Free The Diamond Secret by Ruth Wind Page B

"Shall I read your palm?"
    I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess," I said. "I'm going to meet someone tall, dark and handsome."
    He raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling. "That has already happened." With a sideways smile, he bent over my palm and spread open my fingers. It seemed somehow intensely intimate, previewing a different sort of spreading, and I found heat touching my ears, a strange, Victorianesque reaction.
    He brushed the hollow and pads and rises with the very tips of his fingers, and in my weariness, I was mesmerized by the look of his fingernails, clean half moons, somehow sturdy-looking.
    "Mmmm," he said, and traced a line down the middle of my hand, top to bottom. "This is a fame line," he said. "Not everyone has one. It means you will attain great reputation through your work."
    "Or I'll be a pet of the paparazzi."
    He flashed a quick smile. "Here the heart and life line join. You are stubborn, but felt betrayed by your family."
    "I'm so not amazed that you knew that."
    He went back to the perusal of my palm, and he seemed absurdly serious after a few minutes, studying this and that, lifting my hand to see more light on the palm, grunting a little.
    "Will you stop that? You're scaring me."
    "You have markings that are most unusual. Having one is interesting, two would be a surprise. I have not seen anyone with three." He looked up at me. "You have a very powerful destiny, Sylvie."
    "Again, that's my father's mark in my life. He's the famous one."
    "You will be, too, for work you do yourself. A fame line comes from your own efforts." He made an x on the pad below my forefinger. "This is a star of destiny. It's very powerful, this mark. It's the one that says you will experience greatness in some endeavor."
    I gave him a half smile. "You sound so serious."
    His glossy lashes did not lift. "I have never seen these marks, Sylvie, though I have heard people speak of them. It is intriguing." Again he stroked the lines. "I wonder what it is you will do?"
    I didn't want destiny or anything difficult for tonight, and said, noncommitally, "Who knows?" I took a breath. "Tell me something else."
    "This," he said, moving his finger, "is your heart line. It is both strong and broken at times. You will love boldly, and your heart will break. It has broken twice to now."
    I must have winced or jerked, because he looked at me in surprise. "Yes? Twice?"
    "Well, how hard would that be to guess? I'm old enough to have had at least two."
    He pointed to the middle line, side to side. "And there is marriage here, though I do not see children." A frown pulled his brows toward that aggressive nose. He tipped my hand to the side, looking at the edge. "Ah, here. Perhaps one child after all. That's good."
    "I'm not sure I'm all that interested."
    "No," he said, without looking at me, "you are a woman who will find pleasure in your child. A daughter, perhaps," he added, raising his eyes, "to spoil a little, no?"
    I shrugged lightly, but I liked the idea of it, somewhere deep inside of me. A daughter, yes. With my mother's thin nose and graceful hands.
    Keeping his eyes on my face, he lifted my hand to his lips. I didn't pull away—I let him press my knuckles, one at a time to the heat of his lush mouth. Just beyond the angle of my knuckle was a hint of moisture, the give of flesh.
    One kiss, two, three…
    I was exhausted, disoriented by the shift in circumstances, and much too drawn to him. I took my hand away. "Let's not," I said.
    "Are you afraid of me?"
    "It would be the sensible thing," I answered, "but no."
    That pleased him. His white teeth showed. "Good."
    As I sat there, the world started to drag, like an old-fashioned cartoon, the sound slowing and slowing, even while I peered at him, genuinely trying to concentrate. Jet lag was starting to press into the folds of my brain like a hot towel, pressing down, ever thicker, into the creases of gray matter until all systems were buzzing with exhaustion.
    "I have to sleep," I said