Passion and danger in this life—and the next

Eryss Norling knows that she has lived through many lives. And she knows that she has had the same lover across the ages. But where is he now? After performing a summoning spell, she meets Dane Winthur. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but he’s also a scientist devoted to debunking the paranormal. How can he love a witch? And why are these two drawn to each other over and over? The answer to these questions is nothing that either of them could imagine. The fate that brings them together, life after life, is the fate that may destroy them—again.

“I never live to thirty?” Eryss gasped out as her heart fell.

Her thirtieth birthday was less than a week away. “Some man kills me? The same one? So many times?”

Midge nodded. “He must reincarnate, as well. And to find you in every lifetime? Has to be a curse. I am positive it was the same man in each reincarnation.”

“Did you get a look at his face?”

“No. But you know we never reincarnate into the same physical manifestation. I didn’t see your face, either. But that isn’t what’s important.”

“Of course not. Who is he? What is he?”

The witch exhaled and leaned forward, pressing her palms to the table, and said carefully, “A witch hunter.”

MICHELE HAUF has been writing romance, action-adventure and fantasy stories for more than twenty years. France, musketeers, vampires and faeries usually populate her stories. And if Michele followed the adage “write what you know,” all her stories would have snow in them. Fortunately, she steps beyond her comfort zone and writes about countries and creatures she has never seen. Find her on Facebook, Twitter and at www.michelehauf.com.

Taming the Hunter

Michele Hauf

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Author Note

Extract

Copyright

Taming the Hunter

Anacampserote (n.): something that can bring back a lost love

Winter Solstice...

After padding through the soft emerald grass that carpeted the floor of her sanctuary, Eryss Norling knelt before the altar she kept tucked between the pink-and-white petals of bleeding hearts and the cool winter stars of forget-me-nots. Behind those, crinkle-petaled hollyhocks bloomed as if it were summer. A dragonfly flitted among the leafy canopy that climbed to the top of the two-story glass-walled conservatory.

Tucking her long, loose chestnut hair over an ear, Eryss bowed to light the large yellow beeswax candle on the simple wooden altar. Then she turned to light the eight smaller blue candles she’d placed around the altar to enclose her in a casting circle. Between each of the candles she’d placed rose quartz and garnet crystals to heighten the energy and fill the circle with love and happiness. And resolve.

Her silver-green velvet robe splayed around her knees and legs as she twisted within the circle, brandishing the lit match. Closed by three braided-ribbon frog hooks over her breasts, the robe was a favorite piece she wore often when casting a spell. Talismans of silver, crow’s foot and bloodstone hung around her neck, sliding across the crepe-thin pink negligee she wore against her clove-scented skin. Blowing out the match dispelled sulfur into the humid air, and a waft of white smoke curled toward the morning glory vine climbing an iron trellis to the arched windows that formed a cathedral dome overhead.

Steeped in reverence, her movements were slow and thoughtful. She nestled a heavy, six-sided quartz wand with points at both ends in the sifting of black salt. After whispering a blessing for all that she had, all that she would know and all that changed with her footsteps through this realm, she bowed her head and touched her chest, where a tiny maroon line darkened her pale skin just below her breast. Her heartbeat thudded softly against her fingertips.

With her other hand she clasped the crystal-bladed athame and drew it across her forefinger, cutting a line through the whorls of her fingerprint. A few blood droplets splattered onto the black salt. Forget-me-nots bowing over the altar whispered delicious fragrance, entwining about the metallic tint from her blood, summoning earth elementals with the sweet perfume.

Setting aside the knife, she then beckoned forth the earth’s energies with her hands, focusing it toward the quartz. Closing her eyes, she began to hum deeply and from the base of her throat, channeling the vibrations toward her heart and then releasing them throughout her body.

“I have loved only one so many times,” she whispered. “In all my incarnations it has always been him. This I know.”

And yet in each of those incarnations she had lost him for reasons she could not divine. Her portentous dreams had never explained that frustrating point. That wasn’t the important question. What was important was that she see him, recognize him should he enter her life once again. For in her dreams, she had never seen his face. She knew no one reincarnated into the same visage.

There was only one way to recognize the one whom she had loved. And that was with a soul-deep knowing.

A cool cloud of red smoke diffused from around the quartz wand and billowed up over her hands. She kept her eyes closed, confident the elementals of earth and time participated in this sacred spell.

“When he returns to me in this life,” she said, “allow my soul to recognize his soul. Bind us with a love of the ages so that only death will part us.”

She blew out a breath through the red smoke. “So mote it be,” she ended.

And a force walloped her chest, lifting her from the kneeling position. Arms lashing out for security, she was thrown out of the casting circle. She landed hard on the grass before the green velvet sofa.

“What the...?”

Opening her eyes, Eryss saw tendrils of smoke curl and form into intricate arabesques before darkening into soot and dropping onto the quartz. A startling image. What did it mean? And she’d been physically thrown out of the casting circle. That wasn’t supposed to happen. What did such an expulsion portend?

Had she performed the anacampserote incorrectly?

“Yes,” she reassured herself on an intake of breath. Crawling forward on the grass, she leaned over the salt line and touched the black salt and soot. Rubbing it between her fingers dispersed a scent much like an ocean surf. Weird. But she would remain positive the spell had achieved her intention. “All will be well with my soul.”

Bowing to blow out the yellow candle, she then swept her hands to encompass the circle, taking out each flame of the smaller candles as she whisked air over them. An emerald-winged dragonfly swooped down and nestled in her hair as if it were a fancy barrette.

Now all she had to do was figure out what it would feel like when her soul recognized the one.

Chapter 1

Dane Winthur set aside yet another dusty accountant’s box filled with cards that dated back to the early 1900s. While the Agency had been established only a decade ago, they had been operating unofficially for over a century. During that century, detailed cards had been written on each weapon or entity they had encountered and/or confiscated for secure storage. Dane had volunteered to go through the files and verify that each had been entered in the computer database.

His laptop sat on a stack of flat boxes to his right. So far, about 75 percent of the card files had been entered. But there was no rhyme nor reason why one card had been entered and another had not. It was a grueling, time-consuming task, but he was the newbie on the block in the Agency, having been with them for only two years, so he didn’t mind some grunt work to prove his worth.

Besides, as a scientist by trade, he found the paperwork and attention to detail came naturally to him.

Now he fingered another yellowed piece of five-by-eight card stock that seemed newer than the other cards, most of which displayed frayed edges and coffee stains. Another weapon was listed on this one—a dagger that dated back to the thirteenth century. It had been marked as “To Note,” not something the Agency had in hand, but wanted to keep an eye on. He scanned the rest of the notes.

“Belonged to a witch hunter, eh?”

He typed the weapon ID number into the database. It didn’t bring up a matching record, so he was about to set the card aside on the “to be entered” stack when a name caught his eye from the description below the record ID information. “Edison Winthur?”

He read the description carefully and muttered the last line out loud. “Last known owner: Edison Winthur, California.”

Blowing out a breath, Dane sat back against the stack of boxes behind him in the depths of the storage facility the Agency had leased for the old records. A strange smile curled his lips, and he flicked the card between his fingers.

“My father?”

Two weeks later...

“I’ve tracked down a location for the dagger, Winthur,” Jason said over the phone.

Phone clasped to his ear, Dane tossed aside his surfboard and wandered across the sand to sit on a smooth boulder edging his property. A thermal wet suit allowed him to surf in the fifty-degree waters. January was always the best month to catch some killer waves. He’d noticed his cell phone glowing when he’d landed on the sand and had returned the call immediately.

“The witch hunter’s blade?” he asked Jason Meadows, who worked in Research out of his apartment in New York. All Agency positions were “in situ,” since there was no home office or official headquarters. Jason was a cyber guru who could tease out the most hidden of information from a jumble of bits and bytes.

“Yes, that one. Let me text you the address. It’s currently owned by an antiques store called Stuart’s Stuff. Hang on.”

Dane smiled at the flock of seabirds swooping over the beach. But his levity was more for the discovery he’d made weeks earlier while going through some of the Agency’s old files.

Dane was head of Weapons. Well, he was the only one in the department. It was newly created because there had been a need. Their crew was small and distributed across the United States and Europe. Tor Rindle was the head of the Agency and had been visiting the States when he and Dane had met—over the disintegrating fur, flesh and bones of a werewolf.

Yeah, that had taken a lot of philosophy-changing faith on Dane’s part. He was a geologist who had never met a conspiracy theory he didn’t want to debunk. But the werewolf? Dane had no choice but to believe. And he had been strangely thankful when Tor had told him about the Agency and offered him the job. Such work aligned with a weird memory he’d had from when he was eight. The Agency was secretive, which was cool. James Bond gadgets were not in abundance, though. They used science to debunk myth and the paranormal—to keep humanity safe from the real monsters.

Whether or not the dagger listed on the file card possessed any sort of paranormal powers hadn’t been recorded. Dane’s job was to rule out that sort of stuff. Or if not, to put a spin on it. Not that this was an official job. He was simply curious. Or rather, compelled after he’d seen his father’s name listed on the card. A man he had known only for the first few years of his life, and “known” simply meant that he’d been his son and had existed in the man’s life.

And to think the word compelled set his heart racing. The first time he’d learned the meaning of that word he had been eight. And the few times since then that a compulsion had come upon him, he’d always been whisked back to that time when his mother had found him standing in the basement, sword in hand. She’d been so angry. Outraged. He hadn’t understood.

But he was compelled to understand now, because it might fill in some integral knowledge he required to become completely whole. To simply know.

“Sent it,” Jason said over the line. “Do you know this one has a legend attached to it of belonging to a witch hunter? Not sure if the blade itself is supposed to possess magical capabilities. But you know, witches.”

“Yeah. Witches.” Dane chuckled. “It’s always something.”

Though he’d not encountered witches in his service to the Agency, he was always up for an adventure, both physically and mentally. And learning about new creatures? Fascinating stuff. Because really? The world was a better place thanks to the Agency’s ability to think fast and to explain away the unexplainable with complicated scientific terms and theories.

“So why this blade,” said Jason, “if I can ask? I mean, this isn’t an assigned job. What’s so remarkable about this item?”

Dane twisted at the waist and turned, which flexed his abs. His muscles were rapidly cooling, even with the warm suit to protect him from the chilly temperature. He wasn’t much of a sharer. Then again, Jason was an okay guy, and it wasn’t as though he was going to call up the boss and tell him Dane was using Agency time to pursue personal issues.

“The last known owner was my father.”

“Oh man, cool. So, was he the witch hunter?”

Dane chuckled. “I doubt that very much.”

On the other hand, what did he know about his father? Edison Winthur had died during a cave spelunking expedition. He’d fallen five hundred yards down a narrow chute, and his body had never been recovered. It had occurred a year after Dane’s mother had divorced him. Dane had been three when Edison died.

And still his mother’s words resounded loudly in his thoughts. Don’t be like your father. He was such a dreamer.

