The_Demons_Wife_ARC by Rick Hautala Read Free Book Online Page A

course I’m not married.”
    Samael slid
his hand across the table and patted the back of her hand, like he was
reassuring a child. Something within her didn’t approve of the gesture—it
seemed a little too patronizing, but she had to admit that his touch sent a
tingle up her arm.
    “It’s just
there are some…some clients of mine here, and I’d prefer them not to see me.”
    Claire
bristled at that, wondering if, for some reason, he might be embarrassed to be
seen in public with her. Apparently reading her mind, he tightened his grip on
her hand and said, “I prefer not to discuss my business when I’m trying to
relax…with a beautiful woman, I might add.”
    Claire kept
looking away, scanning the patrons in the restaurant and wondering how any of
them might be connected with Samael. Most of them—the ones she could see
clearly, anyway—seemed not to be enjoying either their lunches or their
environment. Their expressions struck her as superficial…plastered on while in
public to be removed—like masks—when they were alone. She attributed the
curious deadness in many of the people’s faces as “symptoms” of their empty,
pointless lives. She, on the other hand, had never felt more alive.
    They engaged
in small talk throughout their meal, and Claire found herself swept away simply
listening to Samael speak…and looking at him, watching him was divine. She felt
giddy and found herself laughing at the most mundane things. She had to keep
reminding herself to play it a little cooler. No sense looking like a yokel
from the “County” on their first real date.
    After a while,
before dessert, Samael excused himself and went to the restroom, so Claire sat
there staring off across the harbor while trying to rein in her racing
thoughts.
    This is all
going too fast…
    She couldn’t
deny that Samael was special…unique, and she was determined to take this as far
as it would go, not to let him get away if she could help it, but she kept
warning herself not to go too far too fast.
    Let whatever
is happening here evolve on its own time …
    Que sera,
sera…
    If it’s meant
to be, it’s meant to be , and dozens of other meaningless platitudes
rolled through her mind, but something inside her wanted to dismiss them and
say, “To Hell with all of it…I’m gonna jump!”
    After a while—How
long?… It could only have been a few minutes—she realized Samael had been gone
longer than seemed necessary. The panicked thought that he had ditched her
again sent tingling chills through her.
    She shifted in
her chair and kept glancing in the direction of the restrooms,
wishing…hoping…praying he would return soon. An almost childish desperation of
wanting never to let him out of her sight filled her with longing. At the same
time, the feeling struck her as amusing.
    What the
hell’s the matter with me? She kept asking herself as she stared out over
the water, tracking a lobster boat as it slid slowly toward one of the
commercial wharves. The wake cut a foam-ridged ‘V’ in the blue water. Seagulls
swooped and darted around the stern of the boat, looking to steal any bait from
the bait barrel or that might fall into the water.
    You’re
infatuated…that’s what…with his kindness…his essence.
    “Hey, there.”
    Samael’s
voice, coming so suddenly from behind, startled her and made her jump, almost
spilling her coffee.
    “Don’t ever
sneak up on me like that again,” she said, laughing.
    “What? Jumpy?”
    Claire
scowled.
    “Sorry,” he
said as he pulled his chair away from the table and sat down. A mischievous
smile curled his mouth. “So.” He clapped his hands together. “You want
dessert?”
    Ah, the
eternal question ,
Claire thought. Eat dessert…be happy…and get fat?…Or stick with the ole’
diet?
    “Maybe split
something?” she offered, trying to take the middle road.
    “You like
blueberry pie? They bake an incredible blueberry pie here,” Samael said.
    “Sure. I love
pie,” Claire