Genie In A Bottle

Publisher: Liquid Silver Books

ISBN 1-59578-090-4

Available now.

Paranormal Romance Novella

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Being imprisoned in a bottle should have tamed the trouble-making genie, Kalisandra Ilana Norvan Shalivar, but when an irresistible man frees her, her past transgressions become the least of her problems.

Tristan Mitchel has had a rough year. First his father dies, then his wife. Now he’s stuck with a position of CEO he doesn’t want, a half-brother who despises him, and a woman who wants him at all costs. Could things get any worse?

When he discovers a mysterious bottle and releases the mesmerizing and mischievous woman hidden inside, his life changes in an instant. Now he has a genie willing to grant his every whim and desire, including some desires he didn’t even know he had. Unfortunately, no one warned him how dangerous falling in love with a genie could be for both of them.

Will he be able to survive the threats to his life, his happiness and … his love?

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Excerpt

Prologue

“Kalisandra, you’re going to get us both in trouble with…” Merlinda stopped and nervously glanced around the massive Great Hall.

“You can say his name, Merlinda. Fire will not rain down from the heavens.” Kalisandra sighed and continued to look through her book of spells.

The ancient parchment crinkled and crackled as she gently turned the pages. These books were so old, but the elders refused to transfer them to newer paper.

Sunlight spilled through the wide windows along the sidewall, illuminating the book. The hall was relatively empty, everyone except her and Merlinda were in study groups. Kalisandra had once again been caught doing something she shouldn’t, and had been ordered to clean the Great Hall. Her friend was happy to keep her company; at least, she was until she’d found out her plan. Now, all Merlinda wanted to do was to keep reminding her of the trouble they could get into.

“Well, it should. I can’t believe you’re going to actually dabble in magic after you’ve been expressly forbidden to.”

“If you’re so uncomfortable with it, go somewhere else. Besides, isn’t magic what genies do best?”

“Some genies. I’m afraid you don’t fall into that category.” Merlinda paced, her velvet shoes gliding soundlessly across the marble floors, silk skirts swirling around her legs like a cloud. Long ringlets of black hair cascaded down her back, providing a stark contrast to her white dress.

They all wore the same things. Day in, day out. Just once, Kalisandra thought, she would like to wear something different. Show her individuality. Blinking, she realized her friend was still talking.

“And you shouldn’t refer to yourself as a genie. You’re a Jinn. A genie is what those humans call us.” Her lips curled slightly and Kalisandra bit back a grin.

“Those humans? Have you seen them? Some of them are quite divine. Even for a human.”

“Really, Kalisandra.” Merlinda shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s just disgusting.”

“Oh, Merlinda. You’re such a snob,” she grumbled, flipping another page, looking for just the right spell.

“What’s a snob? Have you been sneaking peeks at the humans through the Head Master’s magic ball again?”

“Well, how else am I supposed to see the other dimension they reside in?” she replied huffily.

She loved watching the humans. They were so interesting, their lives so simple. Sometimes, she wished she were one and didn’t have to remain here. She felt trapped and confined. There were so many rules here to follow, so much that had to be learned. She’d been learning for almost three hundred years. It was time they let her put what she’d been taught to good use. Unfortunately, her friend and the Head Master believed differently.

“You’re going to find yourself stuffed in a bottle if you’re not careful,” Merlinda chided.

“They haven’t put a Jinn in a bottle since King Solomon.” Kalisandra snapped the book closed with a smile. “Okay, you ready?”

“Absolutely, not. Why can’t you just clean the room with your hands like the Head Master told you?”

She frowned at her friend. The woman had no sense of adventure. “He told me I could not snap my fingers and make it happen. He never said anything about an incantation.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Oh, Merlinda. Stop being such a wimp. Now, back off over there and give me some room.”

Turning her face toward the ceiling, Kalisandra closed her eyes and spread her arms wide. She softly chanted the words of the spell, letting the magic flow through her, around her. Electrical current ran along her arms and out of her fingers, leaving trails of tingling warmth. The closer she came to the final line, the louder her voice rose, echoing through the massive hall.

Suddenly, the room began to shake beneath her feet, and she gasped, trying to retain her balance. The four windows along the far wall burst inward, scattering glass throughout the room. Both girls screamed and shielded their faces from the stray shards raining down around them. Pieces of the elaborately painted ceiling fell, plaster shattering on the floor around their feet.

