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

call you Santa Jasmine?”
    “Hardly.” She giggled. “I’m paid to observe the political circus in Austin and write stories for the newspaper. Quite a few people think I’m far from a saint.”
    Huh. Her mental blocking was flawless; could she also control her aura? Was she that good a manipulator? “Anybody in particular?”
    She shook her head. “There’s always someone, somewhere mad.” She took a sip of her margarita. “If a news story makes everyone happy, it’d be more accurate to call it a very good press release.”
    He laughed.
    “You must cover some interesting people and stories,” Rukh said, shifting to make sure he got an eyeful of her cleavage. “Tell me something exciting.”
    She told him of governors clashing with the legislature, of crooked politicians that had been nailed, of presidential candidates stumping through Texas.
    “Are you working on anything big right now?”
    She shrugged. “There are a few things, but I can’t talk about them,” she said. “Journalistic ethics.”
    Damn the goody two-shoes! Didn’t she realize he was trying to keep her alive? Of course, she didn’t. And why the hell would someone like her make it on not one, but two different hit lists?
    A headache throbbed at Rukh’s temples. What did it matter if she was a good person or not? Innocent or not? It shouldn’t matter to an assassin. He needed to walk away from this job.
    But even if he turned down the contract, the client could go hire some other mercenary. He had no clue who his client was, or even whether the person was male or female. Nothing to latch onto and hunt. For once Rukh regretted all the layers of security between him and his clients even though it protected him as well.
    And how to stop the bad-ass djinn? Why was he involved? Rukh chugged his beer and almost slammed the bottle back on the table.
    Sarah laughed. “Thirsty?”
    “You make me nervous.” Maybe it was time to retire. It’s not like he needed the money.
    She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
    “You’re unlike any woman I’ve met before.” Add to that: a disturbingly nice aura, a kill contract, another djinn, and time tick-tocking away. Rukh snagged a passing waiter and ordered her another drink.
    “Trying to get me drunk?” She smiled.
    “All’s fair in love and war,” he replied. Enough drinks could loosen her inhibitions and tongue, make her walls come down. He wasn’t beyond playing dirty, using drinks and sex, to get what he wanted. He’d decided this time he’d be the one in control. After all, it was a matter of life and death. Hers.
    Dread pooled in Rukh’s stomach, made his muscles clench.
    “So what do you do, Rukh O’Shay, besides showing up everywhere I happen to be?”
    He told her he was an executive assistant. “I execute and assist.”
    She propped her chin on her hand. “Who do you work for?”
    “The government.” The lie seemed the most plausible answer to stop her questions.
    “Which branch of government? Which office?”
    He smiled. “It’s classified.”

    After dinner, they went to a salsa club and danced. One of the hot, trendy places on Sixth Street that Sarah had heard about from the entertainment reporter. The beat of the music spoke to her soul, making her feet move and her hips shake.
    Rukh kept his smoldering gaze on her as he moved with the music and with her. His hand grasped her at the waist and pulled her close to his side. He twirled her away, pulled her close again. She leaned back against his warm, broad chest, as his hips gyrated in rhythm with hers. She felt his need pressing into her. Hard and unapologetic. Then he twirled her away again. Their gazes kept crashing, full of burning hunger. She followed his lead and swung the hours away, wondering what sex with this man would be like.
    Her misgivings and fears melted away, she forgot she was a journalist, that she meant to dig out his secrets. Dancing, Sarah became simply a woman, knew only that she wanted him.
    The