Haunting Jasmine by Anjali Banerjee Read Free Book Online

bookstores? “What are you doing here, Mr. Hunt?”
    “Research.” He shoves a book back onto the Fun New Arrivals shelf: 101 Uses for an Old Farm Tractor .
    “You have an old farm tractor?” I wish I could hide behind a bookshelf. I hope he can’t tell that I’m going commando.
    “Not exactly.” He gazes at my slacks, the rabbit slippers, and smiles. “But the title looked… intriguing.”
    “The book is obscure. This one, too.” I grab Across Europe by Kangaroo . “Who on earth would travel this way?”
    “Someone adventurous?” He smiles. His eyes look darker today, more intense. “But this family took a van across Europe, not a kangaroo.”
    “False advertising.” A book falls on its side on the shelf, making a dull clapping sound. I pick up the book— Be Bold with Bananas by Crescent Books. “Look at this picture. Makes me never want to eat another banana. Are they sliced or glazed? And what are those red things? Who buys this kind of book?”
    Connor peers closely at the cover image. “Someone impulsive? Someone who departs from the ordinary?”
    I put the book back on the shelf. “A bookstore is a business. My aunt needs to pay more attention to turning a profit, not departing from the ordinary.”
    “Isn’t reading all about departing from the ordinary?” He’s staring at me, his gaze pinning me again.
    “Sure, if you’ve got time for it….”
    “That’s it? You have no interest in unusual book titles? I’m doing research on unusual tomes.”
    “I’m sure my aunt has many more in other rooms as well. You’re here early, doing your… research.”
    He glances at his watch, an old silver chronograph with a leather strap. “Is there a law against showing up when the store opens?”
    “I’m not sure if the store is open yet… technically.”
    “I like to get here before the crowds descend.”
    What crowds? “Well,” I say, exhaling, “I’ll go and find my aunt.”
    “Wait, not so fast. You’re so quick to reject me.” He touches my arm, sending a peculiar electric wave through my body.
    I pull away, startled. “I have work to do, and I don’t know anything about you.”
    “I’m a doctor. I used to live on the island, many years ago. I traveled quite a bit, and now I’m back, visiting. I’m thinking of settling here again. What else do you want to know?” His gaze follows my rabbit slippers up past the purple pants to my black turtleneck sweater, and I feel, somehow, as though he has magically removed every piece of my clothing.
    “So, you’re a doctor?” I say quickly, annoyed. “What kind of doctor?”
    “Internal medicine. And you? What do you do?”
    My fingers are slowly thawing. I need to buy gloves. “I’m an investment manager.”
    I can’t read the expression in his eyes—assessing, hungry, critical? “You don’t look like one.”
    “And you don’t look like a doctor.”
    “I don’t normally dress this way.”
    “Me, either. I had a run-in with a rogue wave on the way here.”
    “I’m glad you survived.”
    I glance down at Auntie’s orange socks, the rabbit ears. “I didn’t know my aunt had these slippers. Better than pumps, I guess. More comfortable.”
    “That’s why I like this place,” Connor says. “The absence of pumps. Not a single pair on the whole island. I believe the dearth of shoe stores is what keeps this place so quiet and rural. Stops people from moving here. That’s my theory.”
    “It would certainly keep my ex-husband away.”
    One eyebrow rises. That piercing gaze again, a doctor’s gaze. I wonder if he notices the pulse in my neck. “Your ex liked shoes?”
    “Had way too many of them. Armani, Rockport, Ferragamo. He was a shoe junkie.” I’m telling Connor Hunt too much.
    “So you’re single now, free of all those shoes. Have coffee with me.”
    “We’re back to that. I have a bookstore to run.”
    “And you don’t date because your bastard ex-husband screwed you and now you can’t ever fall in