Breaking the Rules Read Free Page B

your own life.” The words emerged with a quiver of apprehension. People always wanted more than she could give. She could only read the future, not make it happen. And fate was not a hard, immutable thing, but a frame of possibilities, constantly shifting, changing, as destiny and circumstance writhed together in their unscripted dance.
    “You owe me one night, then.” His low voice rumbled through the smoke and darkness, setting off a vibration that echoed deep inside her.
    “No.” She choked the word, hands fisting into her skirt. Smoking trails of heat simmered through her body where his eyes danced over her.
    “An evening. Dinner.” He tilted his head slightly, thoughtfully, as if contemplating an unfolding scroll of possibilities. That bitter laugh shook him. “Dinner and a movie, just like regular folks.”
    “It’s not a good idea.” Nerves all on edge, she resisted the urge to shrink away from him. Her nipples strained against the fabric of her shirt. Her fingertips hummed with unwelcome anticipation as she buried them in the folds of her skirt and struggled to stay totally still. To resist his power.
    “I don’t care if it’s a good idea. I did everything right and look where I am now. A bad idea is as good as any, as far as I’m concerned. Are you afraid of me?”
    Yes .
    “No.”
    “Then why not? You’ve got to eat. I’ll buy you a good dinner. I’ve got to eat, too. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
    Her nerves shrieked an alarm of warning. But woven through the wail of fear was an opposite call—a siren song bidding her to taste the dangerous and forbidden fruit of dinner with the handsome boy she’d seen in her globe so long ago.
    To taste the freedom she craved.
    She consulted her sixth sense—her bread and butter, the precious gift she’d cultivated until it was stronger than her other senses.
    Silence and darkness. No answers forthcoming.
    “Come on.” He reached out a hand. Her eyes fell to the thick muscles of his forearm, the tan skin sprinkled with tiny dark hairs. Warm human flesh reaching out to her.
    “Okay.”

 
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
    T he rumble of the corrugated metal awning shuddered through Susana’s body. It clanged to the ground with grim finality. She pulled the key out of the padlock with an ominous sense that she was leaving behind the safe little world she inhabited and stepping out into a fearsome new universe of possibility.
    She tucked the key into her pocket.
    Joe stood there, features thrown into relief by the harsh glare of the streetlights, hands shoved in his pockets, oblivious to the strangers pushing past him.
    “Ready?”
    She nodded. And swallowed. She’d never been to dinner with any man other than her cousins Janus and Roman. If they knew she was about to have dinner with a complete stranger–worse, a gadjo …
    They’d better not find out.
    She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
    “Where do you want to go?” Joe offered her his arm. The gesture startled her–formal, and yet so intimate. An invitation to touch him right there in the street. She lifted her elbow and cautiously threaded her arm though his.
    Tiny hairs stood on end, mingling as the crooks of their elbows intertwined. Susana struggled to keep her breathing shallow as the odd sensation of touching a man heated her blood and quickened her pulse.
    “Indian?” He turned his head to her. “We could go to Sixth Street. What kind of food do you like?”
    “Indian food sounds good.” It sounded good partly because her cousins disliked spicy food so she was unlikely to run into them there.
    And partly because she liked it.
    “Let’s go.” He flashed her a quick smile, and she instinctively smiled back. Weird . They set off walking at a slow pace, arm in arm.
    Her long skirt rustled about her legs and she wished she were wearing jeans. Granna always said fortune-tellers should dress the way people expected, as it inspired confidence. She’d prefer to have the