The Genie's Heartwish, page 13
His newest possessor was an enigma. It was the first time he had encountered an owner so uninterested in hearing about her wishes. In the past he’d been all but tied down by his possessors, demanding he apprise them of the wish details as soon as he’d advised them of their gifts. Their eyes alight with greed, they first used his body to satisfy themselves. Then they scuttled from making one wish to another so swiftly Zakkar barely had time to register where and when he stood upon the earth before he was whisked back into the desolate bowels of the bottle for another small eternity.
Laila was gentle, funny, intelligent. Not only had she spent time teaching him about her world, feeding and clothing him and taking him for a wondrous ride in her horseless chariot, she’d also treated him with great consideration when they’d joined physically. She had bestowed the precious gift of allowing him to take charge, to feel like a real man again.
A satisfied smile took hold as he recalled her displays of jealousy. When women made suggestive overtures to him with their eyes and bodies, Laila strived to hide her unease, but Zakkar had made note of her discomfiture. It pleased him to know she was so covetous of him. Perhaps it meant that she cared for him to some extent.
Laila Malone was a woman he could envision making his own. Having her keep his house, warm his bed and bear him rosy-cheeked children.
His good temper curdled as Zakkar remembered it was not his destiny to settle down with a woman or father her brood. He was not permitted to partake in such simple pleasures. He was doomed to wander and sleep, not to experience life and love as a real man.
Laila made him feel more alive than he had in eons. Perhaps that wasn’t a good thing. After knowing her, hearing the sweet ring of her laughter and seeing the warm gaze of what appeared to be genuine affection in her eyes, it would be difficult to return to his half-dead existence in the bottle. But return he must.
A hen-like clucking of voices assailed his ears. Aware of the women lurking nearby, eager for him to favor them with an appreciative nod or promising smile, Zakkar paid them no heed. It had less to do with the fact that he was allowed to engage in carnal union only with his possessor than the fact that he had grown weary of self-seeking women interested in him only as a walking gis.
While their bodies were appealing, the idea of bedding them was of more interest to his gis than his head. Or his heart.
Odd. He hadn’t thought of his heart in ages. Why now?
“Because Laila has touched it,” he muttered aloud.
Too many couplings with shallow, selfish women had left a bitter taste in his mouth. None of them, from queens to princesses to the most breathtaking of consorts, could compare with his Laila.
His Laila.
He gave a humorless chortle. She was not his. Quite the opposite, he was hers, to do with as she pleased. But she made it seem otherwise for him. He would be eternally grateful for that benevolence, keeping with him the memory of her kind heart and generosity of spirit.
“I’ll meet you at the table in a minute, girls. Well, hello there.”
Zakkar looked up at the sound of a female’s seductive voice. An emaciated woman dressed all in pink and wearing too much paint on her face smiled down at him. With a quick gaze at her chest as she thrust it forward, he thought it peculiar that one so bony would have uburs as big as Laila’s.
“Mind if I join you?” She slid into the booth seat opposite him without waiting for a reply.
“What do you want?” Zakkar asked, deciding he didn’t care for this woman’s aura or assuming attitude.
“Oh...” His purposefully brusque manner had clearly caught the woman off guard. “My name’s Bunny Turner. I own Tuned by Turner, the weight loss centers.” She gave him a gleaming merchant’s smile, fully expecting, no doubt, for him to be suitably impressed.
The name was indeed familiar to him. Laila had spoken of the company and the woman who was her employer—the one insisting Laila become gaunt or forfeit her employment. His eyes narrowed. No, he did not like this woman who had caused Laila and Reen grief.
“You speak of the business requiring healthy, well-rounded people to starve until they become scrawny?”
A startled look etched across the woman’s face, then she broke into cool, guarded laughter.
“Oh, I see. You’re joking. Anyway, we’re always looking for new faces and...” her eyes licked him, “new bodies, to use in our magazine and TV ads. You’d be perfect. Do you model?”
“I do not understand.”
“Have you posed? For photographers.”
