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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A couple of hours before dawn, he finally managed to tear himself from her bed and make his way along the deserted island shore to the dark hut. The room felt cold for the lack of her presence. As he undressed and slipped under the rough cotton of the sheet, he suddenly became intensely aware of the solitude of his existence. Until Maddy’s death, their lives had revolved around survival, hiding their identity at all costs while earning a living. Since she’d passed away, he’d managed to carry on by building the dream, one slow step at a time. Now, all of that didn’t seem enough. There was something fundamental missing from his life. It came in the shape of a woman with bouncing curls, a bow-shaped mouth, and eyes the color of spearmint.

He could still smell the sweet scent of her skin and hear the erratic sound of her breathing as she climaxed for him. How would that tight pussy feel around his cock? He wanted to see more of those smiles of tonight on her face. He’d do it again in the blink of an eye. He’d risk everything for another few hours with her, but what he’d done tonight was selfish. He had no illusions about the danger she was in. He owed it to her to fix this mess. If it was the last thing he did, he’d see her walk with a carefree gait once more. He’d get that fucking collar off her neck. And when this was over, he wanted more from her. A whole lot more.

At dawn, he finally gave up on sleep. After a long jog and a workout on the beach, he had a cold shower and went for breakfast. From the kitchen, he scanned the restaurant for Asia, but she was nowhere to be seen. Juan was having breakfast with Garcia and Stefan. It took every morsel of his self-control not to rip the motherfucker’s fingers off, one by one.

“Why so broody?” a female voice asked behind him.

He turned in his seat.

Leona stood by the counter with her ever-present clipboard clutched in one hand. She motioned at the tables where the guests were dining. “Missing her?”

She was perceptive. He had to be careful.

At his silence, her lips curved into a knowing smile. “You can always take one of her empty slots now that all the guests are bailing out on their treatments.”

He frowned. “Why are they cancelling?”

“They’re scared of her. At least with Jeanne, they knew where they stood. The new arm candy is still a threat.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he said, clenching his teeth.

“Defensive? How sweet.” She made a face. “You’re on at lunchtime.”

“I know when I’m on.”

“I moved the setup to that island over there.” She motioned to a patch of palm trees visible on the horizon. “Make sure you board the boat by eleven.”

He eyed the trees in the distance. “What’s wrong with the beach here?”

“After yesterday, nobody wants to party on the beach in front of the guest units.”

His shoulders tensed with caution. He didn’t like not being able to predict Juan’s movements. “Does that mean the whole schedule is changing?”

“By tomorrow they’ll forget about it. I guess we’ll be back to normal then.” Wistfully, she added, “Best play it by ear.”

In two days’ time, these people would’ve gotten over the murder of Juan’s wife and carry on with their senseless partying and illegal business. It said a lot about the kind of people he was entertaining.

His smartphone vibrated in his pocket. Removing it, he checked the screen.

“Excuse me,” he said to Leona before walking outside. Stopping a distance from the kitchen, he swiped a finger across the screen to accept the call. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“I got hold of the geomancist.”

He glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. “Who is he?”

“It’s a she.”

He frowned. “A woman?” He’d thought Maddy had been the last female of her kind.

“Her name is Armelle Francis.”

His fingers tightened around the phone. “Who does she work for?”

“The American government.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Only that there’s someone who’d like to get in touch with her and talk about similar art interests.”

“Can I call her?” he asked, lowering his voice when a cleaner walked by with a stack of linen.

“She said she’ll contact you. I checked her out via your mother’s old connections. All clear.”

“Thanks.” He studied the few people near the jetty from under his lashes. “I appreciate this.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Sean grinned. “Do I ever?”

“All the time.”

“How’s the pub?”

“Fine.” His dad sounded upbeat. “Same customers. Nothing new. How’s the island holiday?”

“Can’t wait for it to end.”

“Sounds like paradise,” his dad said in a dry tone. “I’ve got to go. The dogs need a walk.”

“Take care, Dad.”

The line went dead.

Sean stared at the island in the distance. He needed to see Asia, but he couldn’t sneak up to her unit in broad daylight. He’d never be able to wait until nightfall. There were simply too many hours until then.


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