Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8)

by Charmaine Pauls

  “Is that bad?”

  “Yes.” She ran her hands over his abdomen, caressing him with her palms. His muscles contracted in response, stirring desires best left dormant. “In a city like this, you can end up dead for asking the right questions.”

  She went on tiptoes, bringing her lips an inch from his. With his occupation, he travelled constantly, enough to have met plenty of women from all walks of life, but never one like her. She called to him like a siren, rendering him brainless with nothing but an awareness of her sweet mouth and sad eyes.

  “Sky…” He’d never touched another man’s woman before. He didn’t want to start now, but she made it damn difficult for him. “I’m only a man.”

  “Yeah.” She brushed their lips together. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  Damn. Damn. He was going to kiss her. He couldn’t help himself. Catching her around the waist, he dipped her to have easier access to her mouth. The taste of that forbidden fruit was worth every ounce of guilt it ignited. She kissed him lightly, but her body rubbed up against his with an underlying urgency that tightened his cock. If he let their embrace continue for one more second, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  With a groan born from frustration, he pulled away, keeping his hands on her waist to prevent her from tripping. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

  She wiped her mouth with the tips of her fingers. “Isn’t that the point of playing?”

  “If I kiss you, Sky, it’s because I want to love your body, and I don’t mean once. I only sleep with a woman I intend on having for more than one night when she’s mine. I don’t share. Do you understand?”

  “If you’re not into sharing, why did you come to the club?”

  “Don’t ask the wrong questions.”

  “I’m asking the right ones.”

  “You’re better off not going there.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No. It’s called caring.”

  “Don’t tell me you care. At least be honest if you’re planning on using me.”

  His body tensed in alarm. Could she know? “Where the hell did that come from?”

  She turned away from him and started up the street.

  He ran to catch up with her. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “I’m a big girl, Mr. Black.”

  “I know that, and I think we’re long past the point of being formal.”

  “Goodnight, Bono.”

  “I’ll say goodnight when I’m damn well ready.”

  She smirked. “Pushy, some?”

  “I need you to read my palm.”

  “No.”

  “I need to know, Sky.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what I don’t need to know about dying.”

  She started walking faster. “It’s not just you. It’s me. Do you think it’s a joyride seeing people’s deaths? Have you stopped to consider what it’s like for me, what you’re asking of me?”

  He grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t think about how it must be for you.”

  The angry lines on her pretty, too young face softened. “Why are you really here? Tell me the truth.”

  He cupped her head. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

  “Don’t.”

  “You asked me for the truth.”

  She pulled free. “Call on me again. I’ll try not to get into your pants if you try not to force me into your future.”

  Dragging her into his future didn’t sound like half a bad idea, but not in the way she’d meant. The revelation came as a surprise. There was something about her feisty sadness and gorgeous strength that had him by the balls. He was in so much fucking trouble. By the time he’d found his bearings, she’d already disappeared into the crowd.

  Fine, beautiful. Run for now.

  There was more to her than what met the eye, and something fishy about her ties to Doumar. Even as he recalled his statement to Cain–that he’d only see her this once–he knew he was going to pay her another visit. And another.

  As he tried to hail down a cab, he noticed a man on the opposite side of the street. He recognized his face. He was one of the security guards from the club. The weapon the man showed as he discreetly lifted the flap of his jacket was an unmistakable threat.

  Chapter Three

  Making sure he wasn’t followed, Bono returned to the base house and relayed what he’d learned, which was nothing.

  Cain rubbed a finger over his chin, contemplating the information Bono had shared. “She gave you nothing of value.”

  Bono tried to ignore the itch that started behind the eye patch. “We were dancing around each other like matadors waving red flags at a bull.”

  “Do you think she’ll crack under your charm?” Maya asked.

  A sense of misplaced pride made his chest swell. “She’s a tough cookie.”

  Joss watched Cain intently. “What do we do? It’s your call.”

  “If she’s not going to divulge information,” Cain replied, “we take her out. The risk of her dealing in Godfrey’s hand is too high.”

  “Whoa.” The forcefulness of Bono’s tone had all eyes turn on him. “Give me another chance. I need more time.”

  Cain’s smile was knowing. “It seems you’re getting emotionally invested, Bono. This is a good time for you to pull out.”

  “No.” He took a step toward the commander. “You got me involved. You owe me a chance.”

  “You said yourself you’re not a fighter.”

  Joss walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “She’s working for the enemy.” Caution slipped into his tone. “There’s only one way this can play out.”

  He shook off the touch. “You don’t know for sure. We only know she’s a puppet for Doumar.”

  “Tell him,” Joss said to Cain.

  After reflecting for a moment, Cain said, “Last month, an American senator who opposed Dimensions Communications visited Amsterdam. One week later, his convoy was ambushed, and he ended up dead. The only people with access to his schedule and route were his secretary and security, and they all passed a polygraph test. Someone betrayed him, someone who knew where he’d be at a specific time and date when he was exposed and vulnerable.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Bono said.

