Cajun Magic 01 - Voodoo on the Bayou Read Online Free PDF

alive and feed my flesh to dem ‘gators.”
    She turned to Joe. “Don’t you rent out boats?”
    Joe held his hands up. “Now, don’t get some fool notion of going off on your own to find them dead fish. You’d get lost as soon as you left the dock. Besides, the swamp ain’t no place for a lady.”
    “I’m no lady. I’m a scientist.” She winced belatedly at her choice of words.
    “Scientist or no, I don’t rent my boats out to people I don’t think can bring ‘em back.”
    “Then perhaps you could take me?” She lifted the corners of her lips. “I’ll need to hire someone for the next few weeks to take me out to gather frogs and fish for my studies.”
    “Folks around these parts do their frog-giggin’ at night when the frogs are most active. If you’re wantin’ frogs, you’ll have to go out at night to get ‘em. I’m no night owl, but I know someone who is,” Joe said, looking over her shoulder. “Here’s your man. My nephew, Craig, can take you.”
    Fingers of sensation trickled down her spine. Without having to look, she knew he stood behind her.
    “Craig can take who where?” His voice was as sultry as the humid air, oozing sex appeal with every syllable.
    How did he do that? Did he have some way of emitting testosterone that, combined with her long-dormant hormones, caused spontaneous combustion in her lower abdomen?
    She refrained from fanning her face, braced herself for impact, and executed a slow turn. The half-naked man from the marina stood in faded blue jeans, bare feet, and a cotton shirt, untucked and hanging open. This unkempt man had no right to look good enough to eat, one lick at a time, like a very tall ice cream cone on a hot day.
    She was determined not to react as idiotically as she had previously. “No thank you. I’ll eat another guide.”
    All three men gaped at her.
    She clapped a hand to her mouth when she realized what she’d said. “I mean, I’ll get another guide, or go alone.”
    Joe shook his head. “Dr. Smith, you don’t seem to understand. Craig’s your best bet as a night guide. And my rule is no guide…no boat.”
    “What are you more afraid of, the swamp or me?” Craig dared her with a half-smile and a hiked eyebrow.
    She frowned. This was the second time a man had accused her of being afraid. She’d be damned if she’d take that lying down. Although, with him, lying down held a certain appeal.
    Jumpin’ genetics, what was she thinking? Heat surged up her neck and into her cheeks. Thank God he couldn’t read minds. Squaring her shoulders, she stared straight into his eyes and replied, “Neither.”
    “So, when do you want to start?” Joe asked.
    Boy, he moved fast. She felt a little out of breath. Although she struggled, she congratulated herself on keeping her inner turmoil from showing on her face. “I hope to have my lab set up by tomorrow night. Can you handle that, Mr. Thibodeaux?”
    “Lady, I can handle anything you’ve got.” He ran his gaze from the top of her curly brown hair, over her crisp white, oxford cloth shirt, down her neatly ironed khaki slacks, to the tips of her sensible Birkenstocks.
    She gulped, forcing her chin to a defiant angle when she’d rather run like a scared rabbit in the face of a hungry wolf. “Good,” she said, her voice squeaking. She cleared her throat and assumed her best professor voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow at dusk. Please be on time and—” she eyed his open shirt, and raised an eyebrow in what she hoped was a disdainful look “—fully dressed.”
    “At your command, Dr. Smith,” Craig said with a sweeping bow and several rolls of his wrist.
    She turned to the elder Thibodeaux, who’d remained quiet throughout the exchange. “May we go to the house, now?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He popped a smart salute, immediately softening it with an impertinent wink. Joe turned to his nephew. “You take care of Bernie’s boat while I help Miss Smith with the rental house.”
    “Sure, but