’t. Look, thank you for asking, but I’m very aware of who I am. I’m the stay-at-home-with-a-good-book kind of girl and you’re adrenaline and adventure. I’d bore you to tears. Guys like you don’t have happily-ever-afters with girls like me.” Her voice cracked and she looked away as a shimmer glistened in her eyes. “Thank you for walking me to my car. Have a good night, Office Kilsgaard.”

As she raced the few steps to her vehicle, a sharp ache filled the spot in his chest between his two hearts. Now he understood. She didn’t think she was worthy. The fear she harbored of being hurt reached out like a mystical hand to tighten around his throat. With his powers he picked up the incessant warning for her to hold her desires in check. If she didn’t go after what she wanted, she wouldn’t get hurt.

What had happened in her past to give her such a low opinion of herself? Nothing in his conversations with her aunt indicated a great heartache in Fiona’s life, but something had made an impression.

After a quick glance around to ensure he was alone, he shimmied up the lamppost and adjusted the flickering light to constantly illuminate the parking area, then jumped down with thoughts of Fiona racing through his mind.

He needed a new approach to get her to take a chance on them. Words were only words, but actions spoke volumes.

A smile stretched his lips as a plan took shape. She may not listen to him, but there was one person she would most definitely believe.

“Earth to Fiona.” Mags clapped her hands in front of Fiona’s nose. “You’ve washed that rack of dishes three times now.”

“Oh geez.” Fiona pulled on the arm of the industrial dishwasher and slid out the steaming tray full of mixing bowls and spatulas. The hot metal scorched her fingertips as she put them away.

“You’ve been spacey all day. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, just been thinking.”

Contemplating was more like it. The previous night’s conversation with Officer Kilsgaard wouldn’t let her rest. Instead of a peaceful night’s sleep, her imagination kept her awake with thoughts of painting his chest in caramel and licking him clean.

It had been easier to not think of him in a sexual way when she knew she had no chance of gaining his interest. But now, oh now, there was the possibility and never was there a more dangerous concept. Possibilities meant there was hope and hope could be doused as quickly as a match under a waterfall.

Was she completely insane turning down his eloquent request for a date? Really, what was the worst that could happen?

Well, she could fall in love with him, begin making plans for the future then have him dump her, leaving her as the newest Janice Harbinger of Cedar. Lovely.

Mags hung up her apron and reached for her coat. “Fiona, honey, do you want to talk about it?”

Yeah, like that was a brilliant idea. Not. Mags was already moody because Officer Kilsgaard hadn’t asked her out the day before. This particular can of worms was best left sealed tightly closed.

“No, I’m good, really. Thanks for asking. Hey, can you take that box of unsold cookies by the fire station on your way home? If it’s not a bother.”

She snorted a short laugh. “Are you kidding? It will be my pleasure. Do you know how popular I’ll be taking sweets to those hunky guys? Maybe I’ll leave with a date.”

“How do you do it?” Fiona couldn’t help to ask. “I mean, how can you just put yourself out there like that with men? Doesn’t it suck being heartbroken?”

Mags paused with her scarf in her hand. She slowly wound it around her neck as her eyes flickered with thought. “Yeah, it sucks, but at least I tried. I don’t know. I like being in a relationship. Maybe I like it too much, which would explain why I keep going after the wrong guys. I settle for the next one instead of waiting for the right one. Men are like shoes. They may look great on the shelf, but until you try them on, you don’t know if they’ll make you look great or break your ankle if you take the wrong step.”

“That makes too much sense.” Fiona smiled for the first time that day.

“I do have my moments. But seriously. Men are stupid. Sometimes you have to make the first move or else they’ll sit on their hands forever. Their caveman instinct has been drummed out of them by the feminist movement. Now we have to do everything.”

“Wow, Mags, I wish I was as brave as you.”

“Brave? Me? I’d say I’m more blissfully ignorant. If I think about it too much, I probably would stay home all of the time, wear turtleneck sweaters that go up to my eyeballs and take care of twenty cats. But I don’t like cats, so out into the world I go.”

Well, Fiona didn’t have the cats, but there were a few high-neck sweaters in her closet. Oh God, she was going to become the crazy cat lady.