  “I’m not finished. Two weeks later, the Malawian president is murdered when he, in an exceptional moment, leaves his house without guards to walk his dog. This happened just after he denied Dimensions Communications trading access. Needless to say, his successor sold out to Dimensions, for a handsome kickback, no doubt. As it turns out, the president also visited Amsterdam shortly before his assassination.”

  Bono listened to everything with growing dread. “You can’t suspect her of being responsible for those deaths.”

  “Both men visited Doumar’s club,” Joss said.

  “You think she read their palms.”

  Cain gave him a somber look. “We know it. We have footage from the Dutch government drones that surveyed the area. Both men left the club with Miss Val.”

  Something tightened in his chest, squeezing his heart like a vice. “How do you know it’s related to Godfrey?”

  “He owns Dimensions Communications. He’s the only person acquiring communication companies around the world.”

  “With what end?”

  “Control,” Cain said. “We believe he’s developing an app that will be carried to all communication devices via the operating system, stealing information that will give him access to banking details, calls, chat histories, and everything about anything. Imagine the power a man holds with such knowledge. Imagine the manipulation he can practice.”

  The magnitude of it all was staggering. Up to now, he’d never asked about the purpose of the team’s missions. Deep down, he didn’t want to know, because this was the kind of truth he feared. He wanted to deny Sky’s part in it, yet, the circumstances were too suspicious to ignore.

  He
turned to Cain. “What do you want from Sky?”

  “The jackpot will be finding Godfrey,” Cain said. “Even if we do, it won’t change our mission. You know her fate.”

  He inhaled deeply, refusing to think about it. “Let me try with her. I can get you the information you want.”

  “You’re too involved,” Cain said.

  “I’ll keep my emotions in check.” He needed to, or those sad, blue eyes will never have the opportunity to look happy.

  “If you screw up—” Cain started.

  “I’ll be eliminated.” Bono wiped a hand over his face. “Yeah. I know.”

  Cain regarded him from under his eyebrows. “You’re sure you can handle her?”

  “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

  Cain sighed. “I guess you’re right. I owe you a chance.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank me when we’re back in New York and you’re still alive.” The commander winked and walked from the room.

  Joss patted him on the back. “Don’t fall for her, Bo. I like having you as my pilot.”

  “Have faith,” he said with humor he didn’t feel.

  ~ * ~

  The summer was unusually hot, always a bad omen. Sky dressed in her favorite fuchsia one-piece and grabbed a banana-coffee shake on her way to the club. Doumar waited at the door to let her in when she arrived. He was dressed in a long marine coat with padded shoulders, white leather pants, and a sailor cap. Taking a matching outfit from the closet in the dressing room where he kept her club outfits, he handed it to her. The only difference was that her pants had the back part cut out, exposing her naked ass, and she didn’t have the advantage of a long coat to cover it. She took the items with a feeling of irk, suppressing the urge to throw the clothes in his face. About to turn for the change room, she stopped when he called her back.

  “Dress in my office. We need to talk.”

  The paper cup in her hand dented under the force of her fingers, but she followed him down the hallway. In his office, she turned her back on him and stripped, feeling his eyes on her from where he slouched in his chair.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  When she turned to face him, he crossed his legs on the desk and folded his hands over his stomach. “What happened last night?”

  “He didn’t say anything.” She shimmied into the pants. “I didn’t find out where they are staying. You could’ve just had him followed.” Even if Bono had said something, she wouldn’t tell Doumar. Mr. Black was a kind man, different to any other she’d met.

  “I did.”

  Her stomach tightened. She said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

  “He spotted my man.” His eyes ran over her breasts. “Pity. Now he’ll be on the lookout.”

  She pulled the striped spandex top over her head to cover herself, fiddling with the square-cut sailor’s collar to hide the shaking of her hands.

  His gaze traveled down to her feet and back up. “You kissed him.”

  She tried not to act shocked or surprised. Her shrug was meant to appear non-caring. “It was necessary.”

  “I saw the photos. It was quite a thing.” He waved his hand in the air. “Like that famous photograph of the sailor coming home from the war.”

  Her hands stilled.

  “You know?” He smiled. “The one who kissed the nurse. He tipped her back, doing this tango thing with her body. I looked it up. It’s called V-J Day in Times Square. That’s what you looked like—like that nurse.”

  “I did what you told me to do.”

  Pulling back his knee, he kicked the glass dildo on his deck with enough force to send it flying across the room. She jumped as it hit the wall and broke with a thud.

  “He had his tongue down your throat.”

  “Doumar…”

  “Don’t you fucking Doumar me, you slut.” He jumped to his feet, sending the chair crashing into the wall behind him. “Come here.”

  Her voice quivered. “Dou, please.”

  “I said don’t call me by my name. Kneel, whore, and call me who I am.”

  She made her way across the floor on shaky legs and knelt in front of him, but she didn’t bow her head.

  “Who am I?”

  “My owner.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Your property.”