“Should I schedule you for a weeklong vacation so we don’t overbook you?” Jason asked.

Dane had to shake himself back from the haunting warning his mother had issued so many times. “Uh, sure. Give me a few days, at the very least.”

“Fine. I have a contact name for the shop owner. I’m texting that to you, too.”

“Where is this place?”

“In a northern suburb of Minneapolis.”

“Seriously?” Dane winced as a sea breeze skinned his face with a cold kiss. “Isn’t it, like, thirty degrees in Minnesota right now?”

“Do I sense an inordinate fear of the weather from the guy who surfs in January?”

“Never. But you know, anything below fifty is crazy cold.”

“Ha! You’ll have to bring along a sweater. Give me a call when you have the dagger in hand. Unless...you’re doing this one under the radar?”

“Not at all. The dagger wasn’t an assigned job, but I have no intention of keeping it a secret. Whatever I find will be documented, and I’ll address any issues regarding spin or how it should be stored when I’ve had a look at it.”

“Cool. I’ve got you scheduled through the week. I can arrange a flight for you, as well. Will text the details.”

“Thanks, Jason.”

Dane hung up and tugged at the zipper on his wet suit.

The key goal in finding this dagger would, with any luck, answer the questions he’d asked himself since he was eight. Was this the same dagger?

The secondary goal was more emotionally rooted in the limited knowledge he’d been given about his father. He’d always wanted to learn as much as he could about a man his mother had described as “having his head in the clouds.” And he’d lost track of how many times she’d admonished Dane not to be like his father.

Having one’s head in the clouds didn’t sound dangerous to Dane. Only if one also lacked logic and rationality, which he subscribed to. Always.

What an opportunity that would be, to hold something his father had actually owned. Or rather, to hold it once again.

But had the old man been a witch hunter?

“Doubt it,” he muttered, and grabbed his board.

* * *

Dane had joked with Jason about Minnesota being thirty degrees on this January day. Actually, it was two. Degrees. He’d left the beach for two degrees. And he felt both those single digits breeze through his lightweight wool jacket and permeate his tweed vest and the dress shirt beneath as the chill fixed itself into his skin and sent out wicked feelers for the network of his once-warm veins.

He rushed down a sidewalk edged with dirty snow heaps the city plow had pushed up as his cab had parked in the nearby lot. The concrete was white from the chemicals added to the sodium chloride used in abundance on the roads. The first time he’d ever heard the term “salting the roads” Dane had imagined a large kitchen saltshaker suspended from the back of a truck. His childhood imagination had been so vivid (when his mother wasn’t aware).

He had that very imagination to thank for being here right now. And he wasn’t sure whether or not it was something he should be thankful for. Fantasy was best served in small doses, and even then, only on the silver screen or the pages of a novel. Very well; his mother had been right.

Dane whispered his thanks when the antiques shop door opened to whoosh a welcoming warmth across his frozen cheeks. He huffed and clapped his gloved hands together, stomping his feet, even though there was no snow on his leather loafers. The weird stomping-clapping performance managed to get the warmth flowing through his system.

A kind-looking woman, who looked to be in her eighties, appeared from behind a glass case and sailed over to the counter, which was littered with an assortment of Halloween ornaments and wooden black cats, bright orange Halloween Festival buttons and a plethora of orange-and-black garland.

“I’m Dane Winthur,” he announced, with a chill invading his tone. “A colleague of mine should have called about a dagger two days ago?” Jason had said he’d handle alerting the shop that Dane was on his way.

“A dagger?” The woman shook her head and adjusted the frothy white hair piled loosely atop her head.

“Yes, uh... I was told Mr. Stuart is the owner? Is he in?”

“Mr. Winther, I’m so sorry, my brother and his wife are out of town for a family funeral. Just left this morning, actually. Oh, wait now. I do recall him mentioning something as he was going through the list of things for me to do in his absence. You’re the scientist, yes?”

Dane bristled but tried his best not to show it. The owner of this antiques shop had known he was coming to pick up the dagger. Traveling halfway across the United States and—he wasn’t here? That took some kind of nerve, to up and leave without calling to let him know.

“Yes,” he answered, calming his rising ire. “I’ve traveled from California to your lovely yet icy state for the dagger.” He patted his vest pocket, where he’d tucked the dossier and a printed photo of the dagger, and pulled it out. Unfolding it, he showed it to the woman. “Did Mr. Stuart leave it in your care?”

“Not exactly.” She squinted as she studied the photo. “Harold did mention you were coming as he headed off to the airport. He was in a hurry because they managed to snag a pair of last-minute standby seats for the flight to Hawaii. I’m so sorry, Mr. Winthur. You know how funerals are. Can’t plan for them.”

“Of course. Well. Does not exactly mean no, not at all, or maybe, I might know where the dagger is?”

“It means maybe, I don’t know where it is. I mean, I do know where it is, but I don’t have access to it. We were going to close the shop, because I’m not much for handling inventory and the finer items my brother stocks, but I do like to hand out my cookies to the locals. Help yourself.” The woman gestured to a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter that Dane hadn’t noticed before.

Now that he did, his frozen senses thawed and the scent of sugar and chocolate teased sweetly. He picked up a cookie. It was warm, bless the cookie gods. Had he been annoyed about something? Who could remain angry when biting into chewy, warm chocolate and sugar?

A funeral. He couldn’t possibly be rude and insist on anything, but he would nudge as best he could. “How long will your brother be away?”

“Four or five days. The flight takes almost a whole day, so that’s two days of travel time right there.”

“The funeral is in Hawaii?” A much better place—for a vacation or a funeral—than this Arctic tundra. “Lucky fellow.”

“Ah? Hmm...” She tugged the plate back to her side of the counter.

“Sorry. I mean, really sorry. For the, er, bereaved.” So he wasn’t a master at compassion. Feelings were so...complicated. “Did Mr. Stuart leave the blade in a safe or some such?”

“Oh, he did, but it’s a newfangled fancy-doodle kind of thing that requires him putting his eye up to it to open.”

“Oh. Biometric, eh? Quite a fancy-doodle thing, indeed.”

Especially for a run-down little shop that currently offered a sale on 1970s disco balls, as displayed in the front window. After New Years Discount! Get Them Before They’re Gone! Had he stepped into the seventies?

“I really do need to get my hands on that dagger,” Dane said. “The information I’ve collected about it states it once belonged to Edison Winthur. He was my father.”

“Oh, my. That’s mighty interesting. He’s passed?”

“Yes, when I was very young.”

“I’m so sorry.” The cookie plate was pushed closer. “Harold should have left the dagger out for me to sell to you, but he’s always been so careful about the weapons he sells. High security, and all that fiddle-faddle.”

“Fiddle-faddle can be a bother.” Dane crossed his arms high on his chest and fought to keep from asking if he could take a look at the safe. But it would be impossible to crack if it required the owner’s retinal scan.

“The agency I work for has a penchant for tracking down weapons with a fantastical legend attached to them.” He never explained the Agency beyond that. What people didn’t know regarding the Agency, they didn’t need to learn. “I’m also a geologist. The metals used in ancient swords and blades fascinate me.”

“I thought geology was rocks?” the old woman asked.

“It is, but the cold iron used in the—” Dane winced and nodded. “Yes, just rocks. Uh, so your brother will be back...when?”

“Friday.”

And today was Monday. Must he stay here an entire week? In what closely resembled a storm-ravaged tundra? And the old man had insisted someone pick up the dagger in person. He hadn’t wanted to send it by post. A wise decision when it came to weapons that could possess a volatile nature. Of course, Mr. Stuart couldn’t know about that. Or could he?

Hmm...

Dane smiled at the woman through a tight jaw.

“Will it be a problem for you to stay in our fine little town for a bit? There are hotels along Highway 10, not far from here. Oh! And there’s the Winter Fantasy Ball this evening over at the Bleekwood mansion. You might stop in. I suspect the local girls would love to marvel over such a fine, er, studious fellow as yourself.”

Dane nodded appreciatively even as he felt the back of his neck heat. A geriatric flirting with him? It was sweet. But a week in this icebox? He wasn’t sure his sand-and-surf blood could manage that long without freezing.

A biometric safe. Just his luck.

On the other hand, he did favor a rousing adventure. Learning to survive in the icy tundra? Sign him up!

He shoved a hand in his pocket, where he touched the comforting curve of a plastic Bic lighter. He always carried one with him. He wasn’t a smoker, but when he became agitated, he calmed himself by flicking it over and over.

Hey, to each his own.

He palmed another cookie and bit into it. “Tell me the best place to stay around here?”

Chapter 2

“Oh, Eryss! You look gorgeous!”

Eryss Norling turned to spy her coworker Mireio Malory flouncing toward her in an eighteenth century ball gown, replete with a pink powdered wig and décolletage cut low enough to make promises without a single spoken word. Eryss hugged her and smiled at Mireio’s signature sugar-candy scent, then tucked a stray bright red curl up under her friend’s wig.

“You must be Marie Antoinette?” Eryss guessed.

“Natch,” Mireio said, with a flutter of her lush false lashes. “She’s my spirit animal, you know.”

“I thought that was a mermaid.”

“That, too! And in a poufy dress! But look at you, all silver and blue and looking like the Snow Queen herself. Love the wig.”

Eryss adjusted the too-tight tinsel wig with a tug above her ear. She’d found it at the local costume shop just down the street from the brewery. “I wanted to get into the snow fantasy. Winter is my season.”

“And you never feel cold. Always so warm.” She clasped Eryss’s hand and squeezed. “See? You’re warm as toast. And my tits are in desperate need of a nice warm sweater. Or I’ll take a handsome male head lying on them if I can manage that. The eligible bachelor pickings tonight are slim. Have you seen Valor?”

“I think she headed to the kitchen to check the keg. We should have enough Iced Kiss for tonight, but there’s a lot of people here.”

The ice beer they brewed had a high alcohol content—and a touch of wintergreen mixed with quartz gem elixir—and they served it in shot glasses shaped like icicles.

The town’s annual Winter Fantasy Ball, held in the Bleekwood mansion every January, had been featuring The Decadent Dames’s microbrews for four years, as long as they had been in business in Anoka. Eryss was proud of their beers, but despite the rumors, she’d never confess that the four witches who owned the place also stirred in a bit of magic with each batch.

“I’m heading home,” Eryss said. “Your eligible bachelor count is correct. Unfortunately. And I’m restless. I need to ground myself in the conservatory.”

“Still having those dreams about the man? I thought you were going to cast the anacampserote?”

“I did perform it on solstice eve. Haven’t had another dream until last night. I dreamed again of the great love I once lost. I can never see his face. It’s a portent, I know. But with the spell cast, I should be able to recognize his soul should he come into my life. Though, you know, it might not be today or tomorrow. For all I know, it could be thirty years from now.”

“I don’t think so. You will find your great love when you are still young. Maybe you’ll get him for your birthday?”

Eryss turned thirty in a week.

