Bound to Seduction (4 page)

Slowly, he stepped toward her, giving her
plenty of time to see he wasn’t about to hurt her, and reached for
her hand. Her skin was soft where his was rough, pale where his was
dark. Lifting her fingers to his mouth, he skimmed his lips over
her knuckles. Sparks of heat raced all through his body at the
simple touch. Heat, he saw from the way her eyes darkened, she felt
too.

Again, not what he expected. Not what he was
used to. Nothing he even knew how to react to.

Brow wrinkling at what it all meant, he
placed her hand at her chest, right over the opal, and for the
first time in forever found himself torn between hoping she called
him back and wishing she wouldn’t. Before he changed his mind, he
said, “Now, send me home.”

Mira spent the rest of her day doing
anything she could to take her mind off what had happened.

As she scrubbed the inside of her fridge,
she knew only one thing for certain: Tariq was real. She hadn’t
imagined their meeting or his poofing in and out of her living
room. He was real. He wanted to grant her a wish. And he was a
genie.

Her hand paused against the glass shelf.
Holy hell. He was a genie. Even if he didn’t like to use that word,
that was exactly what he was. The poof of black smoke when he’d
disappeared and reappeared was as much an indication of that as was
the fact he was bound to the opal.

She
lifted her hand,
almost
touched
the stone at her chest, then stopped short. She wasn’t ready to
call him back. Not yet. She needed to think.

Forget thinking
.
She tossed the sponge into the sink across the room and ripped off
her yellow latex gloves. What she needed to do was
research.

She wound into her home office, sat in the
chair behind her desk, and opened her laptop. An hour later, after
filling her brain with enough djinn mythology to make her head
ache, she was still confused.

He’d said some djinn were good. That they
granted wishes. Yet her research said otherwise. It was the last
few lines about his tribe—the Marid—that she couldn’t stop thinking
about:

Few in number, very powerful. According to folklore, Marid
have the ability to grant wishes to mortals; however, they usually
only do so when forced by a master
.

Mira sat
back in her chair, fingered the chain at her neck. Remembered Tariq
standing proud and warrior-like in front of her. Why would a djinni
from the Marid tribe—which, according to her research, was the most
powerful, the most proud, the most conservative of the six tribes
when it came to interactions with humans—grant any kind of wish to
a mere mortal? Everything she’d read said members of his tribe
stuck together. Why would he care about her wants and needs?
About
any
human’s
wants and needs?

Her fingers drifted down the chain, hovered
just above the opal. She’d taken it off earlier, then put it back
on. The shop owner had said once she made her wish she wouldn’t be
able to take it off until her wish was fulfilled. While the thought
of it being locked around her neck for any extended length of time
made her more than a little claustrophobic, she felt safe in the
fact she controlled the situation. And that it was up to her to
call Tariq back or not.

He wasn’t going to hurt her, of that she was
sure as well. But was he offering her this deal because he wanted
to? Or because he was being forced…for whatever reason?

Her thoughts drifted to Devin. Yes, she
wanted him to notice her, but she wasn’t willing to do just
anything to get him. Before she decided if she was really going to
go through with this whole wish-fulfillment thing, she needed to
find out more about Tariq.

Slowly, she pushed out of her chair, then
paused in the doorway. Her bedroom sat to the left, the living room
to the right. Darkness pressed in through the windows, telling her
night had fallen while she’d been researching. A smart woman would
go to bed, sleep on this decision before acting. But every time she
thought about moving into her bedroom, she remembered Claudette’s
claims.

Wicked pleasure, mind-numbing fantasies,
your heart’s every secret, sinful desire come true.

Followed
by the image of Tariq. Tall, broad, so very muscular. Dark and
dangerous, radiating a sexuality even Devin couldn’t compete with.
Then she heard Tariq’s deep, sexy voice when he’d said,
I am yours to
command. For however long it takes until you are thoroughly
satisfied
.