Opening her eyes, Kalisandra took a quick, startled look at the damage. Coughing, she waved her hand before her face, trying to dispel the dust and get a better view.

“Kalisandra!” Head Master Shorvon’s voice echoed through the halls, rattling what remained of the glass.

With a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes, preparing herself for the worst. “Oh, dear.”

His footsteps shook the floor beneath her as his large form stomped through the huge, golden doors on the other side of the room. Swallowing down a lump of fear, she turned to face him.

He took one look at the mess and raked a large hand through his long blond hair. His massive frame appeared even larger as he glared down at her, amethyst eyes ablaze with fury. She’d really done it this time.

“Didn’t I expressly tell you, no magic?” he asked. His quiet voice giving no hint to the anger Kalisandra was convinced seethed through him.

“Yes,” she whispered, turning her eyes to the plaster-laden floor.

She heard his heavy sigh and peeked at him through her lashes. Her heart pounded in her chest at what he might do for punishment this time.

“Shoonar,” the Head Master turned to glance at his assistant. “Bring me a bottle.”

Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. They didn’t do that anymore. The very idea was archaic.

“A bottle, sir?” the assistant queried.

“A bottle.”

“You can’t be serious,” Kalisandra cried. Her hands shook with the thought of being trapped in a glass tube. It was her worst nightmare. A hell totally unimaginable.

“I’ve tried to make you behave, Kalisandra. You repeatedly break the rules. This time you went too far.” He waved a hand around him, indicating the demolished great room. “Look at the hall.”

“I can fix it,” she tried to reason. Her lower lip began to quiver. She just couldn’t go into that bottle. “I know I can fix it.”

“No, Kalisandra. You were supposed to be fixing it when you did this. It’s time you learned your lesson, and maybe a thousand years or so of confinement to think about your transgressions, will be just what you need.”

“But what if someone finds the bottle and opens it?” she asked. Glancing at Merlinda, she noticed her friend crying, the tears streaming down her face. It would be years before they saw each other again. If they ever did at all.

“Then according to law, you will be his and will serve him in all ways until he makes his third wish. For your sake, I hope whoever it is, has the patience of Allah.” Shorvon turned and took the bottle from his assistant. With a sorrowful look at Kalisandra, he pulled off the top. “I’m sorry, Kali,” he whispered, pointing the opening at her. “Kalisandra Ilana Norvan Shalivar, enter the bottle.”

Only by reciting her full given title, could he imprison her within the glass cage, and she flinched with each name rolling off his tongue.

“No,” she shook her head, fighting the pull of the glass. It was like suction, tugging at her body, her soul. “No!” she screamed as her limbs turned to blue smoke and floated into the opening.

He was really doing this. He was really going to throw her out for some human to find and control, to use as they saw fit. From inside the bottle, she watched as he sealed her tomb. Dropping to her knees, she sobbed, the horror of years within the confines of the small space tearing her apart.

Slowly, she lost consciousness as her body slid into the half sleep that would keep her from going mad. There she would await the master that would free her.

Chapter 1

Tristan Mitchel strolled along the deserted beach, his open shirt blowing in the offshore breeze. It felt good against his heated skin. Flexing his shoulders, he breathed in a whiff of the salty sea air.

He loved this small island. He’d found it about seven months ago, just after the death of his wife, Sherry. The car accident had probably been a godsend to her. It had finally allowed her to escape what she considered, the miserable existence of their marriage.

“Ouch!” he cried out. He glanced down to see what his toes had hit. Sticking out of the sand was the tip of a glass bottle. He scowled at the thought of someone littering such a beautiful beach, but when he squatted for a better look, he realized it wasn’t a discarded beer bottle, but something extremely old. Had it been buried under the sand all this time, or recently washed ashore?

He picked up the bottle and brushed the sand away, staring with interest at the unusual scroll design around the middle. The sunlight reflected in the cobalt blue of the glass made it appear almost alive, as though something inside was moving.

Grabbing the top, he twisted it, finally working the wooden stopper loose. He put the tip to his nose and sniffed, catching a hint of flowers. Perfume, perhaps? Whatever it was, the thing was definitely ancient and water damaged. Maybe a storm had washed it ashore, carrying it away from a shipwreck resting at the bottom of the ocean.