  His laugh sounded hollow. “Let me put things in perspective for you. You’re a cheap piece of furniture, Sky, an object worth less than my dog. I paid a thousand euros for that pure-breed bitch. That makes her my pet. What does that make you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He gripped her cheeks with bruising force, tilting her face up to him. “If he touches my property with his filthy mouth again, I’ll cut off his head, and then I’ll chop off your lips. Am I clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “I still smell him on you. Go brush your teeth. When you’re done, you can come back here and earn your keep.”

  She rose swiftly, hoping to escape the room before he said more, but she wasn’t that lucky.

  “Sky?”

  She paused, not looking back at him.

  “Tell me how much you’re worth, baby.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “Five hundred Euros.”

  “That’s right. The price of my desk. The nice leather chair I sit in cost more than that. Don’t you forget it.”

  ~ * ~

  Two days went by without a sign of Bono Black or his French friend. Sky hoped for their sakes, and her own, they’d gone back to their countries. She prayed they’d abandoned finding what they came for. Since their meeting, she’d been thinking about the dangerous, gentle man with the dark skin too much. Mr. Black with his hard body and warm lips was a temptation where her mind wandered too often for her liking, especially seeing that he’d come after her. She expelled his memory with a toss of her head, shaking her hair free from the clip. Today she didn’t want to be distracted.

  It was Friday.

  Piling the shoulder-length tresses on her head, she studied her reflection in the vanity mirror of her caravan. A messy bun would do. The style made her look more like a normal person, a woman with an acceptable job, a flat, and even a small amount of happiness. For one day each month she needed to look like every other conventional human being.

  She took care with her appearance, dressing in a conservative sundress with ballerina flats and applying light make-up. When she was ready, she forced herself to eat breakfast, even if excitement robbed her of an appetite, then she grabbed her bag, and headed for the park. Arriving thirty minutes early, she sat down in her usual spot and watched each person who entered. Her nerves were all over the place, her heart like a balloon floating up to the sky. As the minutes ticked on, eventually passing the agreed hour, her elation turned to anxiety. They were late. She only realized how hard she gripped her bag when an ache settled in the joints of her fingers. Forcing herself to relax her grip, she eased her face into a smile.

  Ten minutes later, she spotted them. Doumar walked through the gate with a boy in hand. A sob escaped as a gasp. God, how much he’d grown in one month. She could swear he was an inch taller, his shoulders broader. She waited for them to approach, drinking in the sight of his blond hair and blue eyes. He walked straight, with pride, occasionally glancing at Doumar as if searching for his approval. She soaked up every second, took note of every detail, until they stopped in front of her.

  “Say hello,” Doumar said, giving the smaller hand a nudge.

  Niels lifted his head to look at her shyly. “Hello, Mommy.”

  She swallowed twice to get rid of the lump in her throat and held out her hand. “Hello, big man.”

  Niels looked at her fingers, but didn’t move. His passive regard hurt, but she forced it down, unwilling to spoil the moment.

  “Go to her,” Doumar urged, giving him a push.

  He moved forward reluctantly and climbed onto the bench.

  “You have fifteen minutes,” Doumar said. “I’m over the
re.” He pointed at a bench not far away.

  As soon as Doumar was gone, she turned her undivided attention to her son, addressing him in English, as per Doumar’s order. Niels wasn’t allowed to speak Dutch at home. “You look handsome.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How’s the new school?”

  “Okay.”

  “Did you make friends?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She smoothed back his soft hair, dying a bit at the involuntary cringe that made his body draw into itself at her touch. “Did you try what I told you?”

  He met her eyes with a streak of defiance he’d definitely gotten from her. “It was a stupid idea. They laughed at me.”

  “Why?”

  “They don’t like my game.”

  “What game did you invent?”

  “Explorer. We were supposed to sail to Africa and conquer new lands.”

  “Exploring sounds like a good game. I’ll play it with you.”

  He looked down and pulled on the hem of his T-shirt. “It doesn’t matter. Daddy says I don’t need friends, anyway.”

  Cupping his cheek, she turned his face her way. “I’m your friend.”

  “You don’t count.”

  She bit her lip. “Don’t I?”

  “You can’t climb a tree, and if you can’t climb all the way up, you can’t board the ship.”

  “You’ll be surprised. I’ve climbed many trees in my day.”

  He looked at her skeptically. “If you say so. I’m not really worried about making friends. I’m going to a different school at the beginning of the next semester.”

  Doumar shouldn’t move him around so much. He was the kind of child who needed stability. “How come?”

  “We’re moving. It’s closer to our new home.”

  “Where to?”

  “Daddy says I’m not supposed to tell.”

  “Is it nice? You do have a big room?”

  “It’s okay, I guess. There’s a garden.”

  “Good. I hope there’s a tree, so you can sail for Africa.”

  A faint smile lifted his lips. “There’s no tree, but Daddy bought a barbecue.”

  “Are you eating all your fruit and veggies?”