“Josh, have you seen Jax today?”
He bobbled the mug. Coffee sloshed out, all over his crisply ironed shirt. Josh stared down at the spreading stain. Professional as always.
At least it hadn’t been hot.
He returned the mug to his desk. “Handler Luka,” he greeted. “I saw him this morning for the interview with Cosmopolitan, but not since.”
“Sorry about that.” The Genie gestured.
Just like that, the coffee stain vanished, leaving his shirt cleaner than it had been five minutes ago.
Josh grinned. Genies ruled. If only his ma hadn’t forbidden him from applying to be one. She refused to let one of her babies live an immortal life without settling down and having her grandkids first. Not that Genies were infertile, but it was rare that they chose to have children. A black mark in Rosemary Lovett’s book.
Luka shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. As always, the Handler was dressed for a casual day with friends, at odds with his role as one of the most powerful Genies in WFY. Word around the assistants was he even had the ear of Director Clare—and a colder woman Josh had yet to meet. Even though he’d never found Luka anything but friendly, Josh always made sure his manner remained above reproach. WFY couldn’t have been happy about People magazine’s Sexiest Man of the Year—for five years running—hiring a male assistant who looked like Beaker out of the Muppets.
“Cosmo?” Luka grinned, bringing the conversation back. “I bet Jax loved that.”
“I think his favorite moment was when the interviewer asked him if he liked to use magic in the bedroom.”
“What was his answer?”
“That he was magic in the bedroom.”
Luka rolled his eyes. “And with that one arrogant statement, millions of women will sigh and flutter their eyelashes while the rest of us vomit.”
Josh laughed. “He’s just giving them what they want.”
“Loyalty noted,” Luka said with a touch of amusement. He removed one of his hands from his pockets to scratch his jaw. “So where is he supposed to be right now? I need to ask him about his progress with the New York winner from last week’s lotto.”
Josh kept his reaction to that like an iceberg—mostly under the surface—as he flicked back in his organizer. “He was supposed to be attending another Genie’s book signing, but he’s cancelled that.”
“So he’s off the grid?”
Heat trickled into Josh’s cheeks. He knew Luka wasn’t suggesting that Josh didn’t know how to do his job, but an assistant probably should know where his boss had got to. Though if he had to guess . . .
The higher-ups, though, might not like a Genie’s fascination with a mortal.
Best to keep mum.
Biting his tongue, Josh nodded. “But he’s got a meeting with Mr. Frankell in the boardroom tomorrow to talk about investing in WFY.”
“Yeah, I remember reading about that.” The words were light, but Luka’s gaze searched Josh’s face as though he knew there was something unsaid.
A tense few seconds passed. Josh’s shirt collar was tightening, constricting his airway and preventing oxygen from sneaking through as he held the stare.
When the Genie’s hazel eyes finally slid away, Josh was sweating.
“Fit me in a meeting tomorrow, would you, Josh?” Luka checked his watch. “Morning would be best. About eight?”
Without waiting for an answer, he ambled off, throwing out greetings here and there like confetti.
Josh sighed, looking back at his organizer.
Once more unto the breach . . .
* * *
“No.”
“You’re not even trying.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on. Just a few homey touches.”
“This is not a Starbucks.”
“Do you see me suggesting you open a café?”
“I see you butting in with unwanted opinions.”
“And I see you being as prickly as a hedgehog that’s being poked.”
“So, stop poking.”
Jax’s slow smile made her heart shift into high gear. “Gorgeous,” he drawled. “You’ll know when I’m poking you.”
Charlie shook her head. Her lips quivered as she suppressed the smile. “You’re impossible.”
“No, you’re impossible.” He crossed his arms, eliciting a very interesting contract-and-release dance with his biceps. Not that she was looking. Or interested.
He sighed—as though she were the frustrating one. “I’m actually trying to help you here.”
They’d been discussing the proposed renovations to The Book Nook’s interior for the past half hour. Much as Kate had wanted to stay, she’d had to leave to pick Ian up from his acting class. Which left the two of them. Alone.
Charlie tried to ignore that fact. “I don’t want or need your help.”
“See any customers? How long you been in business—six months?”
“Almost a year,” Charlie retorted. “And we’re doing very nicely.”
His pitying look made it obvious he didn’t believe her.
She wouldn’t believe her either. The store only needed rolling tumbleweed to underscore its emptiness.
“Look.” She strove for calm, ignoring the way lines crinkled around his eyes when he smiled. “I appreciate your”—she hesitated—“enthusiasm. But it’s my store. This is the way I want it to look.” Mostly.
Sure, if she wanted to throw out her scruples—and give Jax his win—she could wish her store different. But who knew where that could lead? She could wish a beautiful interior and the next day, pipes could burst and she’d be back to where she started. Worse, because she’d have to buy all new stock and that would bankrupt her.
Wishes couldn’t be as easy as Genies made it out. There were always detours on the path you saw ahead—change wasn’t always a good thing.
She drew in a breath and exhaled any hint of memory. All in all, it was better to keep her scruples, the win, and her thoughts on her store’s interior to herself.