Zakkar frowned. “I have posed for sculptors who have immortalized my likeness for others to admire.”
“Mmm, I can certainly see why.”
Her low, husky laugh did not reach her eyes as it did when Laila laughed.
“Interested? The pay is good. And...” she gave him that distinct lustful look again, “there could be some very special fringe benefits.” One of her eyebrows arched. “If you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I know. You wish for me to bed you,” Zakkar said, not bothering to curb the sneer tainting his lips.
Her jaw sagged, but Bunny Turner regained her composure quickly. Unlike Laila, she was no innocent.
She focused her hungry brown eyes on his gaze. “We could each benefit from a mutually satisfying, discreet romp in the sheets.”
“Such a romp is not possible,” Zakkar advised her. “I belong to another.”
“So do I.” The woman’s fingers reached across the table, walking up his forearm. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Zakkar beamed a grin when he saw Laila returning to the table. Bunny’s back was to her so she apparently mistook Zakkar’s smile as a positive answer to her suggestion.
“Oh, good. I see that we can come to terms,” Bunny cooed.
“Bunny...” Laila said when she reached the table seeing her employer seated in her place.
With a slow turn of her head, indicating irritation at being interrupted, Bunny gave Laila a disdainful perusal.
“Laila,” she said with a bland, uninterested smile. “Nice to see you. I hope you’re not planning to eat anything but a salad here.” She wagged a chastising finger. “Remember, you’ve got a significant amount of weight to lose in the next few weeks.” She puffed out her cheeks and patted her flat belly.
Zakkar watched as Laila’s face reddened, his blood simmering in response. This woman enjoyed making Laila feel unattractive.
“We’ll talk another time.” Bunny dismissed her. “As you can see I’m tied up at the moment.” She reached across the table, covering Zakkar’s hand with her bony, bejeweled one in a possessive gesture.
As her gaze followed Bunny’s hand, it was clear Laila felt intimidated by this bold boss of hers.
“Buh-bye, then.” Bunny waved the fingers of her free hand before turning her attention to Zakkar.
“Um, actually,” Laila’s tone was timid, “you’re sitting in my seat, Bunny.”
Bunny’s eyes grew impossibly wide. “Excuse me?”
“My seat,” Laila repeated, gesturing to the booth with an apologetic smile. Zakkar wondered why she felt the need to feel contrite when it was the intrusive Bunny who had made the mistake.
Bunny’s cool manner slipped as incredulity took over. “You know each other?”
Laila nodded. “He’s...Zak is...”
“Laila is my girlfriend,” Zakkar stated, his eyes on Laila as he took her hand, caressing it before bringing it to his lips and brushing a kiss across her knuckles. He was pleased to see the heated flush of humiliation dissipate from Laila’s cheeks. The pleased and grateful smile replacing it was worth more than gold.
“Laila?” Bunny spoke the name as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. She looked at Laila, aghast. “He’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Laila gave him another beautiful smile, lifting his hand to her soft cheek for a brief touch.
“Did I not tell you I belonged to another?” he reminded Bunny.
The server, the official one as well as her competitor, brought their lunch and pints of Guinness to the table. She winked at Zakkar and left, whispering with the other server and giggling.
“I’m sorry, Bunny, but if you don’t mind...” shrugging, Laila gestured to the food on the table.
“Oh...yes...of course.” After removing her hand from Zakkar’s and clearing her throat, Bunny slipped out of the booth and Laila sat in her place. With a disapproving glance at Laila’s burger, she said, “Remember, you have six weeks to comply, Laila.”
“Before you depart,” Zakkar said, “know that Laila will not be living a life without ninda.”
“What?”
Zakkar noticed that when Bunny frowned, only her lips moved. Her forehead was strangely smooth and still.
“Bread,” he clarified. “And butter and sugar. She will not do without these pleasures to please the absurd directives of Tuned by Turner.”
“I beg your pardon?” Bunny blustered.
“Zak!” Laila gasped. “Oh, he doesn’t mean that, Bunny. Zak has trouble with his English, that’s all. “Trust me, I’ll get that thirty pounds off in time, don’t worry.”