“Actually, Fiona, I admire how you don’t go out with a bunch of guys. You know what you want and you don’t deviate from that path.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Do you want to take the cookies to the fire station? There are a few new recruits who looked pretty cute.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“No, you can have first pick. Besides, what would I have in common with a young fireman?”

“More than you think, boss lady. You’re a pretty good catch.” She pulled her scarf over the lower portion of her face. “Have a good night.”

“You too. Drive safe.”

Fiona tugged on her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder as she turned off light switches on her way to the door. Could she borrow a page from Mags and take a chance on Officer Kilsgaard? Dhavin. If she was going to entertain the notion of a date, she had to start thinking of him as a man with a first name.

A laugh lodged in her throat and her skin tingled. As if she could forget he was a man.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

Like Mags said, if she thought about the pitfalls, she’d chicken out. Once she got home she’d find his phone number in her client files and give him a call…after a glass, or two, or three, of wine.

As she stepped outside a brisk wind barreled down the alley. Holy geez. She shivered and drew her arms in tight, that was icy. Winter had officially arrived, as much as she tried to ignore the signs of frosted windows and day after day of gray skies. The weather forecast called for a chance of snow. She hated snow. Snow meant bad roads, dented fenders and no customers.

She blew on her palms, tossing her keys from one hand to the other as she minded her steps on the slick asphalt.

“Oh shoot,” she muttered as the keys slipped out of her hand and skidded across the ground.

She crouched down and squinted into the absolute darkness. She reached under the car and felt along the ground blindly. “Come on. Come on.”

“Do you wish to be attacked? You make a tempting target.”

She shot up to a stand and jumped back with a scream as a human figure landed before her in a smooth crouch.

“Sorry,” the man said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“How did you think I’d react?” she snapped and blinked hard to erase the flash of fear from her vision. “Oh my God.”

It was him. The Chameleon. Standing right in front of her. As large as a mountain and with biceps as big as watermelons. He wore his customary uniform of a fitted black long-sleeve shirt that stretched where he bulged, and the ever-present cowl covered his face. Standing so close to his magnificence, she could now make out the scalelike pattern of his tunic. The iridescent material shimmered and flattened as he moved. From far away he was an impressive sight, but in such close proximity he literally struck her dumb.

“Maybe you needed to be frightened.” He took a step closer. “I heard this area might be prone to criminal activity and here I find a delicate young lady alone, in the dark, practically asking to be mugged, or worse. Just what were you doing?”

“I dropped. Keys,” she managed to mumble as she pointed to the car.

His lips quirked a bit with a grin that deepened the dimple near the right corner of his mouth. “May I?”

May he what? Oh. She stepped back and stared at the wide expanse of his back as he bent to retrieve her keys. Man, she could roll out two batches of cinnamon rolls across that much surface. When he straightened, she snapped her mouth closed and prayed there wasn’t drool running down her chin.

“Here you go.” He placed the keys into her palm. The metal was warm from the heat of his hand. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—uh…” Holy crap. What was her name? “I—oh, I’m Fiona. Fiona.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Fiona.” The black fabric around his eyes made the flecks of gold in the honey-brown irises look electrified.

“Brown,” she whispered. What an unusual shade of brown they were too.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His smile broadened. “Fiona. I’ve heard of you. I’m told that to sample your sweets is like tasting a slice of heaven.”

Oh the sweets she wanted him to sample.

She wrenched her mind from the gutter and focused on not continuing her spot-on impersonation of a major idiot. “Thank you. Can I get you anything? I have scone mix all scaled out and can whip up a batch right quick. Or candy. I have lots of chocolate-covered caramels made.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble, but thank you for the offer. I think it’s best to get you in your vehicle and send you safely on your way. It’s too cold of a night to be outside.”

“Why are you out then? And without a coat. Aren’t you freezing?”

“Hold up your hand,” he said with a secret smile that made her heart pound in her chest.

She lifted her hand and held her breath as he pressed his palm to hers. “You’re so warm.” She marveled at the amount of heat his skin generated. It was so toasty, she wanted to step into his arms and wrap him around her like a Snuggie.