Jax pursed his lips. “All I’m saying is if you took out the dark tables, repainted the walls a warm color, maybe a feature wall, maybe a few deep-seated chairs . . .”
“Now it sounds like a Barnes and Noble. This place has character.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Thornfield rings a bell.”
“You know Jane Eyre?” Charlie made sure to inject a heaping of disdain into her voice, hoping to provoke him enough so he’d leave.
Jax ignored that, as she’d known he would. The Genie was intent on asserting his opinions, even though she’d been adamant about her no-wish policy. The man probably assumed every woman in the world was waiting with bated breath for Jax to pop out of thin air on a white steed and rescue her.
So, yeah, he wasn’t giving up. It was in his DNA.
But neither was she. She’d dreamed of this store since the age of nine. And she was more than a match for Jax Michaels.
“You know what?” He didn’t wait for an answer. A grin flashed, what she interpreted as cheek. “I’ll show you what I mean.”
Charlie narrowed her eyes. “Wha—?”
Jax made a careless gesture. Small golden lights twinkled at the ceiling, winding their way down as though pulling a backdrop. A completely different backdrop. As the lights faded, Charlie stared at her store.
Gone were the traditional mahogany tables, sable brown carpet, and mauve walls.
The space was painted a creamy lemon with a taupe feature wall behind the counter. Printed on the taupe were the words Angry people are not always wise in flowing letters the same lemon as the walls. Pine had replaced mahogany, lending an unmistakable light to the small space. Instead of towering shelves were chunky, old pine book cabinets, all different sizes, creating a charming higgledy-piggledy effect. Only two tables remained, both pine, one covered in bestsellers and recommendations from the owner and the other for the three-for-two. In various corners were dark brown soft leather bucket chairs. The floor was
old pine, suggesting an air of country charm.
It looked distinctive and interesting and inviting.
And she hated that she liked it.
Jax was watching.
She pointed at the quote. “Not exactly literary.”
He tweaked her nose, surprising her out of her scowl. “Actually, it’s a quote from Pride and Prejudice—and you’d do well to remember it.”
She made a face. “Cute.”
Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she wandered forward, careful to keep a blank expression. His ego was big enough without her adding to it.
She stopped by the counter where a cupcake stand rested. In line with the charm of the new design, the stand was brass and three tiered. The cupcakes were individually wrapped in plastic and tied with gold ribbon.
His scent gave him away before he spoke from behind her. “That’s another thing to capitalize on—impulse purchases. You could have other little gift items near the cash register. You’d be surprised how much revenue it will add.”
“Well, listen to you spouting the big words.” Charlie dared to run her finger across the new counter. It felt as solid as her real one. Amazing he could do this.
And kind of worrying. How was it she forgot he was a Genie every time he came to visit?
She drew her hand back and swiveled to face him.
He looked cocky. Okay, and gorgeous, but it was redundant to note that. The man could be gorgeous covered in mud. His eyebrow was arched, his lips hooked at the corner in a brash I-know-you-love-it grin, and his eyes gleamed.
If she hadn’t already made the decision to enforce her stance that her store’s interior was fine as it was, that gleam would have persuaded her.
Her shoulders went back. “So how is it that a Genie knows Austen and Brontë?”
Jax blinked. His lips parted to say something, but he seemed to change his mind. He shrugged. “Good to seduce women.” Said with a beaming I’m-so-bad-but-you-love-it smile.
That pause . . . Was there something he wasn’t telling her?
She snorted. Of course there was. He was a Genie trying to make her wish so he could cross her off some list. And recover his pride from where she’d nailed it to the wall.
Just think—one wish and he’d be gone . . .
Damn scruples.
Yeah. And it’s got nothing to do with keeping the Genie around you . . .
“Yeah, look, Jax, I’m really busy, so if you could return my store to the way it was?”
“You don’t like this better?”
Charlie fought the urge to look around and sigh with longing. “Nope.”
“You don’t?”
“I like traditional.”
His brow creased as he crossed his arms. Hello, biceps. “You don’t wish for a second it was like this permanently? Did you see the sconces?”
Oh, God. Sconces. “Uh-uh,” she said through her teeth, which was impressive by itself.
Something he said clicked. Her vision wavered with dots of red as she poked a finger into his chest. “And you can forget trying to trick me into making a wish.” She told the disobedient finger to stop lingering. “I’m onto you.”
The gold flecks in his eyes glittered as heat blossomed. His apple scent intensified, making her salivate as he eased closer. “You’re onto me?”
Dry, she had a dry mouth.
Charlie swallowed as she fought the cowardly urge to step away from the predator. “You don’t have to say it like . . . it’s dirty.”
Damn—had she sounded breathy-mad or breathy-take-me-now?
His eyes shimmered.
Oh, God. Take-me-now.
Faced with taking a stand or retreat, Charlie chose the best survival technique.
“Well, okay.” She scurried behind the counter. Her cheeks were on fire as she busied herself with straightening something—she couldn’t even say what—on the desk. Her skin was tingling like she’d had an electric shock. She took it as a warning to stay away from the magnetic Genie.
She cleared her throat. “Jax?” she prompted. “My store.”
