Geomancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 5) - Page 48

They stopped at the unit next to Juan’s.

“I had to move a few of the guests around,” he said. “This is your new accommodation.”

“I could’ve stayed in the hut,” she said meekly.

His expression darkened. “Not now that we’re getting engaged.”

“E–engaged?”

“I’ve ordered the ring. We’ll have it when we get back to Cartagena.” He touched her hair. “Between now and then, there’s much you need to learn about me.” He opened the door and motioned for her to enter.

Whereas Juan stayed in one of the duplex units, this one was a one-story building with a sea-facing patio. He followed her into the lounge. Not knowing what to do, she stopped in the center of the room, praying he’d say goodnight and leave.

Her anxiety spiked when Juan dismissed the guards.

“Where do they sleep?” she asked, her voice thin.

She kicked off the too-small shoes. Not only could she not stand in them for a second longer, but she also didn’t want to play dress up so that Juan could pretend she was a woman who’d long since been dead.

Juan removed his jacket and walked to a wet bar. He poured amber liquid from a decanter into a crystal glass. “Two units down.” He lifted the tumbler. “Drink?”

“No, thanks.” She wrung her hands together behind her back, trying hard not to fidget. “I don’t really drink.”

He crossed the floor and cupped her cheek. “No, you don’t.”

“It’s been a tiring day.” She forced a laugh. “I’m exhausted.”

When he took her hand and led her down the hallway, her heart started beating like a runaway horse. They stopped in front of the first door on the right. He gripped the frame above him with one hand and braced his shoulder on the side. “Go on.” Sipping his drink, he watched her.

Her hand trembled as she opened the door to a small bedroom with a sea view. Sliding doors opened onto a patio. A double bed and a dresser took up most of the space. A big fruit basket wrapped in cellophane stood on the dresser.

He motioned at the basket. “I didn’t know if you preferred chocolates, but fruit is healthier.”

“Thanks.” She added uncertainly, “That was thoughtful.”

“Unfortunately the bathroom isn’t en-suite. It’s down the hall.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Good night, Marina.” He leaned in for a kiss.

Asia froze. He looked at her with expectation. Maybe this was how he kissed his first wife on their first date. What if she disappointed him? What if he tried more than a kiss? What if he became disillusioned with her, realizing she was Asia Sommer, a massage therapist who only wanted to live a normal, debt-free life?

None of her concerns mattered, because she couldn’t even kiss him to start with. She was going to push him away. Before she could act, he took the choice from her hands by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was quick and dry. His breath smelled like whiskey and his skin like the spicy fragrance of male cologne.

“Go to bed,” he said.

“In a minute. I first need to use the bathroom.”

His gaze traveled over her. “I’m next door if you need me. I’ll leave a guard by your door.”

“That’s good to know.”

He didn’t move, so she had to push past him to get through the door. His eyes burned on her back as she made her way to the end of the hall where she presumed the bathroom to be.

“Take your time,” he called after her. “I’ll let myself out.”

She paused with her hand on the knob, trying to think of an appropriate reply. “Thank you?”

It took all her willpower not to slam the door behind her in her rush to lock it. She closed it with a soft click only to discover that there was no lock. For all the calmness she outwardly showed, she shook inside. She couldn’t tear out of the dress quickly enough. She threw it into the laundry basket and removed her panties, the only garment that belonged to her.

Someone had unpacked her toiletries in the bathroom. She took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. She was in such a hurry to escape Juan, she hadn’t thought about bringing clothes to the bathroom. With a towel wrapped around her body, she stepped cautiously into the hallway. The light in the corridor was dimmed. The rest of the unit was dark. She quickly went back to the bedroom and found her clothes in the drawers of the dresser.

She slipped on her cotton pajamas and tiptoed to the door. The key had been removed. A quick investigation confirmed the same for the rest of the unit. Not one of the doors could be locked.

She got into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin even if it was too hot for the comforter. Too wary to sleep, she lay awake, listening for noises, expecting to hear Juan’s footsteps come down the hallway any minute.

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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