"Are you asking me to go to breakfast with you?"
"Yep. And no, it's not a wish, before you ask." Jake took the deep breath his lungs were begging for and blew it out. "We need to get this wish thing out of the way. Tell me your real name, already."
"Why?" Suspicion curled her sensual lips and soured her tone. "I know all about wizards and witches and the power of a name."
"Then you know about the power of domicile. I could command you to give me your name."
Her laughter was like a peal of silvery bells, with the crash of thundering surf underneath. Delicate beauty and imperious power, combined. It suited her.
It was her.
The short, spiky, purple hair? Not so much.
She sneered at him. "You could command me to do nothing."
He flicked a tiny spell at her, and she disappeared. Just vanished before his spell was even halfway across the room. The target gone, the magic fizzled and swirled its way out of the window, into the rosy light of sunrise over the lake.
And then she materialized in front of him and punched him in the face.
Beware wizards in log cabins ...
DONYA FALLING STAR SHERAZELLE wasn't so much angry as she was confused, and maybe a little bit worried, but she wasn't going to let the human see it. She shook out her hand and made a mental note: No more punching--at least not when the man had a jaw like iron, to match the hard-muscled body that fascinated her so much.
Not that she'd admit that, even to herself. But washboard abs and bite-able asses aside, she was worried because this had never happened before: In three thousand years, she'd never been compelled to grant wishes to the same person twice. Sure, the guy who'd rubbed the lamp didn't qualify, but why hadn't the wishes bounced to somebody who hadn't already had their chance?
Nothing about this made sense.
"You hit me!" He rubbed his jaw, but he was grinning. Damn, but he had a sexy-as-sin wicked smile. She just bet that women lined up to jump in his bed, and they were probably pretty happy once they got there. Jake Cardinal, of the famous--some said infamous--Cardinal Witches, was a little over six feet of hard-bodied man. He had muscles like a gladiator--and she'd known a few. Luckily, Jake smelled better.
She flashed to the other side of the counter, just in case he tried for retaliation. Also, she needed ice for her knuckles. Because, ouch.
"You deserved it, Cupcake. Okay, wishes. What have you got? Let's get this over with." She tapped her fingernails on the counter and tried not to look into his fascinating amber eyes. "You only get three, no wishing for more wishes, no love spells, wishing for anything pervy loses you everything, blah blah blah. You know the drill from last time."
He shoved his tawny golden hair out of his face. He really was unfairly beautiful. Unfair to mortal women, gay men, and horny Djinn.
"Yeah. Speaking of that, I'm a scholar of all things magic. Maybe the best damn magic scholar on the planet, not to be immodest. I've got books and scrolls and even a few computer programs written by the best programmer nerds in their mothers' basements across the country. All of them tell me that you
can never receive wishes from the same genie twice. What's up? Did you miss me?"
He was smiling, but Donya could see the flash of sincere interest in his eyes.
"Yes," she drawled, examining her fingernails before yawning. "I missed you. Desperately."
He put his hands on the counter and leaned over it toward her, which gave her a close-up view of the corded muscles in his tanned forearms.
And the trail of silky hair that led into the shorts hanging perilously low on his hips.
She shivered, in spite of herself, and of course, he noticed.
"Like what you see, Princess?"
"Actually, I'm cold. But, hey, seeing a drunk loser in a smelly wooden cabin totally does it for me, too," she said with a straight face and flat voice.
"Ouch. Would you believe me if I told you that you've managed to find me on the only two times I've been drunk in years?" He started to prowl around the corner toward her--a golden-eyed jungle cat stalking his prey.
Except she'd never been prey. Not even when they'd caught her and cursed her to eternity as a slave. Captured, yes. Prey, never. And those who'd trapped her were long dead, which was its own form of revenge.
She held her hand up, palm out, and he stopped where he was. "You asked me about the wishes finding you twice."