Suddenly, blue smoke drifted up through the opening.

“What the hell?” he mumbled as he dropped the bottle, startled.

“Thank Allah, I’m finally out of there.”

Lifting his eyes in shock at the soft female voice, he gasped at the sight before him. She was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair framed an angelic face, accentuated by a pert, upturned nose and full, kissable lips.

Letting his gaze drop down her figure, he watched the flowing white silk gown swirl around her ankles. The thin material did little to hide the sexiest set of curves he’d seen in a while, and he felt his heart beat faster as she moved and stretched her body with cat-like grace.

He hadn’t been with a woman since Sherry had died, and the hardening of his crotch chose this totally inappropriate moment to remind him of that fact. Her eyes met his and his breath caught. She had the most unusual almond-shaped amethyst eyes.

“Oh,” she said, her hand flying to her chest in surprise. Her eyes raked over him in interest, a seductive smile spreading over her lips.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, just a little upset that his privacy had been intruded upon, no matter how sexy the package.

“Why, the bottle of course.” Her tiny hand gestured toward the glass container on the ground, and he snorted.

“Be serious,” he snapped. “I know good and well you didn’t come from that damn bottle.”

“You saw the smoke, didn’t you?”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Was this some sort of joke? “I’ll ask again, and I would appreciate an answer. Who are you?”

Once again, she smiled that angelic smile. “I’m Kalisandra. Your Jinn.”

“My what?” What the hell was a Jinn?

For a split second, a frown crossed her features. Her tiny pink tongue darted out to lick her lips, and his heart rate quickened ten-fold.

“I forgot. You don’t refer to us as Jinn. I’m your genie. Your servant.”

Tristan’s anger rose to the surface, and he clenched his hands. He was for the most part a patient man, but this was going too far. He didn’t like games, or women who played them. He’d had enough of that from his deceased wife to last a lifetime. “There’s no such thing as a genie.”

“Do you not believe what your own eyes show you?”

“I saw smoke, but I didn’t see you until you spoke. Did you come from there?” he asked, pointing toward the line of trees.

“No, Master. I told you. I came from the bottle.”

“What did you call me?”

“Master,” she replied simply.

He continued to stare at her, totally perplexed. Was she high on something? Or was this some sort of sick joke she liked to play on unsuspecting men? Well, two could play at this game. He’d call her bluff, make her admit he wasn’t her master and she his genie. “All right, genie. If things are as you say, then come here.”

She walked toward him without a second’s hesitation, her exquisite hips swaying slightly. He noticed she was barefoot, her tiny painted toes peeking out from under the skirt as she came forward. Funny how such small things could send his cock to immediate attention. He wanted to lift that skirt and see what else lay beneath.

Damn it.

She came to a stop directly in front of him, her amethyst eyes watching him expectantly. “What is it you wish of me, Master?” she asked. Her hands slid into the opening of his shirt and moved across his chest, exploring, teasing. “Would you like for me to please you?”

“How…” His voice cracked, and he gulped. The feel of her soft fingers against his skin did things to his insides that he hadn’t felt in years. “How would you please me?”

“However you wish.”

So much for calling her bluff.

“Okay, this has gone far enough.” He grabbed her hands and pushed her away. She actually looked sad, and he took two more steps back for good measure. “You are not a genie.”

“You require proof?” She nodded and snapped her fingers.

The next thing he knew, he was standing on his apartment terrace overlooking the Fort Lauderdale coastline. What the hell? He turned in a circle, his trembling hand brushed hair from his forehead. Was he asleep and having a dream?

He looked back at the woman, her lips spread into a self-satisfied smile. Glowering, he stepped toward her, “I want to know what the hell is going on. Right now. And while you’re at it, take me back to that island!”

“Yes, Master.” With a snap of her fingers, they were once again on the beach.

Taking a quick look around to make sure they were where they should be, he turned and walked away, trying to put some distance between them.

“Wait, where are you going?” she yelled, running after him.

He stopped suddenly, and she barreled into him, her face smashing against his back. “Ouch.” She grabbed her nose and scowled at him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t follow so closely.”

“Maybe you should accept the fact I am who I say I am.” She paled slightly before quickly adding, “Master.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, unsure what to do. He couldn’t deny what had just happened, no matter how badly he wanted to. But a genie? That’s insane. Genies were mythical, they weren’t real.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered.