Bunny eyed the table again and scoffed. It was the oily, false smile of a crafty snake. “Not eating like that, you won’t. And beer too?” She tsked as she shook her head of stiff, oddly colored blonde-ish hair.
“You would allow yourself to become like a frail, undernourished bird to appease this woman?”
Laila’s smile was tentative. “She’s my boss, Zak,” she said, just above a whisper. “I have no choice if I want to keep my job.”
“Bingo.” Bunny offered another unpleasant sneer. “I’ll have you know,” she said to Zakkar, “that Tuned by Turner is one of the most respected weight loss companies in the country, with branches nationwide.”
“We had two similar places in my homeland where people became skeletal,” Zakkar informed her. “They were called dungeons and prison camps.”
With a stately sniff, Bunny said, “I won’t dignify that with a response. I have to be going. I have friends waiting. Unlike you, Laila, I’m having the salad, sans dressing or croutons, in case you’re interested.” She shifted her gaze to Zakkar. “And regardless of your abominable attitude, my offer still stands. All of it.”
“Offer?” Laila asked Zakkar.
“Your employer has suggested she and I engage in fornication,” he explained. He had no reluctance mentioning the fact. After all, Bunny showed no hesitancy in bedding another woman’s man.
“I did no such thing.” Bunny’s face twitched as she gasped. “I merely offered him an opportunity to model for TBT ads.”
Zakkar noted Laila’s lips curling into an amused smile.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken, Zak,” Laila said with a wink. “You see, Bunny is married. I’m sure she would never proposition you, no matter how appealing she finds you.”
“Indeed.” Zakkar understood at once the game Laila played. “Then I must not have heard your boss correctly. And it is a good thing. I would hate to embarrass her by rejecting her proposition because she is too scrawny for my tastes. I won’t have to tell her that I like my women full and lush like you, Laila.”
“Well, I...how rude!” Bunny huffed and puffed.
“By the gods!” Zakkar gave Laila a look of surprise and he could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Your boss is still here. I’m afraid I have misspoken.” Inclining his head, Zakkar said to Bunny, “My apologies. Good day to you, Bunny Turner. Our food grows cold and my patience grows thin.”
“Oh my God.” Laila scraped her fingers through her hair once her boss marched off in a huff. “My ass is so fired.”
Zakkar attempted to decipher yet another snippet of unfamiliar phrasing. “Am I correct in speculating you fear for a pet donkey that is in danger of being set aflame?”
Laila’s responding laughter sounded strangled. “No, I mean I’m going to lose my job. All because of you!” she accused, jabbing a finger at him.
He watched her hands as she spoke. “Your hands are expressive. They are beautiful without being adorned with garish jewels such as those your boss wears in abundance.” Grasping the pointing finger she offered, Zakkar caressed it along with her entire hand. “Bunny reminds me of Tsura, a gypsy woman who once possessed me.”
“You’re trying to make me forget why I’m angry with you.”
“Is it working?” Offering his most inviting smile, he knew his mention of a former possessor would make Laila curious.
“No.” She sat back, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “Was...was she beautiful?”
“Tsura?” Coughing out a laugh as he recalled the memorable woman, he told her, “No, she was mean and lurid. Her facial countenance was similar to Bunny’s, except Bunny is not snaggletoothed with one eye gouged out. Also, Bunny does not smell of the fetid sheep grease Tsura utilized to keep her skin soft.” His eyebrow hiked. “At least as far as I know. Perhaps if I accepted Bunny’s invitation I might learn otherwise.”
Sitting forward, she slapped Zakkar’s hand. “You troublemaker.” Her laughter spilled freely and her large almond eyes sparkled with amusement. “You said that on purpose to make me laugh when I’m this close” she held her thumb and forefinger together, “to losing my job because of you. You can just wipe that innocent look off your face, mister.”
