Gargoyle's Mate Read Online Free PDF

stated. “My assistant will meet you at the courtesy desk at five thirty with the necessary paperwork and a camera for your photo.”
    “You can’t just --” She cut off her own protest. Most people couldn’t update a passport in the manner he suggested, but the rules were certainly very different for someone who could hand over two million dollars for a fool’s errand.
    “Afterward we’ll have dinner,” he continued.
    “I don’t think so. You may be blackmailing me into participating in this ridiculous wild goose chase but I draw the line there.”
    Lorn regarded her silently before continuing as if she hadn’t spoken.
    “There’s still much we need to discuss, unless of course you’d rather forgo the remainder of today’s seminars and meet now?”
    She hated to admit it, but what he said made perfect sense. She was scheduled for another lecture in an hour and a panel discussion soon after, if they were going to meet it would have to be later.
    “Until tonight,” he finished as she quietly acquiesced.
    ***
    Gordy ambushed her as soon as she re-entered the hall leading to the various conference rooms. “Okay, now will you tell me what the hell is going on?”
    She sighed. “You’re probably going to hear about it when we get home. Mr. De LaRue represents a foundation interested in pursuing more extensive gargoyle research.”
    “Gargoyle research?”
    “As in the possible existence of actual gargoyles.”
    “You’re kidding me?”
    “I wish I were.” She exhaled deeply. “Apparently they would like me to head this effort.”
    “You can’t honestly be serious about accepting the job. You’ll be committing career suicide.” He was incredulous, his normally pale face taking on a pink hue.
    “I don’t have much choice. The university will receive a hefty donation for my participation.”
    He frowned. “Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”
    “Mr. De LaRue approached me yesterday, and when I refused he went over my head. I got the call from Hansen after lunch.”
    “Surely there’s something else you can do to get out of this?”
    “I wish there were,” she muttered, remembering Lorn’s too perfect form. “I wish there were.”
    ***
    Fatima handed the silent man, who’d identified himself earlier as Mike, the last of the signed paperwork before nervously glancing at her watch.
    He slid the items in a manila folder.
    “Your passport will be waiting for you at the terminal when you depart for your international flight.” He smiled warmly, his blue eyes twinkling.
    Maybe if she prayed hard enough it would get lost somewhere in transit.
    “I’ll be taking you to meet Mr. De LaRue for dinner now, if you’re ready,” he continued, giving the dress pants and earth-toned blouse she’d changed into a brief once over.
    This is as good as it gets , she thought at the man’s quick perusal, wondering what Lorn had told him about the nature of their meeting.
    “I’m ready if you are.”
    Fatima followed behind Mike, speculating how he’d come to work for Lorn De LaRue. His accent appeared American, maybe Midwestern. He was tall, just above six feet, and well formed. He didn’t compare to Lorn, but definitely wasn’t shabby by anyone’s standards. He dressed much in the same fashion of most style-conscious twenty-something-year olds, in light colored flared bottom jeans and a snug button up black top sporting the first two and last button undone. For all intents he could have just as easily been a model. She hazarded a guess at what his hair looked like underneath the black knit cap he wore tugged down over his ears. Probably one of those forty-dollar unkempt looks so popular among hip white guys, she speculated.
    She followed him outside to a waiting silver colored luxury sedan which sat unbothered at the hotel’s main entrance.
    Of course . Fatima rolled her eyes heavenward. If her own beat up compact sat there unattended for more than two seconds she would be making arrangements