“Sure, maybe. But I am in no mood to wander these bleak halls in search of some steamy man flesh. It isn’t going to happen tonight. I’m restless because I—aggh, I just need some hot and heavy sex, you know?”

“Darling, I know.” Mireio fanned her bosom and cast a glance about the ballroom, where the band had just ripped into a bouncing jitterbug. “There aren’t many men left in this town we haven’t served at the bar.”

“And after getting to know them from across the bar,” Eryss added, “I want to clock half of them over the head.”

“You’re telling me. We should drive downtown to Minneapolis one night. On a man hunt. Or try Tinder!”

“Ugh. Dating apps are for hookups.”

“Yeah, but sometimes a hookup is all a girl wants. You know? But wait, maybe you don’t know. You’re the one looking for the happily-ever-after. Oh, sweetie, you’ll find him.”

“I know I will.” Eryss chuckled at her friend’s hopeful dramatics. Friends would never admonish one another for wanting some mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex once in a while. She hugged Mireio. “Oh, you are freezing.”

“It’s the décolletage, don’t you know.” She ran her fingertips over her corseted bosom. “I can never stay warm in winter. Remind me why I live in Minnesota?”

“You were born here, and you love the changing seasons.” Eryss took Mireio’s hands and held them together between her palms. “Warmth,” she whispered with intention.

“Thank you,” Mireio said. “I felt that magic all the way to my toes. But just so you know, if your plan to open another brewery out of state comes to fruition, I vote for California.”

“Me, too. And it is on my list. I’ll see you tomorrow at the brewery.” She kissed Mireio’s cheek, being careful to avoid the little black heart patch. “I’ll make sure Valor has the new keg in place.”

“See you tomorrow!”

Valor had indeed already replaced the spent Iced Kiss keg with a new one. That, along with the half keg of the Uff Da IPA Lot, should last for the remainder of the evening. That beer name had been all Mireio’s doing.

On the way out, Eryss said her goodbyes to everyone. She knew many and many knew her because they frequented the brewery. A few knew her because they’d had occasion to believe and had been desperate. A love spell here. A breakup spell there. The repulsion spells against violent lovers were always difficult but necessary. Those who received the benefits of her craft kept their mouths shut, guarding Eryss’s secret.

It wasn’t easy being a witch, even if the town she lived in was the official Halloween Capital of the World.

At the top of the stairs that fronted the mansion, she stepped out onto the patio where a bonfire toasted partyers regaled in myriad costumes. The air was warm and tainted with ice and burned oak. Dozens of people stood around the fire with plastic champagne goblets and beer mugs in hand. Among the elves and witches and faery princesses were snowcat racers (the easiest way to bundle up and dress in a sort-of costume without looking out of place), loggers (lots of flannel and thick, warm boots)—oh, those lumbersexuals—and one daring caveman who wore a fur Fred Flintstone number that strapped over one shoulder. Poor guy, he might develop frostbite in places he’d never imagined possible.

Chocolate and marshmallow oozed out between graham crackers as s’mores were handed around. A game of ice bowling was set up along the side of the patio. The balls and pins had been chipped out of ice harvested from the nearby Mississippi River. Laughter sprinkled the air as if it were crystal snowflakes. The evening could be magical—if a girl had a man on her arm with whom to share those sweetly tempting s’mores.

Yet Eryss was an introvert and didn’t feel at all guilty about leaving the party early. She’d come to make nice with the locals because area businesses and the city council always invited the brewery to Anoka events, and—okay, she’d had the gown. Why not use it?

Though she wouldn’t have minded dancing, if any man had asked. Of course, she might have had to hang out near the dance floor for that to happen, and well, introverts didn’t tend to do such things.

With a nagging hankering for gooey marshmallow and chocolate teasing her, Eryss turned and was roughly bumped into from the side. “Oof!”

Though a deflection spell teased the tip of her tongue, she wisely held off from speaking the words. She and her fellow witches did their best not to flaunt their craft at public events.

“I am so sorry.” The man’s cold hands gripped her forearms to steady her. “I wasn’t looking. That was entirely my fault. I slipped on the ice.”

There was no ice on the fire-warmed concrete steps, but Eryss wasn’t about to point that out once her gaze landed on the man’s face. Deep brown eyes were shadowed by thick black brows. She had never seen such a rich iris color and thought perhaps there were also glints of gold winking back at her. A five o’clock shadow brushing his jaw emphasized an exquisitely masculine bone structure. Thick coal hair, swept messily back from his face, screamed for her to touch the loose curls that tickled those red ears.

And suddenly, her heart performed a skip and every part of her being stood up in recognition. Was he...?

“I’ve been looking for you,” she murmured in awe.

“Uh...you have?”

Giddy warmth flooded her heart. Her veins. Her skin flushed and she—well, she felt it in her very soul. This was the man. The one.

He had to be.

“Oh, what?” Eryss shook her head out of the deliciously muddling awe and back to reality. “Sorry. Did I say I was looking for you? I mean, uh...” What to say? She couldn’t come right out with the revelation that she suspected he was her long-lost soul mate. Just because the man gave off smolder vibes did not make him receptive to her beliefs of reincarnation. “You need a hat,” she decided quickly. “Looks like your ears are burning.”

He gave a funny wince. Obviously, he’d picked up on her comment, but wasn’t going to press. “They are. The blood vessels in my ears have started to constrict and blood is being shunted away from my extremities—ah. Ha-ha!” His smile revealed bright white teeth and squinting eyes that captured Eryss as if a love spell had been cast. “Sorry about that. I have a tendency to expound on silly things. Suffice it to say, I’m from the West. Didn’t expect it to be quite so cold.” He touched an ear and winced again.

“We call it frostbite here in Minnesota.” She marveled over the lingering laughter in his smile. Wonderful. And he was hers. Maybe? Yes, he had to be. But how to know for sure? “We should step over by the fire.”

“Yes, but you seem to be on your way out?”

Her gaze wandered to his broad shoulders, down the white shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal a manly dusting of dark hairs on his—oddly, tan—forearms, and to the thick veins that corded the back of his hands. Leave now when she’d just stumbled into the man she’d been waiting for?

“Leaving? Heck, no! Will you join me for a hot chocolate?”

“I should be honored to share libations with such a lovely queen,” he replied.

Libations? The man most definitely was not the standard bar slug or even a hipster (the brewery’s standard customer). And Eryss remembered that she had been feeling horny not too long ago. How lucky could a girl get to find her soul mate and have him be übersexy, as well?

When he offered it, she took his arm and allowed him to lure her over to the bonfire. They found a spot close enough to warm their hands but far enough away so as not to ignite Eryss’s sparkly skirt. The man with the sudden and seductive laughter got them hot chocolates from the bar posted outside the front of the mansion. It served eggnog, hot chocolate, hot brandy and some kind of drink called a Dirty Snowman. Despite her trade, Eryss didn’t like beer all that much, so she was thankful to sip something sweet with just a touch of alcohol.

“I’m Dane Winther, by the way.” He handed her a paper mug. “I was on my way inside to find my coat, but I suddenly find the need for warmth has dissipated. And I’ve yet to take a sip of this thick brew.” He winked at her. “Must be the company.”

A charmer? She could work with that. “Eryss Norling.” She offered her hand, which he shook. “Stand closer to the fire. You really need to warm those hands.”

He moved closer and wrapped both hands around the mug. After blowing over the hot chocolate, he took a sip. “Norling? I believe that means something like ‘they who come from the north’?”

“Got it in one guess. But I’ve always lived here in the north. I own The Decadent Dames brewery in town.”

“Ah, yes, I noticed that place. Across from the antiques store? I had wondered how decadent a beer could be, but you were closed when I passed by.”

“We had to finish kegging the Iced Kiss for tonight. We’ll be open tomorrow. And I promise a very decadent experience if you try the oatmeal cream stout.”

“I do like a nice dark beer. And chocolate.” He held up his mug, tapped it against hers in a paper-thud toast, then tilted back a swallow. “Mmm...you Minnesotans do know how to do hot chocolate. I think there’s booze in this.”

Eryss smirked. “It’s got crème de menthe in it. We call it a Chocolate Kiss.”

A bemused smile danced in his eyes, and once again captivated by his utter and easy merriment, Eryss swayed, but stopped herself as soon as she felt her body lean toward him, toward his interesting ocean-surf scent. It was a scent she’d recently smelled. But...where and when? Wow, she was really leaning close now. She did not want to scare the man away because he thought she was weird. Or excited over finding someone she had known for ages.

“Mmm, yes, it’s got a touch of mint in it. A kiss, indeed.” He grinned and took another sip.

His eyes actually smiled. And with all that thick, carelessly swept hair that virtually demanded a woman run her fingers through it, could the man be any cuter?

Eryss stepped closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder before the bonfire. The blaze toasted her cheeks. Or was that Dane? She loved the name. Very Nordic.

Did he feel the same way about her? As if he knew her? She jittered on her toes, knowing she stood next to him. The one!

Maybe. She shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She could simply be feeling giddy over bumping into one heck of a hot man.

“I’ll have to stop in to your brewery,” he said. “I find I’m on a forced vacation in your chilly little town. I was supposed to pick up a rare dagger from Stuart’s Stuff, but the proprietor is out of town.”

“Hawaii for a funeral. Isn’t that lucky?”

“I said the same thing, but I don’t think the owner’s sister found the humor in my wishing for warmer weather. Though she did allow me to take a second cookie.”

“Ha! Gladiola Stuart is discerning about whom she allows to have a cookie. Apparently, you passed the test. And I can see why.”

Eryss cautioned herself from drawing her gaze up and down his body in an indiscreet droolfest. She wasn’t that kind of girl. Mostly. She was much more stealthy, and had already checked out his ass when he’d gone to get the hot chocolates. Nice and tight. And no, he hadn’t given any indication that he recognized her in any way.

Chill, she cautioned inwardly. Do not freak the man out.

“Where did you come from?” she asked over her steaming mug. “I’m guessing someplace warmer by your thin shirt and vest? And the tan.”

He palmed his chest. The tweed vest granted him an astute, teacherly vibe, which, when added to the smoldering dark looks, Eryss found intriguing.

“I’m from Santa Cruz, about an hour from San Francisco. I’m afraid the tan is a permanent condition. And I had to buy a warm coat in the Minneapolis airport after I’d arrived. Can you believe I’ve never experienced snow before? And I’m a geologist.”

“You’ll be baptized by fire, or rather ice, here in Minnesota. What branch of geology?”

“Geochemistry. Which means I really like rocks. But I also dabble in botany and anthropological genetics. I like to have options.”

“I guess you do. I like rocks and plants. Genetics is beyond my grasp.”

“It’s my weakest field of study. But the little I know tells me that you had at least one blue-eyed parent to be sporting the color yourself. Gorgeous.”

Eryss parted her lips to speak, but then couldn’t think of a thing to say. He smiled a little when she caught him staring into her eyes. It was a flirtatious moment that made her giggle.

“So what are you dressed as tonight?” she asked.