Offering a devilish smile, Zakkar sipped the beverage Laila called stout beer. “Kash-gin! Barley ale,” he clarified. “Ahhh...dark, rich and strong. I have not tasted anything like this since...” He thought for a moment. “Not since I can remember.” He downed most of the frosted mug in a few gulps. “I would like to partake in more of this.”
“Whoa! Slow down. There’s no way I can carry a drunken six-foot-whatever barbarian out of here on my own. Here.” Laila shoved his plate toward him. “Eat. If you promise not to guzzle it, I’ll give you the rest of my Guinness after you’ve finished half your food. It’s too many calories for me anyway. Deal?”
“Yes, we have a pact,” he agreed, bringing the thing called a burger to his lips. At the first bite of round bread containing meat and condiments, sparks of delight prickled in his belly. “This bacon-cheddar burger is better than any food I can remember.” He glanced up. “Laila, this is so good it is almost holy.”
“Tell me about it. Wait until you taste the fries and onion rings.” She pointed to the golden strips and rings resting at the side of the burger.
He inspected the fried sticks and circles, sniffing a stick before placing it in his mouth. “Mmm,” his eyes widened, “delicious.” He picked up another fried stick, studying it. “The sensation of salted crispness on the outside and the tender potato inside, all enhanced with a good amount of oil...it is entirely pleasing.”
“You sound just like a commercial.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Try an onion ring.”
Zakkar did. “I have never sampled onion in this manner before, coated with a light, crisp, oil-infused veneer. These foodstuffs are delicious enough to be set on an altar for the gods.”
“I agree completely. Unfortunately they’re out of the pork pie. I’ll have to bring you back for that the next time Nevan makes it. It’s well-seasoned ground pork wrapped in a flaky pastry crust and cut into thick slices. It’s just as good cold as it is hot. You’ll love it. It’s my brother Gard’s favorite food.”
“Is Nevan here? I would like to meet him.”
“I’m afraid not. He’s off now because he’s working tonight.”
“I like your brother’s pub very much.” Zak took another bite of his burger before asking, “Why does Bunny Turner not want people to eat and drink such delicious food? This is as different from the twig food you gave me this morning as the sun is from the moon.”
“Because it’s fattening.” She gave her hamburger a guilty gaze, then set it back on her plate, pushing her food away.
“I do not like your boss. She does not have a good aura about her. It is clear she does not like you.”
“No kidding.” Laila offered a silly, twisted expression.
“She envies you.”
“The only thing Bunny envies about me is that she thinks you’re my boyfriend. Boy would she like to get her claws into you.”
“She made that clear. I meant she envies you for your genuineness, your warmth and kindness. Spending that short time with her it is clear this deceptive woman does not possess those qualities.”
Laila’s face brightened with gladness. “Thank you, Zak.” She touched his arm and he felt the insignificant gesture of affection right down to his gis. “But a woman that attractive isn’t envious of someone like me.”
“Attractive?” Zakkar spat a laugh. “She resembles a slithering snake,” he gestured with his hand, “who tries to disguise her true nature with face paint and pink garb. You are more beautiful than she could ever hope to be, Laila.” He watched her eyes glisten at his words. Fascinating how his speaking such a simple truth made her glow. How strange that she could not see this truth for herself.
She lowered her lashes. “I don’t even know how to respond to such a lovely compliment.”
“Then say nothing. Busy yourself instead by finishing your burger and fries. They are too enjoyable to discard. It makes me happy to see the expression of pleasure on your face as you eat. It is much like the look you have when we are naked together.”
The sip of beer Laila took almost flew out of her mouth. She swallowed it, then coughed, choking. “Shhh! Keep your voice down. You can’t talk about...” she glimpsed at the other diners, “about things like that when we’re in a restaurant.”
“Things like what?” he teased, loving the tinge of pink that crept up her neck to color her cheeks.
“You’re playing dumb again, aren’t you?”
Zakkar hid his smile by sinking his teeth into his burger and chewing. “Are we going to shop for pleasure restraints when we finish eating?” he asked, hoping for another embarrassed flush of color. As expected, Laila did not disappoint.
