Wild by FOSTER LORI

Author:FOSTER, LORI
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Zane had never had a sixth sense, except where women were concerned. And then it was razor-sharp. He’d watched Tamara retreat from the man, and everything male inside him went on red-hot alert. He took an aggressive step forward.

Luna touched the man’s arm. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Tremayne is booked for the day. You’ll need to make an appointment.”

Without looking away from Tamara, the man intoned, “I’m Boris Sandor,” as if that held some significance.

Tamara glanced at Luna, then at Zane, before turning her attention back to Boris. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sandor. My assistant, Luna Clark, can help you set an appointment if you’d like.”

He shrugged off Luna’s hand. “How much do you charge?”

Annoyed, Luna propped her hands on her hips and lost her ethereal tone. She named a price, which, going by Tamara’s expression, was a bit high.

Boris said, “I’ll pay twice that.”

Arkin stuck his head around the curtain. “Tamara?”

“I’ll be right there.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Look, Mr. Sandor, it doesn’t matter what you pay, I’m booked, and I can’t leave scheduled clients waiting. If you’d like to see Luna, she’s free. Otherwise, you need an appointment like everyone else.”

Zane wanted to explode. Damn, it was starting already! He didn’t have to see Luna’s expression to know she was smirking at his discomfort. He’d had no idea Tamara was so popular, and he sure as hell hadn’t envisioned her clientele as male. He’d assumed she dealt mostly with young, fanciful women wanting to know about their boy-friends, or older women hoping to receive a message from a deceased husband or great-great-aunt.

He realized that he really had no idea what Tamara did. She’d told him again and again that she wasn’t psychic, though he still had his doubts about that, as well as doubting her ability to cast spells. She’d certainly done something to him.

Her front window advertised palm reading, futures told. Run-of-the-mill carnival acts, as far as he knew.

Yet two men, both of them appearing to be reasonable, intelligent sorts, were here first thing in the morning, demanding her attention.

He considered throwing the bulky Sandor out. After all, the man obviously made her uncomfortable with his constant leering, and he was verbally rude to boot. Only the knowledge that she would resent his interference kept him standing there quietly.

When he leaned against the wall beside the door, settling in for the duration of this little confrontation, Tamara sent him an apologetic, dismissive shrug. He ignored it.

He might have enough wit left to let her handle her business herself, but no way in hell was he walking out when he could feel her uneasiness.

She glared at him for not budging, then turned all her annoyance on Sandor. “Luna will give you a card. Feel free to set an appointment for another time.”

“Your aunt sent me.” He made that announcement as if the queen herself had told him to come calling.

“I’m sure my aunt told you to set an appointment.” “Of course not. She wanted us to get.

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