“I didn’t have time for a costume. Gladiola Stuart told me about the party earlier. I guess you could say I’m a scientist.”

Eryss purred over the steamy chocolate. “I suddenly find myself quite fond of science.”

His brow lifted and a smile glittered in the man’s deep brown eyes. And like that, Eryss’s ovaries did the dance of joy.

“To science.” He offered his mug in another toast.

Eryss tapped her mug gently against his and shivered one of those good, warm-all-over shivers. First handsome man she’d met since the anacampserote, and here she was thinking he was the one.

Or was she overreacting because he was also the sexiest thing on two legs that managed to touch her with his dancing eyes and laughter?

“So you said you’re in town for a while?”

“Seems Mr. Stuart won’t be back for a week. Can you recommend some good restaurants and places to visit?”

“I probably can. But you’ll have to drive into Minneapolis for culture and fine dining.”

“I may do that. If I can find a car rental place. I took a cab here. Though I’m not so sure how I would fare driving on these snow-encrusted streets.”

“It does require some talent to navigate the black ice. But you’ll have a few good days before we get walloped again.”

“Walloped?”

“There’s snow headed our way. It’s going to warm up to the twenties, which provides great conditions for snow.”

“Warm up to the twenties,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I suppose you think that’s downright balmy?”

“Oh, it is.” It was always fun to tease the out-of-towners. In reality, Eryss wasn’t much for the below-zero weather, but she took it all in stride. Living in Minnesota afforded her all the seasons. Too bad winter generally lasted almost six months. “So what kind of dagger would a scientist be looking for?”

“There’s some fantastical lore attached to it, but I’m mostly interested in it because it’s supposed to be thirteenth century. The lore says it was forged with cold iron, and don’t get me started on the fascinating aspects of ancient forged metals. I’ll nerd out on you.”

“I like a nerd.” Especially one smelling like chocolate and mint, mixed with a hint of tweed. “I’m a bit of a brew nerd myself.”

“So you actually brew beer in your little place?”

“Yes, we’re a microbrewery. Me and three other women are all part owners. We’ve been friends for ages.”

“The Decadent Dames. Decadence is such a delicious word, don’t you think? It speaks of glamour and ritual, embellishment and desire.”

“And velvets and silk, and sweet spices and honey,” Eryss chimed in.

“I love that. What about warm summer grass threading between your toes and constellations of fireflies buzzing about the midnight sky?”

“Wow. You really miss summer, don’t you?”

“I do.” He sipped the cocoa. “But I’m learning winter does have its sweetness in the form of a lovely snow goddess.”

“It’s the tinsel hair. You just want to run your fingers through it, don’t you?”

“It’s the whole look. If you were carrying a wand that shot out snow sparkles from the tip, I’d totally buy into it.”

“You’ve seen Frozen.”

“How to avoid it when even the cereal I buy features the characters on the box? But I confess, I did see it. It was for a date.”

“You took a woman out to a Disney movie?”

“I wasn’t my first choice, but I didn’t complain. I got to pick the restaurant, so it was fun all around.”

The man was racking up some seriously sexy, dateable points. And Eryss wouldn’t even begin to calculate how many points he’d earn if he truly did turn out to be her soul mate.

“What kind of food do you like?” she asked.

“Seafood and good wine.”

“I can recommend an excellent Scandinavian restaurant for you to check out while you’re here. It would be a shame for you not to try lutefisk and lefse before leaving.”

“I’ve heard of lefse. A Norwegian staple made with flour and...”

“Potatoes. It’s like a very soft flatbread, and you butter it and sprinkle sugar on top. Roll it up, and have at it!”

“Sounds like a treat. Do I want to know what lutefisk is?”

“It’s seafood. Sort of. Whitefish soaked in lye. But if you cook it right, it’s awesome.” She noticed his distasteful swallow and laughed. “I haven’t eaten it since I was a kid. I know better now.” She winked at him.

Behind them, strains of music echoed out from the mansion. Dane took her hand, the one clasping the empty mug, and she startled. “Would you like to dance?”

Suddenly feeling more ungrounded than she ever had in her life, Eryss delighted in the airy lift to her being. “Yes, please.”

* * *

The winter queen bewigged with tinsel knew how to dance a waltz. And so did Dane, thanks to his mother’s insistence that a well-rounded man could make his way through life with ease and grace. Of course, she didn’t have to know he’d also taken martial arts classes and was a damn good hand at knife-throwing, courtesy of his own desires to round out his life. But as they glided about the dance floor and the song came to an end, he was thankful for the next, slower song so he could hold his partner closer and look into her eyes. Those mysterious blue eyes.

There was something about Eryss that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. She was pretty, but not in a conventional, overdone way where men’s jaws dropped and they stared long after she’d passed. She had flawless skin and bright eyes. A soft pink mouth and no visible blush on her cheeks. And yet Dane felt as if he had scored a dance with the most gorgeous woman in the world, for her attention warmed him to the bone and he was quite sure he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d taken the dance floor.

He leaned in close, brushing her cheek with his. He should have shaved. But she didn’t flinch or seem to mind his stubble. In fact, she nestled in closer, pressing her breasts against his chest and bringing their hands down so they swayed together in the middle of the dance floor, barely moving.

Yet his heart raced. He felt like the awkward geek he’d once been at high school dances. Nervous. Unsure. Most definitely not as suave as he liked to think he was. Was everyone staring at the fumbling nerd? And yet he’d scored the cheerleader this time, and hell, yeah, he wanted everyone to look at him.

Eryss tilted her head and whispered, “I feel airy when I’m with you, Dane. Not at all grounded.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Hmm...well, he didn’t want her to decide it was the latter, so he clasped one hand across her back and held her securely. Grounding her? He wasn’t sure how that worked, but the feeling took him and all he wanted to do was hold this beautiful queen and forget the unfortunate luck he’d had at the antiques store.

Something about this embrace felt...familiar? It was an odd thing to notice. He’d never met this woman. Surely he would remember those blue eyes. And he’d never once set foot in Minnesota before today.

He’d take the feeling for whatever it was, and count his luck as having turned toward the good side.

When the slow music segued into a bouncy beat, they paused and her eyes sought his. She asked, “Want to come to my place?”

Dane’s reaction went from surprised, to curious, to aroused in a matter of seconds. That had been an abrupt invite.

She didn’t blush so much as glow, even under the silly tinsel wig. “Uh, I think I can show you a little taste of summer. I promise I won’t molest you.”

He intentionally dropped the smirk. “Now I’m disappointed.”

She laughed. “Unless you want me to? Come on. I know where summer lives.”

He clasped her hand, and sucked in a breath at the sudden electric zing that coursed from that connection. It felt as if he’d been jolted by static electricity directly on the heart.

“Is something wrong?” she asked innocently.

Eryss peered into his eyes once again. He’d never seen this woman before. And yet...had he?

“You do recognize me,” she said with an effusive smile. And with that weird announcement, she tugged him off the dance floor. “Come with me.”

As they grabbed Dane’s coat and glided down the mansion stairs, Dane felt as though he was following a familiar path to something he had wondered about for so long.

Chapter 3

Bemused was one way to describe Dane’s mood. He’d only just arrived in Minnesota this morning. Had nearly slid into the ditch at the mercy of an angry cab driver while being transported from airport to northern suburbs. Plowed his way to the antiques shop. Learned he’d have to stay a miserable week in the tundra. Decided to check out a costume party on a night that featured single-digit temperatures. And now he was about to hook up with a pretty woman smelling like chocolate, mint and sage.

Maybe. This might not be a hookup. She could be taking him to her house to—hell yes, it was a hookup! With a woman wearing a silver wig and a blue gown glittering with spangled snowflakes. But he could see beyond the costume and knew she was more interesting than a meteor dug up from a farmer’s field. And he wanted to get to know her better. He had a week in this town. Why not start it off with a bang?

“Do you do this often?” he asked as she navigated her Prius down a dark road that was just out of the main city, as she’d stated. Her own little bit of sanity that edged the suburbs.

“What? Navigate icy roads wearing a snow queen costume?”

Dane chuckled. “No. Pick up stray scientists you’ve found bumbling about fire pits on frozen winter nights.”

“Ah. All the time! Though I’d never assign the word bumbling to you.” She laughed, and a slip of dark hair fell out from under her wig. “No, this is a new one for me.” She clicked on the turn signal and slowed for a right. “But how could I resist a scientist looking so out of his element and in need of a little tender-loving summer?”

“Out of my element? Yes. I prefer carbon.”

“Ha! A science joke. My element is earth, in case you’re wondering.”

“Earth isn’t exactly an element. I’ll assign you silica, since that is abundant in sand, which is earth. Of course, you could also be nitrogen, because when that freezes—well, it’s icy and fun to play with.”

“I’m not an ice queen, I just play one at the annual winter festival. And if you’re not nice to me, I’ll turn around and you’ll never see summer.”

“Sorry. But I will reserve judgment on your summer-invoking abilities until I can feel the grass beneath my feet.”

“It will happen. Promise. Just ahead. So where are you staying?”

“I found a hotel next to an Applebee’s. Classy place, the hotel. They even offer all-you-can-eat pastries glopped with thick pink frosting in the mornings. I could not contain my enthusiasm when I learned that.”

“Really?” She flashed him a genuinely doubtful look.

“I’m kidding. I have a tendency to find sarcasm in all the wrong places. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re a breath of fresh air, Dane. I don’t run into men like you around town all that often.”

“So you’ve snatched me up and now you’re going to do what with me, exactly?”

She waggled her eyebrows and pulled the car into a garage set beside a Victorian-style house. “Just wait and find out. Come in, if you dare.” She turned off the car and opened the door.

And Dane followed with the eagerness of a scientist discovering a new element. This could be interesting. Or at the very least, a distraction from the local television reruns and stale sheets he had been headed for back at the hotel.

Inside the house, the lights were low and the kitchen vast, four times the size of a normal kitchen. Dane was drawn to the center, where a butcher-block table stretched ten feet and was paralleled by random unmatched bar stools in a range of heights. Above the table hung various dried herbs and flowers among copper pans and lightbulbs caged by chicken wire.

He drew in a breath, infusing his senses with lavender and rose, sage and thyme, and he detected cinnamon, as well. Summer, indeed. But it wasn’t grass, as she’d promised. Still. He took in the rest of the kitchen, the pale gray clapboard walls harmonized with the stainless steel appliances. Country chic with a dash of bohemian, from the bright red and violet dish towels to the deep garnet glass dishes stacked neatly in the doorless cupboards.

“This is like something from a movie set,” he said. “You live here alone?”

She nodded and then tugged off the tinsel wig to reveal a spill of chestnut hair that tumbled down her shoulders. Straight as a ruler and thick. She blew a few strands from her bright blue eyes. And how those lush lashes fluttered as she waited for him to speak. He could not ignore or dismiss what those enchanting eyes did to his heartbeats—thudding toward some cliff was how it felt.