“Where I come from is much colder than here. A night like this I consider to be overcast. There are people, like you, who need protection and so I am out to do what I can. But believe me, I’d rather be indoors in front of a fire with a good book and a mug of coffee right now.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“It would be even nicer to have someone to share a blanket with. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?”

“No, I’m single. Very single.”

“That was a trick question. You shouldn’t admit those things to a stranger. What if I meant you harm and you’ve now confirmed no one is waiting for you?”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, but you never know. I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”

“Seriously, I can take care of myself. You’re very overwhelming, and I have to admit, I can’t seem to form a sentence with you standing so close.”

“I’m sorry.” He took a step back.

“No!” She grabbed him by the tunic and hauled him closer. “Your heat feels nice.”

His low chuckle was just as warm. “Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time when we’re not in a dark, cold alley?”

“You want to see me again? I mean, not see me, see me, but see me?”

“Ah, Fiona, you make me laugh.” He trailed the tip of his finger down her cheek and along her jaw. “You’re like a cloud of cotton candy on a rainy day. Light, sweet and happy. I think you may be just what I’ve been looking for.”

Her breath caught as the hot pad of his thumb brushed along her skin and skimmed her lower lip. His gorgeous eyes blurred in and out of focus as she swayed on her feet.

“Breathe, Fiona,” he whispered.

“What?” She sucked in a cold breath. “Right. I’m all right.”

He chuckled and took the keys from her hand to unlock the car door. “Let’s get you inside and on your way. We’ll meet again. I promise.”

If she were smooth, she would have taken extra care to brush up against him. But she wasn’t. She barely managed to take the few steps around the door and fall hard into the driver’s seat.

“Thanks,” she said as she regained possession of her keys.

“Good night, sweet Fiona.” He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a scorching kiss against her knuckles and an answering burning ignited between her thighs.

Sweet. He called her sweet. She wanted to giggle, but stopped short of following the foolish reaction. “Good night, Chameleon.”

He straightened with a sharp jerk. “Please, call me…Cam.”

“Cam.” Nicknames already. She loved it. “Take care of yourself as well.”

He shut the door and waved as she pulled out of the parking space. In the rearview mirror he was a mythical figure, tall and imposing as he stood under the lamplight with tiny stars sparking off his tunic.

She kept her gaze on him until she was forced to turn the corner. Only then did her lungs begin to function properly and all of the blood rushed to her cheeks.

He wanted to see her again. Her. Fiona Corrione.

The little voice in the back of her mind whispered that this nice-guy routine might be his MO in bagging gullible women, but her heart whipped the notion into submission. She never heard of anyone being on a first-name basis with him. He had to be genuine.

The peal of laughter she tried to squelch burst forth. He wanted to see her!

Oh, there was so much to do. A haircut was first and foremost in order. Maybe she should pick up a good facial scrub at the store before heading home.

The snick of a memory dampened her excitement. Wasn’t she supposed to do something when she got home?

Right, she was going to call someone, but dang if she could remember who or what for.

She shrugged. It must not have been too important.

* * * * *

She wanted him.

Dhavin ran through the forest with light steps, leaping into the air to slap a jubilant high-five at the drippy tree branches.

Fiona wanted him. Well, not him specifically, but a part of him. She talked with him, smiled, trembled—she actually trembled when he held her hand. The lingering effects of her arousal still swirled through his mind, and his skin buzzed as if covered with a low-volt current.

A teeny-tiny part of his conscience itched at the dishonesty of his appearance in her life, but he’d take whatever he could get. If things between them worked out while under the guise of the Chameleon, then he’d explain everything, and she would be so in love with him it wouldn’t matter that they met in slightly less than honest circumstances.

Love?

The thought made him slow to a stop. Was he already thinking of sentiments so profound? Yes, Fiona interested him like no other woman and the idea of having a wife tickled his conscience more and more every day, but entertaining the notion was entirely different than actively pursuing a mate. And tonight was the first time Fiona looked at him with something besides wariness. Love was a monumental leap from infatuation, and for a Skandavian, encompassed more than humans experienced. To meld his emotions with Fiona, he’d be entrusting her with all his secrets, as would she with him, whether she knew it or not.