Her blood warmed. Shot sparks of need
through her limbs, into her abdomen to spread rolling waves of heat
across her hips and between her thighs. She gripped the doorframe
for support.

“
Oh
God.” She would not survive a night fantasizing about him
and
that
. She needed
to know more.
Now
.

On unsteady legs, she made her way out into
the living room, flipped on a lamp, and sat on the edge of the
couch. Thankfully, it was Friday, and she didn’t have to go to work
tomorrow. So it didn’t matter if this “discussion” lasted awhile or
not. She didn’t have to be up early. And if the discussion turned
into something else…

She swallowed hard at the erotic visions
taking shape in her mind. The ones not of her and Devin, as she’d
often dreamed, but of her and Tariq. Both naked and sweaty and
breathless.

Her pulse picked up speed, and she swiped a
hand over her suddenly damp forehead. Told herself to get a grip.
That wasn’t why she was calling him back. Before she could change
her mind, she brushed her fingers over the opal and held her breath
to see if he’d appear.

A cloud of black smoke filled the center of
the room then slowly dissipated, leaving Tariq standing in the same
clothes he’d worn earlier. Only this time, those obsidian eyes,
that fall of dark hair that just brushed his shoulders, and that
insanely sharp jawline covered in scruff shot a thrill to her very
core, not fear and apprehension as it had before.

“Mira,” he whispered, the corners of his
lush lips curling ever so slightly. “Your wish, my command.”

Heat and
need rippled right back through her abdomen, brought a flush to her
cheeks. Every time he used the word
command
, she seemed to grow hotter.

She cleared her throat. Could tell from his
waiting expression that he thought by calling him back it meant she
wanted to begin their…what? Deal? Wish? Yet she hadn’t even told
him what she wanted. And when she did…

Her blood went white-hot when she thought of
what she wanted. And how he would work into that wish.

On shaky legs she stood, and when he took a
step toward her, that thrill turned to excitement, but she held up
a hand to stop him—and her. “Wait. I have some questions
first.”

His eyes narrowed in speculation. But his
expression cleared and settled before she could wonder what he was
thinking. “Ask me anything. I am yours to command.”

Command. There was that word again. Only
this time it didn’t sound sexy as it had before. It sounded…forced.
She dropped her hand, swallowed the nerves, feeling both foolish
and a little disturbed. But this was important. She didn’t want to
be with someone—even if it was just a wish—who didn’t want to be
with her. Even if he was a super-hot genie sent to fulfill her
every desire.

“I did some research while you were gone,”
she said. “And I believe you. What you told me…it’s crazy.” She
looked around the room, only half-believing she was saying this.
“Twenty-four hours ago, I never would have thought this was
possible, but now…everything is different.” She looked back at him.
“But before we move on to my, ah, wish, I need to know one
thing.”

When he only stared at her, she shifted her
feet and forced herself to go on. “Are you here by choice? Or are
you being forced by some…master…to fulfill my wish?”

Her
heart thumped hard. So hard she was sure it had to be bruising a
few ribs. And under his heated stare, she couldn’t read him. Didn’t
have a clue what he was thinking. Or feeling—if anything. Did djinn
even
have
feelings?

“You researched me,” he said slowly, still
staring at her.

“Yeah. Well, not you specifically,” she
managed, though her throat was thick with nerves. “But your tribe.
And everything I read says those from the Marid tribe keep to their
own realm. They don’t cross over into the mortal world like the
Jinn and Jann tribes do. Like the Shaitans and Ghuls.” She
swallowed back the rising sickness when she remembered what she’d
read about the last two djinn tribes. While the Jinn and Jann were
mostly just curious about humans, the Shaitans and Ghuls preyed on
both the living and the dead, loved to torment and destroy whenever
they could. She’d been so relieved Tariq was not one of them.

“You researched me,” he said again.

“Yeah,” she repeated, twisting her hands
together. “Does that bother you?”

