fighting not to cry like a baby. “I don’t play by rules.”
“Don’t rules suck?” Mari grinned and holstered her curling iron, but he already knew how fast she could get to it. “I like you already, dream genie.”
Charles tensed at the salutation. “Dream genie?” She knew what he was? Oh, hellfire and damnation, no wonder she was threatening him. Everyone wanted something from dream genies.
Seriously. Was it hard to figure out why dream genies protected their anonymity so ruthlessly? Because if their identity was known, desperadoes like the woman before him would harass, torture, and abuse the genies in a misguided attempt to force the dream gods to grant the nearest and dearest yearnings of their hearts. And then blame them when the dream genie couldn’t perform.
The one time he’d revealed his true self was to Angelica, and she’d promptly smutted him. And now her sex-providing replacement was in on the game? Time for the Caution Dance. “I used to be a dream genie,” he said conversationally while he assessed the odds of being able to disarm her before she shot his nuts into a state of utterly debilitating pain.
“Oh, good. That is so fantastic.” She smiled and held out her right hand, and he noticed that she had her nails painted in the softest pink. A color of vulnerability and femininity. Not what he’d expect from a protégé of Angelica of the silver-and-scarlet manicure.
“Hello, Charlie,” she said. “My name is Mari Hansen, and I’m here to offer you a deal.”
Chapter 7
Somehow, sitting in close proximity to a pile of garbage that had gone ripe during her three-week siesta didn��t seem an appropriate venue for tapping into an inner strength and talent that had eluded Natalie for a lifetime.
Seriously. Years from now, she would look back on this defining moment, when her life changed forever, and instead of sunshine and glory, she would smell rotted bananas, mouse poop, and the sound of a garbage truck doing its morning collection, all of which were drifting in through the open window. The front side of Newbury Street was ooo-la-la galore, but the alley behind? Not so much. Granted, she’d moved the trash outside this morning, but the stench still owned the joint. “I really feel like we should go somewhere else—”
“No time.” Nigel was crouched in front of her. His neck muscles were rigid, his face in turmoil she’d never seen before. “Ella needs privacy, and I need air. We don’t have much time, so the back of your store wins. Deal with it.”
Natalie raised her brows at his uncharacteristically abrupt dismissal of her concerns. “Deal with it? You’ve never been that crass in your whole life, have you?” Nigel was the most mellow dude ever, a warrior who never got worked up about anything enough to order someone to “deal with it.” She frowned. “You’re not okay, are you?”
Awareness flashed over his face, as if he had just noticed he’d snapped at her. “Sorry.” Then his jaw tightened. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus.”
“Okay, so I’ve got the front shut down.” Ella hurried into the back room of Natalie’s store. Her skin was pale, and she looked worried. “Nigel, you need to go out there and fend off anyone who tries to come in.” She pulled up a step stool, dusted the flour off it, and sat down in front of Natalie.
Nigel didn’t move.
“Nigel, please.” Ella looked at him imploringly. Her hands were trembling. “If someone saw me do this and realized who I was, it would have very bad repercussions for me. You need to make sure no one comes in.”
“There’s no chance I’m leaving you alone with Natalie. And I can’t say I’m overly concerned about repercussions for you.” A tendril of smoke began to drift up from Nigel’s palm, and the tip of a metal blade poked out at the end of his fingers. “Teach her, now.”
He sounded desperate, and Natalie touched his arm. “You’re going to be okay,” she said
“Don’t rules suck?” Mari grinned and holstered her curling iron, but he already knew how fast she could get to it. “I like you already, dream genie.”
Charles tensed at the salutation. “Dream genie?” She knew what he was? Oh, hellfire and damnation, no wonder she was threatening him. Everyone wanted something from dream genies.
Seriously. Was it hard to figure out why dream genies protected their anonymity so ruthlessly? Because if their identity was known, desperadoes like the woman before him would harass, torture, and abuse the genies in a misguided attempt to force the dream gods to grant the nearest and dearest yearnings of their hearts. And then blame them when the dream genie couldn’t perform.
The one time he’d revealed his true self was to Angelica, and she’d promptly smutted him. And now her sex-providing replacement was in on the game? Time for the Caution Dance. “I used to be a dream genie,” he said conversationally while he assessed the odds of being able to disarm her before she shot his nuts into a state of utterly debilitating pain.
“Oh, good. That is so fantastic.” She smiled and held out her right hand, and he noticed that she had her nails painted in the softest pink. A color of vulnerability and femininity. Not what he’d expect from a protégé of Angelica of the silver-and-scarlet manicure.
“Hello, Charlie,” she said. “My name is Mari Hansen, and I’m here to offer you a deal.”
Chapter 7
Somehow, sitting in close proximity to a pile of garbage that had gone ripe during her three-week siesta didn��t seem an appropriate venue for tapping into an inner strength and talent that had eluded Natalie for a lifetime.
Seriously. Years from now, she would look back on this defining moment, when her life changed forever, and instead of sunshine and glory, she would smell rotted bananas, mouse poop, and the sound of a garbage truck doing its morning collection, all of which were drifting in through the open window. The front side of Newbury Street was ooo-la-la galore, but the alley behind? Not so much. Granted, she’d moved the trash outside this morning, but the stench still owned the joint. “I really feel like we should go somewhere else—”
“No time.” Nigel was crouched in front of her. His neck muscles were rigid, his face in turmoil she’d never seen before. “Ella needs privacy, and I need air. We don’t have much time, so the back of your store wins. Deal with it.”
Natalie raised her brows at his uncharacteristically abrupt dismissal of her concerns. “Deal with it? You’ve never been that crass in your whole life, have you?” Nigel was the most mellow dude ever, a warrior who never got worked up about anything enough to order someone to “deal with it.” She frowned. “You’re not okay, are you?”
Awareness flashed over his face, as if he had just noticed he’d snapped at her. “Sorry.” Then his jaw tightened. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus.”
“Okay, so I’ve got the front shut down.” Ella hurried into the back room of Natalie’s store. Her skin was pale, and she looked worried. “Nigel, you need to go out there and fend off anyone who tries to come in.” She pulled up a step stool, dusted the flour off it, and sat down in front of Natalie.
Nigel didn’t move.
“Nigel, please.” Ella looked at him imploringly. Her hands were trembling. “If someone saw me do this and realized who I was, it would have very bad repercussions for me. You need to make sure no one comes in.”
“There’s no chance I’m leaving you alone with Natalie. And I can’t say I’m overly concerned about repercussions for you.” A tendril of smoke began to drift up from Nigel’s palm, and the tip of a metal blade poked out at the end of his fingers. “Teach her, now.”
He sounded desperate, and Natalie touched his arm. “You’re going to be okay,” she said
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