“Dane?” She nudged forward, inspecting his gaze. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” Had his mouth been open in wonder over her simple yet utterly gorgeous appearance? He needed to check himself. This was a little unsettling, standing here with a woman he’d met an hour earlier. Sure, he’d romanced her a bit at the party. But then he’d been the prince swishing around the dance floor with a queen. Now he felt slightly unsure. Playing the science nerd was his game. And he hadn’t much of a game to claim in the first place.

“So where’s summer?” he asked.

“Let me pour you a lemonade first, and then we’ll head into summer. You like mint?”

“Yes, please.”

He sat on a stool and shrugged off his wool jacket. He’d need to buy something warmer if he intended to go out and about for a week in this frigid weather. And he could hardly imagine sitting in a hotel room that whole time. He had some weapons reports to work on for the Agency, but he always got antsy if he sat before the laptop too long. Best way to counterattack a work slump? Hit a few waves or punch the bag for a while. He wondered if there might be a gym in the hotel. He’d ask at reception when he returned later...but how would he get to the hotel? He had no vehicle.

Eryss pulled a glass pitcher from the fridge and then crushed a few fresh mint leaves she picked off a plant near a window over the sink.

“I want to change out of this silly dress,” she said as she handed him a glass of cloudy yellow brew sprinkled with emerald leaves. “I’m going to send you into summer on your own, and then take a few minutes to myself. Deal?”

He sipped the lemonade. Tart! And followed by a tendril of sweetness laced with a minty gush that tickled his nose.

“Oh yeah. That hit the spot. Uh, and yes, go do whatever you wish. I can sit here until you return.”

“No. You are in desperate need of a summer infusion. Follow me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Dane followed Eryss’s swaying blue skirt into the living room, which was as large as the kitchen and decorated with velvet and silk furniture coverings and plants. Bohemian yet fresh, he thought. A far cry from the white walls and steel and leather furniture that filled his small Santa Cruz apartment. Down a hallway they neared a glass-block wall, and then he saw the doors and realized a two-story conservatory was attached to the house.

Eryss opened the door and gestured for him to enter as one low inner light flickered on. He strolled inside and the humidity hit him softly. He swallowed the heavy air and smiled. The warmth was incredible and the green smell of plants transported him to...

“Summer,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Told you. Here.” She handed him a lighter, then turned and flicked a switch. A stirring of gears began to lower what he saw was a massive crystal chandelier in the center of the glass hothouse, and it stopped just beside a curvy emerald velvet sofa. “Light the candles and I’ll be back quick as I can.”

“Uh, sure,” he said, as he absently flicked the lighter on and off. He couldn’t get over the incredible place in which he stood.

Eryss disappeared out the door and into the house. And Dane stood there, a lemonade wafting mint in one hand and a lighter in the other as he noticed the emerald-crystal candelabra was fitted with real beeswax candles. And was that—did a dragonfly flit about the massive chandelier?

What kind of Wonderland had he stumbled into? And was Eryss more Alice than Snow Queen?

“Does it matter?” A grin teased at him and he relaxed into the intriguing madness of it all. “Here’s to Wonderland.”

* * *

Confident she’d left the man in a wondrous state, Eryss tugged off the satin gown and tossed it across the bed as she beelined into her closet. It was a walk-in, but was only half filled with clothes and shoes. The other half was stacked with boxes of crystals, herbs, tinctures and other magical accoutrements she didn’t have room for in her spell room—which was the conservatory.

Geneva, one of her brewery partners, had scoffed at this tiny closet. That woman owned an entire store of clothing, and a high-end one at that. She hadn’t been at the party tonight because she was still in Greece, ending a two-month-long affair with a millionaire. Or maybe he was a billionaire. Eryss couldn’t keep track of Geneva’s conquests.

Tugging on the long, gray, crushed-velvet sweater that was more a dress because it went to just above her knees, she decided against the wool leggings she usually wore with it. She wiggled her bare toes, which glinted with bright green toenail polish. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she turned before it as she buttoned up the sweater dress. When was the last time she had preened for a man?

“He’s so cute. And smart. And hot.”

Now the question was: to hook up or not? She had no moral qualms about taking to bed a man she had just met and felt confident wasn’t a serial killer or nose picker. Some magnetic vibes had formed between them while dancing.

Had her soul really recognized his soul? It was a feeling she’d never known before, and she wanted to place it as a result of the anacampserote spell. But she mustn’t rush into believing such things. Finding her soul mate was monumental. And she had known Dane all of an hour.

“Oh, Eryss, you have to chill and relax. He’s just a handsome man. End of story.”

Or, with hope, the beginning of a story.

But she could not deny something about him seemed familiar.

“Maybe we’ve dated in a previous life,” she said. That was always entirely possible because she had reincarnated many times. “Or were we married?”

Who knew? The possibilities were endless. What mattered was that she felt Dane had bumped into her tonight for a reason. And she never ignored intuition. So she’d follow his lead, and see where they both landed. She was willing to follow.

Browsing over her jewelry tray on the vanity, she selected the rose quartz pendant and pulled it on over her head. “For the heart.”

She skipped down the stairs and picked up her lemonade from the newel post at the base of the steps, and then sailed into the humid warmth of the conservatory, which she kept verdant and healthy with the help of earth elementals. Hopefully, they would remain out of sight tonight. They didn’t normally show themselves around anyone but her and her witch friends, but she would cross her fingers for an uneventful evening in the summery haven nonetheless.

Dane had settled onto the emerald sofa, head tilted back and eyes closed. He seemed to be taking it all in. With dark curls spilling over his forehead and his powerful hands clasped loosely across his lap, he looked like a dozing faun king amid the wilds. Powerful, virile and of the earth. Eryss felt compelled to lean over and kiss him. Taste the sweet lemonade on his lips and breathe in his solid, masculine presence.

But he hadn’t kissed her at the dance, so she didn’t want to leap too quickly. Not until he gave her some sign he was interested in more than chatting.

“So, is it summery enough for you?” she asked as she sat next to him. The lush grass floor was the product of a spell that she didn’t have to tell him about. She loved feeling it tickling her toes.

“It is. How do you do this? In the middle of winter? I get the thick glass and the heating system, though I couldn’t find a source for the heater. And some plants are very hardy in cooler climes, but the grass? Are there heat coils beneath the sod? It’s frozen out there. There must be some means to heat the ground. Otherwise, it’s not scientifically—”

“Science has nothing to do with it, Dane. It’s magic. And if I told you how it worked it wouldn’t be magic anymore. So don’t question it. Deal?”

“I don’t believe in magic.”

“I’m sorry for you. So much in life is a direct result of magic and unexplainable phenomena.”

“It’s my job to explain such phenomena. Everything has a reason and a source. Down to the very atom. I should probably tell you what I really do.”

“What? You’re not a scientist?”

“Oh, I’m a scientist. But for the past few years I’ve been, well, you might call me a debunker. I disprove paranormal phenomena and other items associated with myth and legend.”

“Seriously? Like a myth buster?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“How does a guy happen on to a job like that?” Now a little uncomfortable knowing she sat next to not only a scientist, but one who went out of his way to prove people of her sort a myth, she turned to face him, tucking up her legs and propping an elbow on the back of the sofa. “Was there an ad in the paper?”

He chuckled. Oh man, the guy’s laughter. It hit Eryss in all the feels.

“No,” he said. “I was recruited. It’s important that the public gets the right information about the things that tend to grow fantastical roots with remarkable speed via popular culture and social media. Human brains have a hive mentality, and if someone says a vampire exists it doesn’t take long for the rest to agree. Thus.” He splayed a hand before his chest. “The calm in the storm.”

“You?”

“Me. I’m doing what I love. Using science every day. And really, I can’t let the world sit back and actually believe in vampires, can I?”

“Fantasy is good for the soul,” she suggested.

Though she did agree with his purpose, if not his actual work. Vampires and witches? The fewer people who believed in them, the safer and easier it was for them to exist among the humans. “So you’ve debunked vampires?”

“On more than one occasion. I live in Santa Cruz, but my work frequently lures me to San Francisco. That city is oddly rife with murders staged to look as if a vampire did it. You would be surprised the lengths some go to get the teeth impressions just right. But they always drain too much blood from the body. If a vampire did exist, he could not exsanguinate an entire body in such a short time. I’m sorry. This is a morbid subject.”

“No, I’m interested in what you do. Does your being here in Minnesota have to do with your job? Should I be keeping one eye over my shoulder in fear of vampires?”

“You should not. And I’m here on a personal project, actually. Although it is also related to my work. I work in the Weapons division and am charged with debunking weapons of historical interest that have a legend of magic attached to them.”

“So, like Excalibur?”

“Yes, but I believe that legendary weapon was last seen tossed in a lake.”

“Not so. I’m pretty sure the lady living in the lake handed it to King Arthur.”

“Right. Because it’s entirely possible for a woman to exist in a lake. Mermaids are theoretically implausible. She may have been called the Lady of the Lake, but not because she actually lived in one. Of course, it doesn’t matter. The Arthurian Chronicles are fiction.”

“Wow. You haven’t a fantastical bone in your body. Did your mother never read you faery tales when you were little?”

“No, she read me the table of elements and notes from her psychology papers.”

Eryss gaped at Dane. He didn’t catch her shock as he sipped the lemonade. Poor guy. But she didn’t want to get into a deep conversation about childhood traumas and lack of fantasy play. The night outside the windows was gray, illuminated by the snowy ground and nearby forest. The air inside was fresh as summer, and all she wanted to do was touch his hair and...kiss him.

“It’s a good thing our pasts do not define us,” she said, even as she inwardly kicked herself for saying it. She, the woman who was obsessed with finding the lost lover from her previous lives.

“Indeed. But my past is what brings me to Minnesota. I’m after a weapon once owned by my father. It’s got some paranormal legend attached to it, which could make it an item of interest to the company I work for, but that’s not the important thing.”

“It was your father’s,” she stated.

“Indeed. He died when I was three.” Dane shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. And Eryss sighed inwardly as the glossy black strands swept over his ear. “Enough talk about what I do and why I’m here. I want to enjoy summer!”

Now he turned an absolutely delicious smile on her. He set the glass down in the grass and turned his body toward her. He set his shoulders back and spread his arms across the sofa back and arm. He was open to her, beckoning without words.

And if that wasn’t an invitation, Eryss was losing her wiles. She moved in for a kiss. His stubble brushed her cheek and the heat of him surrounded her, sending a shiver of delight across her skin. The tang of lemons sweetened her lips, and she inhaled mint as if it were his pheromones.

He’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and she glided her fingers up his arm, rough with dark hair and the map lines of thick veins. So masculine. She turned into him and he paused the kiss. His eyes held her, bewitched. “Is this all right?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’m feeling a little out of my element. As if I’m stumbling here.”

“Really?” And here she’d thought the invitation overwhelming. “You’re doing fine.”

“Not with the kiss. I mean, this feels too good to be true, Eryss. We just met an hour ago and now here I am, kissing you beneath real candlelight on a sofa set amid an enchanted garden. It’s sort of blowing my mind.”

