Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? Read Free Page A

but right now, attraction was a mild description of what he was feeling. He grinned wickedly, reaching up to slide her glasses off. She took a step back, bumping into a stool. Antonio leaned forward, tilting his head slightly, just a breath away from a kiss.
    Her pink tongue darted out, moistening her lips. “Water. Need water.”
    “Water?”
    She nodded. Her hair tumbled over one side of her face and she giggled, a throaty, sexy sound.
    “I can do that.” He straightened and turned to the bar. “Water for the lady.”
    Sam leaned a bit to look around him, grinned and reached under the counter, bringing up an icy bottle. “On the house.” His blue eyes twinkled and he returned to his chores, chuckling quietly. The file still lay on the bar, so Antonio tucked the photo back into his jacket and fished out a business card, leaving it for Sam. He grabbed the slim file. He’d pretty well memorized all it contained, but still, it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose it. Jedidiah -- and the entire paranormal community -- would have his head.
    He shrugged and turned, and then froze. She was gone. The front door hadn’t been opened and there was no sign of her anywhere. He looked around and spotted a dark corridor. An exit sign glowed at the end of the hall and Antonio tossed the bottle up into the air, deftly catching it as he began his pursuit.
    He had a bottle of water for the lady.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    The sickening lurch of land sickness receded the moment Coco set foot onto the floating dock. When she nimbly hopped onto her paddle board, her mind cleared as well. She pushed off into the seawater canal, grateful the tide was still in and she was able to gain a bit of distance from the Latin hottie she’d been flirting with back in Sam’s bar.
    Poor Sam. He’d nabbed more than he’d counted on in that tax sale. The bar was filled to the brim with paranormals. In fact, the building might be sentient itself. She wondered if he’d ever catch on.
    She deftly paddled, not too fast. She didn’t want the man to lose her. He was yumminess wrapped up in sin. And if he really was a Siberian, he might be able to coax her animal back out from wherever it was hiding. She could hope, anyway. Coco sighed and shifted her weight, watching the occasional strand of seaweed float by.
    She was head blind without her animal. Confused, lonely and alone. She blinked back tears and continued slowly up the canal, no particular destination in mind. She might just head out to the beach and spend the night looking up at the stars.
    A frisson ran over her skin, warning her of the danger in that idea. No beach tonight. So maybe she hadn’t lost her animal after all. Just her mind.
    She dipped her paddle into the water, and then let the momentum carry her a bit further. It was late but still light out. She looked back into the water, wondering if any mermaids were out and about tonight. Lately, talking to the fish had been the only intelligent conversation she’d managed.
    “Hello there, Coco.”
    And there he was, waiting in the shadows, much too far along for a mundane human to have run. He wasn’t carrying a briefcase, so the folder he’d shown Sam must be tucked inside his expensive suit.
    He wore ivory-white linen. In her opinion, all the white-suited playboys in Miami just looked ludicrous, but this man made it work. His skin gleamed like sweet caramel. His black hair waved back and was expertly styled. He was young despite the silvery streaks glinting within his mane of hair. His dark eyes shone with licentious humor, and his smile gleamed against his honey skin.
    Dulce de Leche on the hoof. And that subtle Brazilian accent? Mmmm. She nearly licked her lips.
    “Hello.” She dug in the paddle, slowing the board and swinging it about. “I didn’t catch your name.” She might be incapable of controlling her idiotic behavior on land, but she could still think clearly enough to catch the basics. She’d heard bits and