“
No,
Mira,” he said softly. “It does not bother me. It…surprises me. No
one in all my long years of servitude has
ever
gone to the trouble of trying to learn more about
me.”

His admission sent pleasure through her
chest, and a smile curled her mouth. But the elation was dampened
when she realized he’d used the word servitude.

The warmth dimmed. “So you are being forced
to be here with me.”

He took a step toward her and, before she
could think to stop him, ran his palm across her cheek, cupping her
face and looking down at her with eyes that were soft inky pools
of…confusion.

Heat rushed in again.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek, the
simple touch sending tongues of wicked fire licking through her
torso. “You are unlike any mortal I have ever met.” His gaze
drifted down, and he ran the fingers of his other hand across the
opal nestled in the top of her cleavage. “While it is true I am
bound to the Firebrand and am forced to serve, for the first time
in forever, I feel…tempted.”

Tempted was good, right? It meant at least
part of him wanted to be here with her. Or so she hoped.

She held
her breath. Waited. His gaze lifted back to hers. And someplace
deep inside her went dark with desire at the longing she saw
reflected in his sinfully wicked eyes. Longing
she
had put there.

“Who are you, Mira Dawson? And why do you
have this strange effect on me?”

* * *

Tariq wasn’t sure if he was dreaming,
fantasizing, or just plain finally going nuts after all the years
Zoraida had kept him locked up. But even if this was some
schizophrenic hallucination, he didn’t care. Mira had researched
his tribe. She’d truly cared whether he was forced to be with her
or not. No one—not a single human he’d granted wishes to in all
those years—had once thought of him. What he wanted, what he
needed. Not a single one had looked at him as anything more than a
lowly genie.

But not her. Right now, staring up at him
with those hypnotic hazel eyes, she was looking at him as if he was
a man.

Which was a huge misconception he should
remind her of. He was not a man. Had never been a man. He was
djinn. The heir to his kingdom. A lethal warrior who had commanded
armies. One who had eventually been captured, tortured, and
condemned into slavery. But none of that mattered right now—not
even his failures. All that mattered was her. And this tiny moment
of relief he’d found because of her.

“I’m…no one special,” she said softly,
breaking his train of thought. “I’m just…me.”

She was more, though. Something in the
center of his chest said she was much more.

“Tell me your wish, Mira.”

She looked down at his T-shirt. And again he
watched a blush creep across her cheeks. A blush that excited him
with each passing second. “I…it’s a little embarrassing.”

“Nothing you wish for will shock me.”
Especially because he was already starting to think of all the ways
he could pleasure her. And was actually looking forward to them.
Which was a first for him. A big first.

“This might,” she mumbled. Then, drawing in
a breath, she looked back at his face. “I want to learn
about…seduction.”

When he opened his mouth to ask how she
wanted to be seduced, she held up a hand, stopping him. “Before you
ask, no, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had boyfriends. And I like men. I
like sex. But…”

She hesitated. Bit her lip. Looked back down
at his shirt. And he waited because he sensed this was hard for
her. And because the way her top teeth sank into her bottom lip was
so damn sexy, he had a wicked, all-consuming urge to take a bite
out of her himself.

“Oh, man,” she said. “This is so
embarrassing.” Then she squared her shoulders and met his eyes
again. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m the first one in my family to go
to college. My parents were both blue-collar workers who couldn’t
afford to send me to school and worked extra jobs so I could go. I
sacrificed partying and boys in favor of studying so I could make
them proud. Then, when I graduated, I was focused on getting a job
to prove to them their sacrifices were worth it. And I did. I got a
great job. I love my job. And it was enough. Until my dad got sick
a few years ago. I found myself torn between work and helping my
mom when I could, but all the while I was starting to feel as if
something was missing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends, but no one
special, you know? I guess a relationship didn’t matter much to me
before, so maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Then my dad died last
year, and my mom went to live with my aunt in Idaho, and suddenly I
found myself…”