“I bet it takes a lot to blow your mind.”

“It does, actually. Your success is duly noted.”

“You like to think a lot.”

“I do.”

“Then that will be your challenge.” She swished away a curl from his brow. Yes, so soft. “You can’t think around me, you just have to be in the moment.”

“This is a good moment.”

“I agree. Now, stop thinking and kiss me.”

Her smile lured him to her like a night flower draws one to inhale its perfume. Dane kissed her and pushed his fingers up through her hair. His mouth fit hers in a way that was confident and yet so sweet. She knew him, and perhaps he knew her but didn’t realize it. It was a fantastical way of thinking, but there you go. She was a witch. It helped to have an active imagination.

“Come here,” he muttered, and pulled her onto his lap as he leaned back on the couch and looked up into her eyes. “Candlelight becomes you. It dances in your hair.” He stroked her hair and pulled it to his nose. “You smell like ice and sage.”

“I must still be working some of my ice queen mojo. You taste like mint and lemons.” She straddled his legs with hers and leaned in to kiss his jaw, licking the short stubble. A fern tendril had crept over the back of the couch and tickled her forehead. She giggled against his mouth. “The plants approve of this moment, as well.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were sentient beings intent on seducing the two of us together.”

“Plants are sentient. And we are together. Haven’t you ever been seduced, Dane?”

“I, uh, well, sure. Not in such a manner, though. It’s so...”

“Interesting?”

His eyes dropped to the rose quartz crystal dangling above her breasts. “Quick.”

He was having trouble with their sudden embrace? Yes, well, she had not followed his lead, as she’d told herself to do. Bad witch. Eryss sat back on Dane’s thighs and smoothed her palms over his tweed vest buttoned neatly over a crisp white shirt. “Do I intimidate you?”

“Honestly? A little.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I can’t believe I confessed that. Normally I’m the one questioning if I’m the intimidating one. You’re a fascinating woman, Eryss, and I think it’s either that I can’t believe my luck or that maybe you really are some kind of snow queen and you’ve bespelled me.”

If he only knew.

“I think I should step back and slow down,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

She started to rise, but Dane took her hand and pulled her back to sit on his legs. “No, I’m sorry. This is what I want. You. Kissing me. Hugging me with those long legs and making my heart beat faster than a neutrino spray.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I can work with it.”

This time he kissed her deeply. And while Eryss was still wondering if she had done the right thing with the anacampserote, she had to remain true to her intuition. And her soul felt she was in the right place with the right person at this moment in her life. That’s all that mattered.

Dane’s hand glided up her hip and along the gray sweater. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, to learn her. To know her.

When his hand stopped just beside her breast, but not quite touching it, he broke their kiss. “I should leave before I don’t want to leave.”

He certainly did vacillate from one extreme to the other. “And you do want to leave?”

“I do. I don’t. Eryss.”

“I know.” She did know. They were moving quickly. Racing, even. Not that she minded, but she wanted the guy to be all in, too. No sense in forcing a man to be something he wasn’t ready to accept. How could he? He surely had no clue she suspected they were soul mates. “You can take my car back to your hotel.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “If you can be back here tomorrow around eleven to pick me up, I’ll show you around the brewery. Then I have some work to do for the afternoon.”

“I can do that. I have some reports to fill out that will keep me busy.”

“You really debunk vampires?” she asked, as he stood and stretched. “What about witches?”

Dane came out of the stretch with a chuckle. “Bunch of silly women who play with crystals and herbs and think their cats can talk to them.”

“Ah. Wow.”

The man had no idea how many points she would take off for that comment. On the other hand, the less he knew, the better. He’d be shocked to meet a cat-shifting familiar that could talk to humans. She bet he’d never debunked a creature like that before.

“You’re sure?” he asked. “About me taking your car? Do you trust me driving on these roads?”

“They’re clear of ice and snow. Mostly. I trust you.”

She kissed him again. All of him smelled so good, like a place she could cuddle up in to get away from the rain. Or like a long-lost sanctuary that she’d found again.

She patted his chest. “I know your soul.” He gave her a wonky look of disbelief, so she flounced toward the doors. “I’ll get the key!”

Telling him she knew his soul had probably been rushing things more than if they’d almost had sex. And she wasn’t positive she recognized his soul. The whole night had been a heated surrender to passion and lust. It was time to start thinking rationally.

“Like a scientist,” she murmured, as she picked up the car keys from a copper bowl on the kitchen counter.

A scientist who debunked paranormal beings and who thought witches were silly? If they were going to get to know one another any better, Eryss sensed Dane’s every belief would be duly challenged.

Challenge was necessary to a great life. So she’d bring it on, ready or not. The man had just stoked a silly witch’s passions.

Chapter 4

Eryss strolled into the brewery, leaving Dane outside on the sidewalk. With a shovel. The heavens had dropped a light dusting of snow overnight, which left the sidewalk coated, and Dane had commented that it could be dangerous. So she’d gotten out a shovel from the basement storage and handed it to him. He’d grinned at her and accepted the challenge.

Hey, if the guy wanted to comment on their upkeep, then he needed to put up or shut up. Trial by fire, baby. Or rather, by snow.

After shedding her coat and mittens at the end of the bar, she shook out her hair and glanced over the hardwood floor. It was in need of a mopping, which she’d get to soon enough. A clinking sound came from the dishwasher, which was being fed pint glasses by Mireio. Mireio was an early riser and was always first into the brewery. But then, she rarely closed. Such a schedule worked well for all of them and their half-dozen other employees (none of them witches, and none of them aware of their employers’ otherworldly abilities).

“So?”

Eryss met Mireio’s hopeful gaze and knew exactly what she was thinking. And she wasn’t even psychic. Eryss aligned a few pint glasses on the stainless steel counter and then tossed a dishcloth in the sink. “So what?”

“That looks like a fine specimen of man shoveling our sidewalk. Where did you find him? Dial-A-Manhunk?”

“At the party last night.”

Mireio’s eyes widened and she clutched her hands together hopefully before her chest. “And he’s still with you this morning! Ooh! Did you have sex last night?”

“Really? Of all the things you want to know about that amazing hunk of man with the biceps of steel and hair that glistens like black gold, all you can think to ask is did we have sex?”

Mireio nodded eagerly. “What else is there to know? You must have taken him home with you, since you two are together today.”

“I did take him home with me. We made out. But sex would have been pushing it a bit quickly.”

“Good call.” Mireio’s gaze was pinned to Dane. “Maybe? Oh, how could you have not? Look at him!”

Eryss had. And knew exactly what wild and delicious scenarios involving naked flesh and moans and sighs were running through her friend’s imagination. “He’s a scientist.”

“Ooh. A nerd. I love a sexy nerd.” Mireio toyed with her springy red curls. “Don’t find them wandering around Anoka very often. So when will you have sex? Because if you let that one slip out of your hands without tapping—”

“I’ll give it my best shot. The man’s kisses do not lend themselves to patience.”

“Did you tell him you’re a witch?”

“Mireio, he’s a scientist.”

“I got that. Oh, you don’t think he’d believe you?”

“It’s not that I need him to believe anything about me. Since when do we just toss it out there that we’re witches?”

“True. But can you imagine the conversations you’d have trying to convince him you can control the earth and its elements with nothing more than your little finger?”

“I blew his mind with the conservatory. I liked seeing his surprise. But here’s the kicker—he’s a scientist who debunks paranormal phenomena.”

Sudden worry fluttered Mireio’s lashes. “What do you mean?”

“Like he proves vampires don’t exist and thinks witches are crazy old ladies.”

“Oh.” Mireio shuddered. “Not cool. But he saw your conservatory. Who could actually believe something like that can exist without magic?”

“He’s convinced I have heat coils running under the soil.”

Mireio accepted that with a nod and a shrug. “Could happen.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to get into it with him until I’m sure.”

“Sure you want to have sex with him?” she asked eagerly.

“That. But also, sure that he’s...the one.”

“The one?”

“The one my soul pines for. I had a weird moment of recognition last night with him, Mireio. What if the anacampserote called him here? What if he is the man I fall in love with every time I’m reincarnated?”

“But he doesn’t even believe in witches. I don’t see that working too swell in the romance department.”

“Right. But this man from my former lives might not have always been in my life for very long. He could have been a one-night stand or brief affair on many occasions. How often do we really reveal ourselves to our lovers?”

“If they are quickies, never. Too risky for witches. But if you think he’s your soul mate, don’t you think you’ll have to tell him sooner or later?”

“I would love to have him know me as I know him. But that’s the kicker. I don’t know him. It was just a moment of knowing last night. So I could be wrong.”

“But you want to be right.”

“Goddess, yes. He’s so sexy.” They both turned to watch Dane push snow off the sidewalk outside.

Had she made a mistake by not encouraging him to have his way with her last night? “What am I going to do? He’s only in town for a week.”

“You can make him love you, then spill the beans about being a witch. Or you can tell him now and challenge his beliefs.”

“Sounds like a game. I don’t play games.”

“Oh yeah? What about the one where you think he’s your lost love and you want to keep him close to you without saying anything?”

“That’s not fair.”

“All is fair in love. War just sucks.”

They both laughed, and Eryss couldn’t find an argument against Mireio’s suggestion to challenge his beliefs. She’d invite Dane to dinner. Tonight she’d prepare a feast to seduce. And she would pay attention to every sign she saw or felt toward him. If her soul really did recognize him, she wanted to be sure. And do what she could to help him recognize hers.

* * *

She had prepared a meal to seduce, Dane thought as he rolled the rhubarb wine across his tongue and inhaled the savory scent of tomatoes, garlic and pine nuts from the plate before him. But he didn’t need to be seduced by food. The dress Eryss wore was more than amply urging his desires to the surface. She had on a soft, pink velvet dress that stopped at her thighs and was fringed with delicate lace about her décolletage, which kept drawing his eyes right there. And when she laughed her breasts jiggled, and then he couldn’t remember what he was doing.

Oh, right, eating. With a fork. That he’d almost dropped onto the plate.

Making the save, Dane cleared his throat and offered, “I liked shoveling this morning.”

“I noticed. You shoveled the whole block. The pet store next door appreciated that.”

He shrugged. “I think I could handle Minnesota once in a while.”

Eryss lifted a questioning brow.

“Mostly. Probably. In the summer, for sure.”

“Does surfer guy miss the waves? Do you surf this time of year?”

“Oh, yeah. Some of the best swells roll in during January. Put me in a heavy wet suit and I’m good to go.”

“But even with a wet suit, the water must be cold.”

“In the fifties. So you see?” He pounded his chest with a fist. “I’m hardy.”

“Then I challenge you to do the polar plunge. I think that’s happening sometime next week over in Saint Paul.”

“Is that what it sounds like?”

She nodded. “Jumping into the lake through a hole cut in the ice. But don’t worry, there are towels and hot beverages waiting to warm you up after.”

“I think I’ll stick with fifty degrees and epic surf.”

