Geomancist (Seven Forbidden Arts #5) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: BDSM, Crime, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Mafia, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Seven Forbidden Arts Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
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“As you can see, he’s not in,” he said. “However, I’m curious. How do you know so much about me, pussycat?” He gave her a humorless smile. “Are you a stalker?”

The warmth in her eyes evaporated. “I read the article about your Liquid Oscar in the Wine magazine.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry to crush your big ego.”

She definitely had claws. At least that explained how she knew his name and what he did for a living. The publicity was unfortunate. The nomination had been an error, one that hadn’t come from his side. A well-intending Jerry had thought it would be good for their business. Little did he know it could cost Sean his life.

“Well?” she said, arching a brow. “When will Jerry be in?”

He watched her carefully, still not trusting her motives. “Not until tonight.”

“I’ll come back then.”

“You’ll be wasting your time,” he said in a chilly tone. “The premises are not for rent.”

Her icy smile matched his tone. “Maybe you’re uninformed.”

Like hell. “I don’t think so.”

Propping her hands on her hips, she asked, “At what time will he be here?”

“Nine should do it. Shall I give him a message?” he asked pointedly, making it clear she was imposing on his turf and his time.

“Please,” she said sweetly. “Tell him Asia was here and that I’ll come back tonight. And tell him not to offer the contract to anyone else until he’s spoken to me.”

Clenching his jaw, he took a step toward her. “What exactly did Jerry promise you, pussycat? Because I’d hate to see you disappointed.”

Ire sparked in her eyes. “Don’t call me that. It’s objectifying.”

“Is that so?” For some reason, he suddenly felt like playing cat and mouse. “What pet name do you prefer?”

“None.” She pulled herself to her full height. “I’ll be back tonight.”

As she took a step toward the door, he grabbed the ends of her scarf and held her back. “You haven’t told me what Jerry promised you.”

She gripped the fabric, trying to pull it from his grasp. “Let go.”

“Not until you tell me what this is all about.”

Uttering a sigh, she said, “Look, I’m sorry if this means you’re going to lose your job. I understand it can’t be easy. If a spa required a barman, I promise I would’ve worked something out with you. I’m sure there are plenty of bars in town that’ll pay handsomely for your skills.”

His hearing got stuck on lose your job and then it fast-forwarded to spa. “A fucking what?”

If at all possible, her back turned even more rigid. “A spa, where people have beauty and relaxation treatments, in case you don’t grasp the meaning of the word.”

Anger heated his ears. “This is what Jerry agreed to, aye?”

“Not exactly. He’s looking at getting out of his lease, and I’m looking at renting. It’s a win-win for both of us. What I’m doing with the place afterward is really none of his or your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, pussycat,” he said, twisting the scarf ends around his hands and reeling her in. “It’s every bit my business.”

“I refuse to argue with you.” She gave him a haughty look. “I’m leaving, but I will be back tonight. Now, let go of me.”

He did no such thing. “By all means, come back tonight. I’ll even encourage it, but it won’t be for sealing a deal with Jerry. It won’t be for more than a complimentary drink.” He trailed his gaze over her. “Unless you want it to be more.”

With eyes spitting fire, she jerked on her scarf, almost tearing the fabric from his hands. He let the material unwind slowly, taking his time to release her.

Stumbling a step back, she regarded him with disdain. “Are you always such a jerk?”

“And here I thought I was flattering you.” His semi hard-on certainly was.

“To think I was going to ask for your autograph,” she said with a condescending smile before racing across the floor.

“I’ll save you a front seat at the bar,” he called after her.

The minute the door slammed behind her, he rushed upstairs and rummaged through the pockets of his leather jacket for his phone. Once he’d located it, he dialed Jerry’s number, but all he got was voice mail. Forfeiting the much-needed shower, he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his helmet and keys on the way to the door.

Twenty minutes later, he stopped in front of Jerry’s cabin in a cheap harbor location. A note on the door read, Gone fishing. He slammed his hand on the handlebar of his bike. He didn’t know what the deal was with Asia, but giving up the bar was not in the cards, not in his lifetime.

The preparations for the evening kept Sean busy until late afternoon. The stock had to be counted, new orders placed, the cash register balanced, and the expenses and sales captured in Jerry’s dinosaur software accounting program.



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