He was still staring, his mouth pulled taut with what she could have sworn was lust. His chest didn’t even seem to rise and fall. Every atom of him was focused on her, unwavering, dominant. Compelling her to return, to slide her hands up that rock-hard chest, link her hands behind his neck, and give in to what she had been dreaming about for the past two nights. Steamy, sweaty dreams.
“Charlie . . .” Gravelly, his voice stroked down her skin, raising goose bumps as it went. Her belly clenched at the implied question.
“Jax.” She’d issued it as a warning—to both him and herself—but was afraid once again her subconscious had got the better of her and issued an invitation.
His eyes were almost full gold now, only a hint of blue. One minute he was across the counter from her.
The next, strong arms grabbed her from behind and whirled her. She let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeal, surprised, not being used to Genie tricks.
He pinned her against the counter, leaning into her, over her. His arms slammed down on either side of her body, caging her in a prison that smelled divine and felt as hot as if she’d jumped into spitting fat.
Do not jump into the fire, Donahue.
Her hands had landed on his chest as he’d grabbed her. He was solid beneath her touch, deliciously built, just like she’d imagined.
He leaned in, his face angled, and touched his nose to her neck. Inhaling, he made an mmm sound. “You smell good.” With every word, his breath teased her skin.
When he lifted his head, their eyes met and held. She was so close to him that she could identify every little fleck of gold, see the dark flush of lust streak across his cheeks.
A phone rang.
For one long moment, Charlie didn’t identify it as being part of the world. It just didn’t seem to belong in the seductive web he’d tangled her up in.
When his body tensed, she realized she wasn’t hearing things.
Literally saved by the bell.
Horrified by what she’d almost succumbed to, Charlie turned her face away and withdrew her hands to the sides. “You through manhandling me?” She managed to pull off a slightly annoyed tone, as though she’d only been playing along. The catch at the end was out of her control.
Jax took longer to move, but she imagined his pride was hurt by her nonchalant response. How many women backed away from what he offered?
When he did move, it wasn’t very far. He continued to stare as he reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a cell. He checked the display before holding it up to his ear. “What?” It was a curt answer.
Charlie spun, placing her hands flat on the counter. What in the hell had she almost done? Kissing Jax was a sure way to not only get her heart broken, but also fall in with the race she’d spent her entire life cursing. After her mother . . .
She blanched. No. She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t be just another woman seduced by Jax Michaels, a funny anecdote for an interview next year about the winner who wouldn’t wish until he’d persuaded her. She had her reasons for denying the wish—why should she throw them away over a pair of nice eyes and a tight butt?
Don’t lose yourself in the vision he spins for you. Even if she did like the view.
When he hung up, she felt more in control than she had for a few days. Exhaling one long breath, she faced him with a cool expression. “Who was that?”
“Josh.” Jax looked at her with unreadable eyes. The desire had vanished, leading her to suspect it had all been an act on his end anyway. Embarrassment fired her cheeks as she curled her fingers into her palm. Just one good sock to the jaw. Wouldn’t be so pretty with black eyes.
“Oh?” she managed.
“He says my boss was looking for me. I better go.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
His eyes flashed in one uncontrolled second. “And I wasn’t manhandling you. I barely touched you.�
��
God, but she was afraid he had, in a way more lasting than skin. “True,” she allowed, ironing out her voice. “But it’s probably best you don’t come back here.”
The gold burned. “If you think you can stop me, be my guest. I’ll be back again tomorrow.”
“That isn’t wise, Jax. I told you; you’re wasting your time.”
He said nothing. When he shimmered in the run-up to dematerializing, Charlie called out, “Jax?”
He solidified.
“My store?”
A scowl. In the blink of an eye, her dark, depressing store was returned. Charlie stared with a heavy heart. Damn him for showing her an alternative.
“I could always change it back.”
Charlie shot him a quick look. He was examining her—he must have seen something of her feelings reflected on her face. She never had been great at keeping her emotions bottled.
“Bye, Jax.”
He began to chuckle. “You liked it, didn’t you?”
“Have a nice trip.”
“So stubborn.” Suddenly, he was in a much better mood, the gold receding so that the blue of his eyes shone like an ocean dappled with sunlight. He ambled forward, so close his apple scent hit her like a wave.
“Jax . . .”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” His hand darted out and snagged a cupcake from her stand. He wiggled it. “Food for the road.”
He disappeared on a wink, leaving her with an unsettled stomach and the undeniable certainty that she hadn’t seen the last of him.
She took the rest of the afternoon to try to convince herself she was unhappy about that.
6.
Saturday night’s draw came and went. Charlie hoped it meant the pressure heaped on her by WFY, courtesy of Jax, would lighten now that a new New York winner had been selected. She treated herself to some Aunt Mabel’s cookies and had an early night with a new romance.
Her bedside phone rang in the socially unacceptable hours.
Charlie opened one eye, fog enclosing her in wavy, groggy lines that ducked and weaved. She stretched out her hand, knocking over her alarm clock, and fumbled for the phone. Yawning, she put the receiver to her ear. “’lo?”
Her Wish--A Playboy Genie Romance Page 8