Eryss’s giggle lifted her breasts in a jiggly don’t-look-away come-on. The water glass Dane held tilted, and cool liquid splashed his wrist.

“Whoa!” She grabbed the glass and pressed a towel to the spill on the table. “Got it.”

“Sorry.” He reclaimed the glass and set it carefully before his plate. Even a child could manage such a skill as lifting a glass to drink. Of course, children’s distractions were far different from a grown man’s. He smirked at Eryss’s darting look. So he confessed. “You distract me. Your cooking distracts me. The warmth from the hearth fire is distracting in a good way. And everything about you and this house is distracting. I’m normally much more pulled together.”

She stroked a finger along his wrist. “And here I thought I was the only one having a hard time concentrating on the pasta. You know you have a few silver hairs in your beard stubble and above your ears that are devastating to a woman’s better judgment.”

Dane rubbed his stubble, which was trying to become a beard. He wasn’t that old, but indeed, he did have a few silver strands. Had he inherited them from a father he’d never known? The only photo his mother had ever saved of Edison had been taken from the side, and was blurry. He had dark hair in it, but it was hard to tell if gray had yet invaded. “They say a few gray hairs give a man a distinguished air.”

“I’d call it downright sexy. But I assumed you were about my age.”

“Which is?” He managed to fork in a bite of pesto without spilling. Points for the distracted scientist.

“I celebrate my thirtieth in a week. What about you?”

“I’m a January baby, as well. My day is the twenty-eighth. We’re both looking at thirty.”

“That’s interesting! I’d love to read your cards.”

“My cards? You mean like tarot? Wait. Don’t tell me.” He cast his gaze about the kitchen, seeing what he’d seen once before, but this time really taking it in. “You’ve got all the plants, the minerals and crystals sitting everywhere, and you told me you believe in magic. Of course you do tarot.”

“Tarot is not done. It’s read. And yeah, I’ve got skills.” She licked her fork clean, and the sight of her tongue dragging along the silver tines disturbed Dane’s sense of propriety. “I just find it interesting that two people born one day apart have found one another. Our souls are clinging to each other.”

“Souls, eh? Tell me you don’t believe in the afterlife and reincarnation and all that blather.” A necessary rebuttal. He had made the comment to her yesterday about witches being silly. It was a standard reply in his line of work. Couldn’t let anyone actually know he believed in real witches.

“I innately know that I have lived many lives. And your lack of belief in an afterlife, or that souls exist in many forms for many lifetimes, doesn’t bother me. You are a scientist, after all. You’re designed not to see the greater picture.”

“Is that so?” Dane pushed his plate forward to lean an elbow on the table. “All scientists do is seek the greater picture.”

“Unless you’re a microbiologist.”

She had him there. They tended to study the small stuff. But still, there was a vast and greater world within their study.

And Dane’s sudden rising indignation settled. He didn’t want to start a fight debating science and fantasy with this beautiful woman who had successfully plied her seduction skills on him. Not when his eyes again strayed to her cleavage and he suddenly wondered what dessert she would offer.

“You mentioned you’re also a geologist,” she stated. “Besides the debunking stuff, you study rocks, right?”

“That’s a vague and expansive way to summarize what I do. But sure, I study rocks.”

“So if I tell you I use crystals to gain insight and heal myself, then where do you stand on that?”

He chuckled, then saw her nodding as if she’d expected him to react that way. “Well, seriously. Rocks don’t heal.” And that wasn’t a line; he simply knew it to be fact. “And people who claim to read stones or get some kind of voodoo vibrations out of them are...”

“Are?”

He was not going to answer that one, even if she threatened to have him stomped on by a thousand elephants. He might stand on the side of logic, but when a man was trying to impress a woman it was far better to plead the fifth at times.

“Everything is energy, right?” Eryss said.

“Of course. We are all atoms bouncing up against one another.”

“Including this table, the chairs we are sitting on, the rocks on my kitchen windowsill, the ones in the copper bowl down the table there, and those outside hidden under the snow. Yes?”

Whatever point she was trying to make, he sensed he would not agree. But again... “Yes.”

“Energy vibrates those atoms and makes all things living entities. Why is it so hard to believe that two energies can combine to work with each other? The rock and the healer?”

Dane blew out through his nose. She had an infinitesimal point there. But if given time, he’d refute it with ease. More often than not his job did not result in protecting the masses, but rather a mentally unbalanced individual. Eryss was not one of those.

He hoped.

“Will you let me show you something?” She leaned forward, an eager look sparkling in her eyes.

“Always and ever,” he replied without thinking.

She stretched to the side to grab a stone from the copper bowl she had just mentioned. It was an egg-sized piece of rose quartz, roughly cut and unpolished, yet it gleamed in shades of pink and white under the subtle candlelight.

She held it between them. “This crystal is one of my favorites. I use it often on my heart chakra. The energy it puts out is tangible.”

Uh. Huh. Okay, so perhaps she was a kitchen witch of sorts? That was the only explanation Dane had for those women who were involved in such things as chakras and souls and crystals with energies. A ridiculous enterprise. But a harmless hobby, all the same.

Still, it annoyed him.

“Take it.” She held out the crystal.

He decided to amuse her and took the rock. It had a good weight and he couldn’t deny it was a lovely specimen. But it was simply a rock mined from the earth. His studies tended to ignore the beauty and instead read the history within the striations and deposits that the millennia had formed.

“Now.” She straightened and dipped a finger to her décolletage, pulling down the dress a bit to reveal the inner swells of her breasts. “Place it here, on my heart chakra.”

“You want me to...” Dane held the stone before her. His eyes danced over her breasts. He hadn’t touched them last night. Had he been out of his mind? They were firm and full, and perfectly sized, and... “You’re not wearing a bra.”

He caught her lift of brow, and chuckled. “Right. I just sounded like a fourteen-year-old boy, didn’t I? I’d apologize, but it’s inevitable a man’s mind goes certain places when a woman slips down her dress like you just did.”

“No need to apologize. I’m not completely without my wiles.” She fluttered her lashes. “But let’s do the energy experiment first. Place the quartz here.” She tapped her chest between her breasts.

So, with as much fortitude as he could muster—but really, it didn’t require anything more than that lash-fluttering invite—Dane pressed the stone against Eryss’s chest. His fingers brushed her warm, supple breast, and he sucked in a breath to imagine stroking his tongue along the skin. Tasting her. He met her gaze and, while she wasn’t smiling, he felt the acceptance and smile in her eyes. He relaxed—and the sudden shock of an electrical charge forced his fingers from the stone.

Eryss caught the rose quartz in a palm.

“What the—” Dane touched his fingertips together. Grabbing the stone from Eryss, he turned it over, checking for compromise. “Felt like I’d touched an electric fence. A weak one, but...”

“That was the energy of the crystal aligning with my chakra. It felt great, you holding it against my skin.” She took the stone from him and replaced it in the copper bowl. “But I suspect, given the proper amount of time, you’ll find a way to refute what you’ve just experienced.”

He wouldn’t refute the experience. Because he had felt the energy. But...how? Okay, sure, if he went deep he knew there were scientific claims that stones and trees and even flowers carried measurable energy. A particle detector could pick up radiation from stone. He’d verified as such many times in the lab. But never by merely placing a rock to a woman’s chest.

“Dane?”

“Good trick. We should change the subject,” he suggested. Because while he welcomed a good debate, he wasn’t stupid. Arguing semantics about make-believe magical stuff would never get him the girl.

“Yes, we should,” she agreed. “A new topic. How about we discuss your distraction.”

“My distraction?”

“You and that fourteen-year-old boy haven’t stopped staring at my boobs since you sat down to eat.”

“Ahem.” He rubbed his jaw. “I confess, the view is distracting. Man, do I sound like a creep.”

“I don’t mind your distraction.” She tickled the lace framing her décolletage. “I did put on a low-cut dress for a reason.”

“It’s working. From the pine nuts in the pesto to the soft music and candles, I am feeling the seduction.”

“Excellent. I have more candles lit in the conservatory. Let’s move out to summer, shall we?”

“What about the dishes?” Dane gathered up the plates and silverware. “I’ll rinse them quickly for you, and I see you have a dishwasher.”

“A man who insists on doing dishes? Now you’re seducing me. I’ll meet you out among the wild!” she called, and her pink skirt swept the air with her exit.

Dane made quick work of the dishes, a skill his mother had taught him. He could never leave a table now without cleaning up. He wiped off the butcher-block table, grabbed his glass of water, considered it, then checked the fridge. There was a bottle of corked wine, three quarters full. He pulled it out, selected two goblets sitting next to a blue calcite crystal from a shelf, and...he walked over to the table and picked up the rose quartz from the bowl.

Turning it over and inspecting it carefully revealed the many beautiful striations and cracks. It was cold to the touch but warmed in his palm. He knew nothing about chakras, but was aware the woo-woo folks had assigned seven chakra points to the body and each were color-coded and meant various things regarding health and welfare. A bunch of hoodoo nonsense.

And yet, he had been physically repulsed from holding the quartz.

“Interesting,” he muttered, and set the rock down on the table.

* * *

While Dane was putting away the dishes, Eryss lit the emerald candelabra and turned off the main light. The conservatory glowed softly and smelled like the newly bloomed freesia, her favorite flower when it came to fragrance. It flooded the room with a heady perfume.

When he wandered in, barefoot, she smiled. She’d like to see him in a wet suit peeled down to his hips, revealing abs and, she suspected, a hairy chest, for tufts of dark hair peeked out the top of his white shirt.

He poured two goblets of wine—good man for taking the initiative of bringing in the wine—and handed her one. He sat on the couch and stretched his feet over the grass.

“You know, I’m a bit of a scientist myself,” Eryss confessed. She sat beside him and sipped the wine. “Formulating the beer recipes takes math skills, knowledge of yeasts and bacteria, and boiling points and the gravity of sugar. One miscalculation of time and temperature during the boil and I’ve got something so bitter even the triple IPA aficionados will spit it out.”

“Sounds complicated. I’ll stick with drinking the finished product.”

“And you,” she said. “You are more connected to nature than you want to believe.”

“Oh, I do believe in that connection. Electric rocks aside. Surfing is more about knowing the water and myself than any logical reasoning. Though math is involved when calculating a point break or peak. Okay, we connect in the middle ground. And I’ll give you the rose quartz adventure. I do know some scientific research has been done on crystals and their energy. But I’m still going to pass on the tarot reading.”

“Fair enough.”

“I think we should focus on the intentions we both presumably have for this night.”

“Intentions?”

Dane took her glass and set it in the grass and then leaned in to kiss her. He tasted like wine and pesto. He slipped his fingers through her hair, then kissed her cheek and down to the base of her earlobe, where she could feel his pulse against hers.

“Life. Energy. Atoms,” he whispered.

