Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts #8) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Seven Forbidden Arts Series by Charmaine Pauls
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
<<<<456781626>71
Advertisement


He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Sky, why am I here?”

“Because you want to be, or you wouldn’t have come.”

“All right.” He gave her a patient smile. “Why did you give me your card?”

“To let you finish what you started at the club.”

“What may that be?”

She pulled her sweater over her head, revealing a pink lace bra with ribbons and an underwire that pushed her breasts high.

The sight was mesmerizing, no question about that. Her skin was smooth and creamy like milk, and her curves were just right. Her breasts were small but firm, her stomach flat, and her muscles toned.

When she reached for the clasp of the bra behind her back, he caught her arm. “You don’t have to do that.”

Something keen to rejection flashed in her eyes. “You don’t want me?”

“Not unless you want me more, and not when you’re with someone else.”

She uttered a soft laugh. “You’re not the norm, are you?”

“It depends on what your norm is.” He picked up the sweater, lifted her arms, and helped her put the garment back on.

“If you’re not here for sex,” she said, “what do you want?”

“Shall we go out? I haven’t done much sightseeing.”

She studied him for a moment, and then she sat down to pull on her trainers. “What do you want to see?”

“Surprise me.”

They walked a few blocks and stopped in front of a small building with a zoology sign.

“This is my favorite place,” she said, taking his hand and leading him inside.

A small warehouse held shelves stocked with stuffed animals and reptiles in jars. They were the only visitors. He followed as she walked through the aisles, stopping from time to time to study one of the poor dead creatures. It was damn depressing.

“Why do you come here?” he asked.

Her voice carried under the acoustic ceiling. “To be reminded of the living. To give the dead the respect they deserve.”

“I’ll be honest, this isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect? Windmills and tulips?”

“Cheese and beer.”

“That can be arranged.” She flashed him a smile. “Come.”

At the Heineken museum, she made him pay the entrance fee and go through the whole damn boring tour alone. At the end of it, he was happy to find her waiting at the high tables in the tasting area.

“You deserve a hiding,” he teased. “This was torture.”

“Don’t all men love beer?”

“Not the scientific process of making it.” He popped a piece of cheese into her mouth. “You’re a terrible guide.”

“Now that you’ve had your fill of tourism, can we go home and fuck?”

He cupped her cheek. “No.”

“Why do you keep on rejecting me? I know you want to.”

“If I take you home, beautiful, it will be to make love. Besides, I already told you, I won’t touch what belongs to another man.”

She snorted and walked to the exit. When he followed, she put her arm through his and escorted him back into the street. “You’re from Senegal.”

“Did your homework?”

“The French gave you away.”

“I didn’t speak French when we met.”

“You have an accent. The way you roll your R’s is definitely African French.” She looked him up and down. “Then there’s your strong nose and high cheekbones.”

“Are you complimenting me?”

“I don’t have to. You know you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” he said with mock offense. “Is that how you’d describe a man?”

“You know what I mean. What happened to your eye?”

He scratched his head. “You’re very direct, aren’t you?”

“Life is too short to take the long way around questions if you really want the answers.”

“A cynic too.”

“In my profession, can you be anything else?”

“What is your profession?”

“Do you want to know if I’m a whore?”

“I was referring to that thing you did back there at the club.”

“I’m a fortune-teller.”

“Is that how you make your living?”

“Yes.”

“Doumar?”

“Doumar is Doumar.”

“How does it work between you?”

“You heard him. I’m property.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m asking what it means.”

“It means he’s working tonight, and I’m home alone.”

“Sky, stop. Why are you doing this?”

She halted and turned to him. “Because I’m lonely, and I was hoping you’d take care of that for me, just for one night.”

“I’ll do anything for you, but not that.”

“I know you’re a player.”

Giving him her back, she continued on her way.

He quickened his step to catch up. “I appreciate women, but I don’t take my relationships lightly.”

“Have you had many?”

“None.”

She paused again. “Then you can’t speak from experience.”

“No, but I’m speaking from my heart.”

Taking his arm, she pulled him toward a French fries stand. “You’re a romantic.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

After ordering two fries with mayonnaise, she handed him one. “Dinner is on me.”

“That’s against my code of conduct,” he said, taking out his wallet.

She gave him another one of her half-smiles, studying him while he waited for his change.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re very handsome.”

“That’s an improvement on being pretty.”

She touched the diamond stud in his ear. “Why the piercing?”


Advertisement

<<<<456781626>71

Advertisement