Read Online The Cowboy Genie's Wife: A Paranormal Romance (The Dirty Djinn Series) by Lyn Brittan - Free Book Online Page B

swerving and shrugged in that Hell, No! Are You Crazy? way that men sometimes do.
    Janet must have just received a phone call.
    Janet was not pleased.
    Janet was out for blood.
    He ended the call before the raving stopped and licked at the small scar she had near her chin. “She says we used magic to take her oil, blah, blah, blah. She intends to make us pay.”
    “And you’re not concerned,” she asked, smacking his bum for his gross underestimation of the situation.
    “Bigger fish to fry than that.”
    “No kidding. Hey, about that , what if we went back? Check things out for ourselves?” She’d left in a haze of terror but harbored no misgivings about returning with Fazil at her side. Things looked a lot better from there. He’d protect her.
    And...
    Well...
    If he protected her, then she could protect Manny.
    He saw right through her, and she read it all over his face. “She could hurt Emmanuel.”
    Fazil sighed and rocked back, squatting over her. “Janet doesn’t know anything about him. One, we’d be putting him in more harm by contacting him. And two, before you ask, no, we can’t bring him here.”
    “Move,” she said, rolling out from under him and rising to her feet. “I’m not going to abandon him now.”
    “I’m not asking you to. Please, baby, let’s not fight about this. I’m going to send him the best doctors that money can buy. We’ll find an even better home and—”
    “How dare you? You let me believe that—”
    Her face burned, and her heart constricted, folding in on itself as Fazil once again focused on destroying her joy.
    “I didn’t let you believe anything. I was pretty fucking solid on that point. He’ll have everything.”
    “Except his family.”
    “Rosa—”
    No matter how many times he called her name, she didn’t turn around. If this was how he wanted it, fine. To hell with him.
    And just like that, they were right back where they started.

Chapter Eight
    I t’d been a solid week of rolled eyes and unnecessary sighs around corners. He hated living like this, doing this to her, but it’d been her own damned fault. She didn’t leave him any room to maneuver, and now, he had to figure out how to make all this work.
    And again, oh yeah, the dead guy.
    He’d almost forgotten, until the random text message she’d received this morning. Rosa had come into the kitchen and damn near thrown her phone at his head. He stared at the screen again, but it hadn’t changed no matter how long he looked.
    I know what you did. You’ll pay. Meet us where you committed the crime.
    “What about your so-called contacts, Fazil? I wish us to the murderer.”
    “No.”
    “I wish the murderer dead.”
    “No. We need to—”
    “Fine. I wish us to the murder. Again.”
    He threw back his head and growled. “Knock it off. An unanswered wish is not a walk in the park for me.”
    “So, answer it.”
    “And that’ll wind us up, where? For all we know, it’s a team of people. They’re probably recording everything. You want me to magically pop into that? If you want to wish for something so bad, I could use a glass of brandy.”
    “No.”
    “Ugh!”
    She was a mirror image of him, arms folded and grimacing at the kitchen table. She wished for a rum, which he granted, and which she did not share. Typical. Her red nails rapped against the side of the glass. He was two seconds from yanking it away. “So, your friends are searching for a body?”
    He didn’t answer, instead getting up and bringing over a bottle of black label cognac. He drank straight from the gold-flaked container. “That’s the plan.”
    “Bad plan.”
    “Because I thought of it?”
    “Because the body is obviously well hidden. Although it’s not likely the guy’s going to keep it around.”
    He took a swig and slammed the bottle down. “And therefore?”
    “Therefore, we look for what people will still use. The body’s ... err ... the guy’s assets. The wife won’t know he’s gone. They haven’t