Read Online The Saint by Melanie Jackson - Free Book Online Page A

shouldn’t he? Kris was apparently kind to all his people. She could feel herself being drawn in to his vision of the world, despite her reservations.
    Trolls and gargoyles as bodyguards? Why not? At the moment, it seemed believable.
    You are such a sucker
, Joy complained.
    And maybe she was. This Kris had an irresistible sense of purpose that swept everything before it. Adora had expected a certain operatic greatness to surround him—most wealthy men had a touch, and this one thought he was a living legend—but whatever else her employer was, he wasn’t a lamebrain pretender. He might be delusional or psychotic, but he was sincere and energetic, and seemed to have a mind as sharp as a headsman’s ax.
    A thought occurred to her. Maybe Kris thought he was the
reincarnated
Saint Nicholas. That was a little less weird. Lots of people believed stuff like that, especially in Hollywood. Heck, she hadn’t entirely ruled it out of her own philosophy. Reincarnation was something she could get behind, since she believed in second chances.
    â€œYour bodyguard—is he likely to be called upon to die anytime soon?” she asked, pretending concern. She joked: “Should I ask for combat pay?”
    Kris shook his head. “Of course not. Having a bodyguard is just a precaution I’ve taken to please my nephew and other backers. Jack worries a lot.”
    Adora nodded. “I guess you have to keep the insurance company happy.”
    Kris blinked, and she had a feeling that something she had just said surprised him, though she couldn’t imagine what.
    â€œInsurance company. Just so. Tell me, Miss Navarra—”
    â€œAdora, please. We’re in California. Last names sound ridiculous—unless you like them, of course,” she added politely. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”
    â€œAdora, then.” The words were an unintentional caress. Or maybe not. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing. The thought made her frown.
    â€œGiven your obvious reservations about the project—and the added, though limited, danger—are you willing to take on this job?” Kris asked. “I hate to rush you, but time is short. I think you’ve met most of my staff now—at least the ones you’ll see daily. Can you stand to live with us while you do this work?”
    Adora forced herself to take a last long think. The man’s pilot, limo driver, publicist and secretary were all reassuringly normal. She had half feared that they would resemble the cast from
Santa Claus is Coming to Town
. But they all—except the bodyguard—eschewed any semblance to elves or pixies or fairy-tale monsters of any stripe, and Mugshottz . . . Well, he wasn’t that scary now that she saw him up close. Just large and silent and looming. And she wasn’t a species bigot, was she?
    â€œWe won’t be taking the Storch to New York, will we?” she asked suspiciously. “Because I have to tell you that I don’t do well in small planes.”
    â€œNo. There isn’t enough room for all of us. And I prefer speed as a rule. I only sent the Storch as a treat for you. I figured that as an historian you would appreciate it more than an efficient but characterless means of travel. I myself am quite fond of antiques.”
    â€œHm. Well, thank you. I certainly loved the car. What a gorgeous automobile.” The words were absentminded but sincere. She was still thinking, still weighing. Kris nodded and waited while she finished. Unlike her agent, he seemed to feel no need to rush her into conversation or decision.
    â€œOkay, I’m in,” she said. “And God have mercy on us all.”
    â€œWonderful. Max, would you ask Pennywyse to fetch the contracts? Adora, I have put together some biographical material for you to read in your spare time. It will fill you in on some of the more colorful details.”
    Colorful?
Joy laughed.
I bet they’re