Soul Mates Cry: Witching Call Part 3 Read Online Free PDF

overwhelmed the place.
    While he was here, he was only this powerful-looking, handsome man who confused her with his focused attention.
    As she approached him, his posture changed. He pulled his long legs in and sat straight on his chair.
    Not a pirate, she corrected herself. A panther, ready to attack his prey.  
    She almost shivered at the reminder of the most exotic, dangerous cat that ever passed through her life. How could she have likened him to a panther, of all animals?
    “Coffee. Black," he answered in a deep, husky baritone.
    “Thank you very much,” she replied, smiling automatically.
    His stare burned into her back as she walked back to the bar to get the order ready. She wanted to run but the manager's eyes were surveying the room at the moment. 
    Anthony was smiling. “Let me guess. Coffee. Black. Right? Did we at least get a hello or something more today? Or just the usual silence?”
    She didn’t answer. She couldn't.
    She could still feel the stranger’s eyes on her and she felt as if she were on fire. 
    Delicious fire . 
    If only he wasn’t so handsome. 
    Too handsome. 
    He had the kind of magnetism no woman could resist. And it was hard for her, too, even when she constantly denied it to herself.
    And of course, Anthony and the others could see what was unfolding. Except for Iliana, her co-workers enjoyed the hour Nickolas spent in the shop everyday, drinking his coffee, watching her as she steadily gets nervous, and leaving a huge tip for her afterwards, which she shared with everyone and the manager as per regulation of the shop. 
    This torture has been going since that first time he came in to have coffee with a client almost a month ago. 
    She remembered his eyes locking on her that first day—and the sizzle of heat she felt as she got caught staring back involuntarily at his perfectly handsome face. 
    And since then, every afternoon he would come in. He would order coffee and would stay for one hour.
    It was like clockwork. Every-freakin’-day. 
    She wondered at his discipline. She hadn’t even seen him look at his watch. But in precisely one hour, everyday, he would leave.
    He was the weirdest, yet handsomest man she had ever encountered.
    Anthony’s teasing whisper intruded in her thoughts. “Oh… if I were in your place, love, I would have gotten a date by now. A god like him, coming to the shop every day just for me, sitting for hours with a coffee he never drinks… staring at me constantly… and then leaving the hugest tip we’ve ever received from anybody—hell, not just a date. He would already know how big my bed is!”
    “Right. And next morning you will be found in some gutter with your throat cut like a chicken," she said under her breath. “Or maybe?” Her voice held the curiosity and confusion that she felt. "As far as we know, this guy could be the next Ted Bundy. He is rich, and he is good-looking.” A huge understatement. “What could he possibly want with a waitress from a coffee shop at the edge of the city? It’s not like I’m some model!”
    She told that as much to herself because it was the truth.
    “Honey… how many times have I told you? You are a piece of candy with that red hair. If you'd just take care of yourself a little better.” Anthony was now looking down at her so critically. “I mean… that dreadful ponytail. And no makeup!”
    She straightened her wide black blouse and tight trousers. “I’m fine the way I am, thank you very much.” 
    She did not say what was really on her mind—even if she tried making herself beautiful, she would only look merely presentable compared to the hundreds of women who undoubtedly vied for his attention. 
    She was not one to fool herself. She might not know the man, but no one could dispute this other truth. She was highly inappropriate for someone like him. And she knew without a doubt what plans he would have for her if given the chance.
    Of course she knew. She had been through that road