Cravings Read Online Free PDF

away.
    â€œMary?”
    â€œSanj,” she said, walking toward the edge of the balcony, gazing out into the distance. “We need to talk.”
    â€œWe do?”
    She turned to face him. “My name isn’t Mary.”
    He must still be half-asleep. The sun suited her, her hair blowing in the slight breeze. This desperate woman who pleaded with him for help. Now he finds out Mary is not even her name. What’s going on here? Just what is this woman up to?
    â€œI really like you, Sanj,” she said. “And everything I’ve told you is the truth.”
    His heart raced. But . . . he knew a “but” was coming. This woman coming to him, offering herself to him. It was too good to be true. His assistant, Josh, would never let him forget this. He had let a strange woman into his suite!
    And like a fool he fell for it, had hoped he and she might become lovers.
    â€œExcept your name?” he said, then gulped his coffee. “What is it?”
    The hotel phone began to ring. “I really have to get this,” he said. “Excuse me.”
    He left the balcony.
    â€œSir,” the person on other end of the phone said. “We have received a fax for you. A carrier will be to your room momentarily.”
    â€œThank you,” he said, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He laughed. He was a mess—wrinkled, unshaven, filthy.
    Mary was now in the room with him—but he was overwhelmed by the need to take a shower. Who was this woman?
    â€œSign for the package coming to the room, please,” he said with a clipped tone. “I really need to get cleaned up.”
    â€œCertainly,” she said, smiling in a weird way.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” he asked.
    â€œNothing,” she returned. “It’s just that your fly is down and, um . . .”
    Embarrassed, he turned and quickly walked away.
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    How would he react? Would he throw her out? Maybe she shouldn’t tell him everything. But wait. He had helped her. He was still helping her. Didn’t she owe him the truth? The old Sasha would not care about the truth—she only cared about her next fix, most of the time. This caring business, this truth business, it was tricky. Her thoughts turned to Paul. Such a good man. He inspired her and helped her in so many ways. But he was gone.
    â€œMary?”
    She jumped and turned about to face Sanj. The possibility of him being an Indian god placed on earth suddenly overwhelmed her. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white clingy T-shirt that showed his chest and his arms. His mocha skin gleamed against the white. Titillating.
    â€œSorry to startle you,” he said, smiling, revealing two deep dimples.
    She’d never been so affected by a man before—well, not genuinely. She was studied. She knew how to show a man her interest, but it was acting. All in the name of business. She felt her face heat. Was she—was she really blushing?
    Her eyes darted away from him. “More coffee?”
    â€œSure,” he said. “Did you sign for the package?”
    â€œYes,” she said, pouring the coffee. “Envelope is on the table.”
    He sat at the table, opened the envelope, and read over the papers.
    She sat the coffee in front of him. “How do you take your coffee?”
    â€œBlack,” he said.
    He studied those papers intently.
    â€œWhat is it?” she finally asked.
    â€œIt’s an itinerary. I don’t know how helpful it will be, but it’s a start,” he said.
    â€œSomeone has planned your schedule?” she asked. Just how rich was this man?
    He sat the paper down in front of her. “I’m not answering any more questions until you tell me who you are and what you want with me.”
    Her heart lurched. His eyes became serious, his jaw hardened; the man’s hackles raised.
    Their eyes met.
    â€œOkay,” she said. “What do you want to know?”
    â€œLet’s