“I beg your pardon?” Did he just say something out loud?

“We’re not a myth. We’re just as real as you are.”

“I didn’t say anything.” His pulse began to pound in his ears. He didn’t like this at all.

“You don’t have to. When I’m this close to you, I can read your mind. It’s part of being your servant so that I may anticipate your needs.”

“Oh, for the love of…” He shook his head and strode towards the shade of a tree. He’d been in the sun too long. A little shade and a nap would set everything right.

“I’ll still be here when you awaken.”

He froze, and spun around with a steely glare. “If you’re my genie, and you have to do what I say, then disappear. I do not wish to have a genie. Go back into the bottle and wait for your next master.”

“It doesn’t work that way. You must make three wishes first. And before you spout off three wishes just to be rid of me, you must know that the wishes must come from your heart. They must be thought out. Not just pulled from the air.”

“I thought you had to be close to me to read my mind?”

She looked down at the ground, her delicate eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “I didn’t have to read your mind for that. I just assumed that’s what you were about to do.”

“This is insane!” He slapped the sides of his thighs with exasperation.

* * * *

Kalisandra tried her best not to laugh. He wasn’t taking this well at all. The fact that he didn’t believe in genies surprised her. She thought all humans believed. It was considered an honor to have a Jinn as your servant. To be able to make three wishes was a gift any human would covet. Apparently, not this one.

He wanted nothing to do with her. She knew he found her attractive though, and she could certainly use that to her advantage. He was well groomed, but dressed strangely. More than likely, he was high up in society if she remembered her study of humans correctly. Only the wealthy kept themselves clean.

For the moment, she dismissed his attire to admire his body. Shoulders as wide as any Jinn, a narrow waist and long muscular legs. He had a rugged look to him, very masculine and … he was gorgeous. He was the kind of man that would make any woman weak in the knees with just a look. When she’d touched his chest earlier, the skin had felt smooth, the muscles hard. Just thinking about it made her moist between her legs.

Pleasing him would definitely be something she would enjoy. She just hoped she could remember everything she’d been taught. Whenever those blue eyes of his raked over her, her flesh heated up. He flicked his dark brown hair back in a gesture of impatience. He was so cute when angry.

“I can give you more proof if you wish.”

“I think you’ve given me plenty,” he said sarcastically. “I need to get back to my boat.”

“Of course, Master.”

“And stop calling me that, damn it,” he snapped, continuing toward the shoreline.

She watched him wade out into the water, her eyes glued to the movement of his firm thighs and tight butt until it was covered by waist-high water. Just as he reached the ladder to climb up the side of the boat anchored in the cove, she snapped her fingers, transporting herself to the ship.

In her study of humans, she didn’t ever remember seeing boats like this. Glancing around, she took in the high gloss of the wood finish, the silver adornments along the side and the unusual equipment lying around. For a fleeting second, she questioned how long she’d been in the bottle. Brushing that thought aside, she returned her attention to the man who was now her master.

She leaned over the railing just as he reached the top rung. He hadn’t yet seen her, his concentration on the ladder and his climb. “Do you need any help?”

He yelled in surprise and let go of the ladder. She winced as his back hit the ocean, a loud slap ringing in the air. That had to have hurt.

“I’m sorry, Master. Are you okay?” she asked, the second she saw his head emerge from the water.

His answer was a few expletives she didn’t ever remember hearing uttered before. “At least let me help you board.” She snapped her fingers.

“No!” he yelled, but it was too late.

He stood before her, his clothes dripping wet, blue eyes ablaze with anger. He reminded her of the Head Master and for the first time, she became nervous. She took a step back, putting some distance between them. “Let me dry you.”

“By all means,” he drawled.

She snapped her fingers and his clothes were dry. Quietly, she waited for what he would do next. The wind parted his shirt, and her gaze dropped to his well-muscled abdomen. Slowly, it moved upward along his smooth hairless chest to his dark nipples. She wanted to slide her tongue across those tiny buds, and feel his muscles twitch beneath her lips. With an inward shake of her head, she pushed that thought aside. He needed time to wrap his mind around all this, to accept what she was.

She couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Do you still need proof?”

He turned abruptly and brushed past her to the interior of the boat.

“Guess not,” she mumbled to herself.

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