NocC 003 - Mina Khan - The Djinn's Dilemma - Harlequin 2011-11 Read Online Free PDF

better…then he’d got around Sarah again. He slapped both hands to his chest. “But I will suffer all day and all night.”
    A snort escaped Sarah. “Oh you poor tortured soul.”
    Rukh widened his eyes and leaned forward. “I suffer with great pleasure.”
    She laughed out loud. “Oh, such suffering should be rewarded.”
    “It should,” he said, with a smile. “Have dinner with me.”
    She dropped her muffin. It bounced on the tabletop, then rolled to the floor.
    “Here, share mine.” Rukh pushed his forward. “Now where were we?”
    “Breakfast.” Sarah broke the muffin in half and pushed the rest back toward him. After a moment of biting her full lips, lips he’d love to taste, she jumped up and snagged the runaway muffin.
    Rukh settled back in his seat and sipped his smoothie. His eyes traced every line and curve of her body, especially the curves. A part of him just wanted to lick every inch of her. Don’t go there. Focus. This was a fact-finding mission.
    She wrapped the muffin in a paper napkin and set it to the side, before reclaiming her seat.
    “Talk to me, Jasmine.”
    Her gaze jumped to his, flicked away. “Most people call me Sarah.”
    “I’m not most people. Besides, Jasmine suits you. It’s more exotic.” He crossed his arms on the table, moved forward. “Sexy.”
    Their gazes met and held, an instant longer than casual. She looked away and picked up the paper. “Ah, you’ve been reading about the governor.”
    Rukh glanced at the paper. She held up the society page, featuring galas and fund-raisers. Picture after picture of dolled-up women and men in tuxedoes.
    He’d been playing a guessing game when Sarah had walked up. Could this chubby matron, dripping in diamonds, be his client? Or what about the handsome man with his practiced smile? The latter turned out to be Governor Jake Adams.
    “Just seeing how the rich and famous play,” he said. “Do you know the governor?”
    “I’ve interviewed him a few times, but I don’t really know him.” She sat up straighter. “I know his assistant, Eric, and that’s even more useful.”
    “You lead an exciting life, and you should have an exciting name,” he said. “So how did you get the name Jasmine?”
    “My mother was Jamaican and she picked Jasmine.” Her lips pinched together, then loosened into a smile. “My father, an American tourist, was visiting the islands when he fell in love with her. They got married on the beach at sunrise.”
    He could almost hear the island lilt in her voice, the hint of ocean breezes and warm sunshine. “That’s a beautiful story.”
    “It is, isn’t it?” She peered down at her empty plate. “I only know the story because Grandmama told it to me. My parents died in a car accident when I was five.”
    The pain that filled her face made his heart slam against his ribs. Oh heaven and hell, he was an idiot. He wanted to kiss away her hurt, make her smile, apologize.
    “I’m so sorry,” he said, covering her hand with his.
    She looked up with a gasp. He was afraid she’d pull away or slap him. She did neither. Sarah stared at him a moment, then dropped her gaze. Her fingers intertwined with his. Warmth bloomed between their hands, spread like spilled oil.
    “Thank you. But enough about me. Tell me about you.”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “Where are you from?”
    A parallel dimension. Yeah, that would go over well. “Most recently, Washington, D.C.,” he said.
    “And originally?”
    Best to claim his charming da’s heritage. “Originally, Ireland.”
    “Your accent’s not quite Irish.”
    Because it’s Djinnish. He kept his mouth shut and indulged in a small shrug.
    “It still sounds very nice.” She blushed. “What does your name mean?”
    Mutt. Impure. Gypsy. “Wanderer.”
    “Wow, that’s a very…romantic name.” She scooted closer. “What was your childhood like?”
    Rukh’s gaze skittered away from her as a chill bit into his bones. He was really glad to be