“Don’t think like a scientist, Dane. Respond with your body, not your brain.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

He slipped the sleeve from her shoulder and kissed her there with a soft moan that mined a deep and animal part of her. Eryss tilted back her head and wrapped her legs about his hips, pulling him down onto her. His hot mouth landed on the upper curve of her breast, and his fingers carefully pulled back the velvet to expose more and more of her breast without quite going to the nipple. He lingered on her skin, tracing it with his tongue as if designing runes. She felt it all the way to her toes and back up to her pussy, which was already warm and wet for him.

After unbuttoning his tweed vest, she slid her hands up under the crisp white shirt beneath, her fingers gliding through the dark hairs and around his rib cage, which was strapped with tight muscle.

“For a science nerd,” she said against his mouth, “you’re ripped.”

“It’s the surfing. I can’t spend all my time formulating and postulating, can I?”

“You most certainly cannot.”

He nudged down her dress strap, which exposed her breast. The first lash of his tongue to her nipple teased a moan from her. She squirmed beneath him, pulling him closer.

“It’s very warm in here,” he said.

“It is. We won’t feel the winter chill if we shed our clothes.”

“Your postulation is correct.” He gave her breast a quick kiss, then glanced back up to her eyes. “There’s something about you, Eryss. It makes me want to dive in. Like I’m so comfortable with you that I forget this is only our first official date.”

She tilted her head against his shoulder. “Curse you, rational thinking.”

His laughter echoed in the room and the leaves shuddered, reacting to his energy. And Eryss couldn’t prevent herself from reacting, too. She straddled him and pulled down her dress straps further. “This is my body telling me to take what I want. I am a goddess of earth and winter, and I desire that you worship me. Kiss me right here, Dane. On my heart chakra.” She tapped between her breasts. “And don’t stop until you know I’m satisfied.”

His smile was so infectious, she felt joy in her core. He leaned in to kiss her and the sweet, firm touch branded her softly. Stubble brushed her breasts with a tease. And he dashed his tongue over her curves, avoiding her nipple, which frustrated her in a good way. When he explored the underside of her breast, he paused and traced her skin with a fingertip.

“This dark mark here. It’s not a scar?”

“No, a birthmark.” It was about an inch long. A dark line right under her breast and between two ribs. She’d studied it often, wondering over it. “They say birthmarks are scars from a previous lifetime.”

“I assume those who say that believe in reincarnation?”

Oops. She wasn’t about to let him start thinking now.

Diving in, Eryss kissed him hard and deeply, rubbing her breasts against his shirt and vest. His fingers found her nipples and he pinched them gently, then not so gently. She moaned deep in her throat and rocked her hips upon his lap.

Moving too fast? Could one ever move fast enough toward destiny?

“Dane, let’s do this. Share energies.”

He kissed her jaw and nuzzled his nose against her cheek as he whispered, “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly Eryss was airborne, and she landed on her back on the couch. Dane crawled over her, unbuttoning his shirt as he did, and she helped him pull the clothes down his arms and fling them to the floor. She pressed both palms to his chest, reveling in the solid muscle and warm, tickly hairs.

“You’re beautiful,” she said. “Surfer guy.”

He laughed that wondrous and soul-touching laugh, and she laughed because it was infectious and she wanted to take on the energy he put out.

“You are the beautiful one,” he said as he bowed to kiss her between the breasts. “You and your energetic heart chakra.”

He slid his tongue along the curve of her breast and glided up to suckle at her nipple. Raking her fingers through his hair, Eryss held him there, gasping as his expert touch moved the energy from her breast out through her body and to all parts that now tingled and curled. Her toes dug into the velvet couch.

She reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and he chuckled from his throat as he moved to her other breast. A confirmation that she was on the right path. Shoving down his pants to his hips, she then danced her fingers around to land on the head of his penis, which had escaped his boxers. Hot and hard, it filled her palm. He gasped when she clasped her fingers over the top of his erection, and his movement pulled him down through her grasp. She quickly caught him again and this time controlled the pistoning action herself.

“Your energy is definitely very focused,” he said as he glanced up at her and winked. He closed his eyes, and she controlled his silence with a firm grip of his cock. He was able only to moan then, and that pleased her immensely.

“You don’t want to go up to the bed, do you?”

“No, I like it here in the jungle.” He shook back a loose strand of his hair from his eye. “Uh, do you have birth control? I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m good. Birth control,” she replied. It was her standard way to explain that she conjured a birth control spell once a quarter under the harvest moon. But the guy never needed to know the method, or anything beyond that she was safe.

She wiggled her hips as he slid her dress down to her thighs and then her knees, until she eventually kicked it aside. And all without letting go of his cock. So talented.

“You’ve got the hold of someone who must prefer driving,” he commented as he looked down at her firm clasp.

“It’s just so fun to hold. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. As long as you don’t mind me kissing you here.” He slid up alongside her so she didn’t have to let go of him, but also bowed forward to place a kiss at the apex of her thighs. And he didn’t stop there. His tongue dashed out to explore and taste and devour. “You smell like coconut here.”

“I always use coconut oil in my body lotions.”

“I like it. I think that stuff comes in handy as a lube, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Oh, lover, we are not going to need it,” she cooed, and met Dane’s winking smile.

Had she seen that smile so many times in her various reincarnations? Possibly.

“Come inside me, Dane,” she whispered.

He moved up to kiss her mouth, and his fingers stroked her folds still, tendering her most sensitive spots with ease and devotion. When she guided his erection between her legs, he propped up on an elbow and met her gaze. In the soft candlelight his eyes twinkled, and as he entered her, the intensity in his irises held her mesmerized. He owned her with his eyes, with the smile that grew as his rhythm began and the thickness of him filled her.

Eryss clutched at his hip, beckoning him faster, and never losing eye contact. The expressions on his face moved from a tense, lip-biting agony to a cool, smirking confidence. And then his eyes closed and his body trembled. His thrusts grew deeper, harder. She dug her fingernails in at his hip, begging, pleading for the mastery.

And the tug and tease of his erection at her clitoris summoned an orgasm that shook her very bones at the same time that he gasped and clutched the couch near her head. They came together.

As they had through the centuries.

* * *

Dane was startled awake by Eryss’s cry. They lay entwined on the emerald sofa amid a wild and weird winter jungle. Still in the clinging throes of sleep, he watched as she sat up and touched her ribs just beneath her breast. Right where that weird birthmark darkened her skin.

“You okay?” he muttered, fighting the urge to come fully awake.

She nodded sleepily. She was fighting wakefulness as well. It was still dark outside. “Just a weird dream.”

She settled beside him and he pulled her close. As her skin melded against his, his erection took note and he smiled against her shoulder.

“Really?” she murmured.

“It’ll settle,” he said. “Unless...?”

“Come inside me, Dane,” she said in a beautiful sleepy tone.

And so he did, slipping into her hot wetness and not even feeling the need to thrust. It just felt great being inside her. And together they drifted to sleep again.

Chapter 5

Dane strode out of the bathroom and down into the kitchen, veering toward the fridge only because it was a natural inclination to seek snacks after sex. But instead he grabbed a glass from the shelf and poured some tap water. He retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket and propped a hip against the butcher-block table.

Scratching his bare abs, he checked his emails. None. Not that he’d expected any. He was on an unofficial vacation. But he always strived to stay in touch with the Agency. There was a possibility someone might want to get ahold of him. He’d emailed Tor that the dagger pickup would be delayed, but it wasn’t a problem. The Agency was pretty sure the dagger was neither cursed nor contained active magic.

Because sometimes weird stuff did happen around the weapons he debunked. It all had to do with the energies. Blades and weapons made from metal could pick up magnetic properties, and if you stood in the right place at the wrong time, the thing could be propelled toward you due to paramagnetism.

He loved stuff like that. Made the job more interesting than it already was.

“Energies,” he whispered now, and his thoughts returned to last evening when Eryss had asked him to place the rose quartz over her heart chakra. “Who’da thought?”

So he’d give the idea of stones possessing energy credence. Because he had witnessed it, and was pretty sure she hadn’t tricked him with a low-voltage device such as the type magicians palmed for unsuspecting suckers. That didn’t make her a real witch, just a woman connected to nature.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

He almost tucked the phone back in a coat pocket when cool morning light glinted over the window above the sink—and he noticed a symbol that frost crystals had formed on the glass.

He padded over and studied the window. Sunlight fractured through the ice crystals in blue, red and violet. It was almost a mandala, though not symmetrical. A fractal of sorts, but again, more homemade than precise. Impossible to have been formed by frost. The only way was if someone had traced a finger on the window first, which was likely the case.

He raised the phone and snapped a picture of the symbol. He always recorded stuff that fascinated him. And his job made him extra perceptive for out-of-the-ordinary happenings. Eryss’s house was full of fascinations. She thought stones could heal? And now this symbol. And the full garden out in the conservatory. And reincarnation and souls. Talk about open-minded.

Perhaps a bit too open, he thought with a grimace.

Could she really believe she was a natural-born witch? No, she hadn’t said as much. She was simply someone who was fascinated by crystals and plants, which might naturally lend to the more woo-woo sorts of artwork like the one on the window.

She seemed too smart for that, a woman who would never blindly accept the unknown without the facts. Yet if she were a real witch...that was another scenario entirely. But he had no reason to consider it.

Setting his phone on the table, he glanced to his coat, which hung by the door. He didn’t wish to spend the next few days sitting alone in a hotel room. He could, but that wouldn’t be fun. So a fling with a sexy woman who could seduce him with her cooking and a conservatory overflowing with summer?

“Bring on the magic.”

* * *

Eryss woke on the couch alone. Had her lover left in the early morning hours? But had he walked back to town? No, Dane must have gone looking for the bathroom or—what was that incredible smell?

She shot upright and the chenille blanket fell away from her bare breasts. She wrapped the blanket about her shoulders and waist, forming a snuggie sort of cape, and then padded into the house, following the scent of cinnamon and...

“Bananas?” she said as she wandered into the kitchen.

Dane stood before the stove, spatula in hand. He wore nothing but the black pants he’d worn last night, no shoes or socks. The back view of him gave no clues that he was a nerdy scientist. Those delts and lats. Mercy, she was glad she knew her anatomy. On the other hand, who cared what those hard stretches of muscle were called? Oh, but what was that?

She touched his hip, above the three red scratches.

“Wild woman,” he said over a shoulder.

“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“A deliciously painful reminder of a night well spent.” He turned and kissed her forehead. “I’m a bit of an early riser. And since I have no way of getting back to town without absconding with your car once again, I am at your mercy. So I thought I’d butter you up with banana pancakes. Gluten free, thanks to your almond flour in the pantry. And a nice lemon and blueberry syrup.”

“Wow. If this is the bonus round, I’m in.”

“The bonus round?”

She hugged him from behind. “Last night was incredible. Now you’re upping the stakes by making me breakfast. It’s not very often a girl brings home a man and scores so highly.”

“You don’t know me well yet. I have a terrible habit of leaving my beard clippings in the sink, and you don’t even want to ask about how often I do laundry.”

“Then I won’t. Can I help?”

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