Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian Read Online Free Page A

his handsomeness. His face was narrow, his
features sharp and striking. His dark hair was pleasantly
disarrayed, his wide mouth naturally ruddy. She’d never seen skin
as smooth as his on a man, though obviously he could afford regular
spa treatments. A quick survey of her hormones revealed she wasn’t
physically pulled to him—or not so much that she’d notice. All the
same, she couldn’t deny he was easy on the eyes.
    “Good evening,” he said in his strangely
formal yet not accented voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting. Could
you recommend a nearby restaurant that delivers? My master likes
spicy food.”
    His master? The thought that her new
tenants might be a couple had crossed her mind, but not that they
played with whips and chains. Was that why they wanted privacy?
    Elyse struggled not to picture the man before
her in a dog collar. He wore a nice dress shirt. There could be a
leash under it . . . or maybe nipple clamps. She shook the thoughts
from her head. The pair’s personal arrangements absolutely weren’t
her business.
    “Uh,” she said. “There’s a popular Indian
place around the corner. And Szechuan not far from that.”
    “Szechuan,” Joseph repeated as if she’d
confused him.
    “They make tasty Kung Pao chicken.” Normally
she’d have mentioned the restaurant was inexpensive. Chances were
that didn’t matter to a guy who carried stacks of hundreds in a
briefcase. An image flashed into her mind of him opening the
leather case at the register. This wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but
that was begging for trouble.
    “You do have small bills, don’t you?” At
once, she felt stupid for asking. He couldn’t be that naive. Except
the term did seem to stump him.
    “Small bills?”
    “For paying. Like twenties. Or a credit
card.”
    “I have the money you saw,” he said.
    He didn’t appear to be joking—or to
understand how inappropriate paying that way might be. Then again,
how inappropriate was it for her to stick her nose in?
    “Come inside,” she said, giving in to impulse
a second time in as many hours. “I’ve got a couple twenties in my
wallet. You can borrow them and maybe break some bills at a bank
tomorrow.”
    Joseph hesitated before entering unsurely.
“The people at the hotel liked our hundreds.”
    Elyse laughed. “I bet they did.”
    Now that he’d decided to come in, he looked
around. His gaze ran down the living room’s wall of shelves, which
overflowed with books and collectibles. His curiosity was the first
unguarded emotion she recalled seeing on his face.
    “You didn’t decorate our apartment,” he
concluded.
    “No,” she agreed. Spotting her purse on the
worn tufted leather sofa, she grabbed it and dug inside. “This
place is mostly my father and me a little bit. My husband put the
basement suite together.”
    “You husband is a paragon of . . .
restraint.” Joseph so obviously didn’t admire this trait that Elyse
had to hide a smile.
    “My husband is dead,” she said, the words
instantly sobering her.
    Joseph’s face altered, though what thoughts
passed through his mind she couldn’t have guessed. “Forgive me,” he
said, offering a little bow that further concealed his reactions.
“I didn’t mean to cause sadness.”
    Elyse was struck by the thought that this was
a clever man, no matter who he called master . Somewhat to
her dismay, the realization didn’t cause her to dislike him.
    “You couldn’t have known,” she said.
    He bowed again to acknowledge her
forgiveness. When he straightened, his face was calm.
    “I like this place,” he said, actually
seeming sincere. “Your belongings enchant the eyes and the
fragrance is heavenly.”
    “That would be the garlic I’m sautéing.”
    “Ah,” he said. “Garlic is one of God’s finest
creations.”
    He said this so seriously it was funny.
Impulse washed over her again.
    “Look,” she said. “I’m only making spaghetti,
but I’ll have plenty to go around. I’d be happy to have