Three Wishes

by Jenny Schwartz

Overview

She is the Bringer of Death

Cali, a djinni, has sworn to twist the wishes of humans so they die by their own greed and evil. Her latest master is arms dealer David Saqr, a man Cali believes deserves the fate she has in store for him. But this time she finds herself up against Andrew, David’s guardian angel.

He is a Protector of Life

Andrew believes David can yet find redemption. He fights Cali for the man’s life, even as he tries to persuade her to give in to the sizzling attraction between them. He shows Cali another side of David, and invites her to trust again, to hope. But centuries of being enslaved have hardened Cali’s heart—it’s going to take all of Andrew’s love to convince her to open it and let him in.

24,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781426891656
Publisher:	Carina Press
Publication date:	05/23/2011
Series:	Out of the Bottle , #3
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
File size:	262 KB

About the Author

Jenny Schwartz is an Australian author of Coastal Romance. Her books celebrate the joy of falling in love and the freedom of choosing to follow your heart. She has a degree in Sociology and History, and a passion for reading, especially books with a guaranteed happy ever after. You can chat with Jenny and learn more about her books at her website: http://authorjennyschwartz.com 

Read an Excerpt

"More coffee?" David Saqr accepted the irony that purchasers of death and mayhem liked to conduct their dealings in an atmosphere of hospitality and luxury. He provided what they wanted—guns, bombs, mercenaries and transport—and used a stage setting like this five-star Parisian hotel for negotiations.

"Thank you." Agrib pushed his cup forward. He was on the wrong side of middle age, muscles sagging, waistline expanding, but still dangerous. He'd been a minor resistance leader decades ago and, despite late-won political legitimacy, hate and resentment were a way of life.

His thin mouth turned up in a false smile. "I have a gift for you, my friend."

"Gifts are unnecessary among friends." David put down the coffeepot, face blank to conceal his impatience. After two hours, they were finally getting to the reason for Agrib's presence. The contract David had signed to supply Agrib's political masters with weapons and weapons training was not sufficient in itself for this visit.

"Faroud! Bring in the box."

A hulking bodyguard appeared in the doorway, a plain cardboard box balanced on one palm. David's man stood at his shoulder.

David nodded and his man stepped back. Agrib's bodyguard entered and gave the box to Agrib.

The manner of Agrib's reception of it was odd. His tight grip dented the cardboard, but he held it away from his body. The triumph and resentment in his eyes was marred by—

Fear?

It couldn't be an explosive device. Agrib valued his hide too highly to risk his own safety—even when eaten up with envy. Despite the honeyed words, they weren't friends. Agrib resented David's relative youth and wealth.

"It is yours, my friend." Agrib pushed the box across the coffee table. "A gift to one I know appreciates antiquities."

"My thanks." The box was lighter than expected, a fraction taller than the length of his hand but significantly narrower. The top of the box folded in on itself. David untucked the tabs and a couple of foam packaging balls spilled out.

Agrib watched avidly. His bodyguard had departed. David's lingered in the doorway.

David plunged his hand into the foam and touched smooth glass. He got a firm grip on the sinuous curves and pulled out a bottle.

Parisian spring sunshine streamed in the window and lit the bottle with red fire. It glowed the color of fresh blood, a rich rare color created by the addition of gold in the glassmaking process. The bottle nestled into the curve of his hand.

The elegant shape proclaimed it the work of a master craftsman. The thickened base provided mute evidence of its age. Ancient glass always sat thicker at the bottom.

It was an object to covet.

The unexpectedness of it astonished David. His gaze flicked up, his eyebrows drawing together in a quick frown. "A beautiful gift."

Agrib lit a cigarette. The smoke swayed upward, weaving patterns on the gentle air currents. He narrowed his eyes against the sting of it.

"You are most welcome, David." Satisfaction and anticipation laced his words. "There is a story that accompanies the bottle."

"Please." David invited the story. He set the bottle on the coffee table with a final caress.

His bodyguard retreated from the doorway.

"The bottle is old, so old that it is said Solomon commissioned it. He had Jerusalem's master glassblower create seventy-seven bottles, each recognizably different to the others." Agrib broke off. "Do you know about the djinn?"