Chapter Two

Having honor was all well and good.

But it still took a quick talking to and a virtual kick in the butt to motivate Rose to open the door of the café.

As soon as she did, she felt the contrast of the dragging ugliness Millicent always inspired and the vast array of exciting possibilities shimmering in the air. Maybe it was the promise of frosting, but Rose was suddenly ready to embrace those possibilities.

She stepped into the restaurant and looked around. As nervous as the idea of karma made her, she had to smile at the lovely charm of the cafe. The hardwood floor was dotted with tables and curvy chairs, the walls accented with framed paintings and clever subway art. Beneath the image of a host of winged sprites dancing under the full moon was a sign warning all, Don’t Piss Off the Fairies.

But as interesting as the décor was, the food appeared even more intriguing. She approached the counter with its glass case filled with temptation and breathed long and deep. Who knew that chocolate came in so many delicious scents.

Milk chocolate cupcakes frosted with swirls of caramel frosting and sugared pecans. A three layer cake of dark chocolate with rich mouse filling. Cookies with chunks of chocolate, white and light, dark and moist. Éclairs and cream puffs, tarts and pies.

Her mouth watered and her stomach yearned. She’d already allocated the bulk off her willpower toward resisting her need for 3Sam Phillips. Why crave someone so far out of her league they belonged on different worlds? But hopefully, she had enough willpower left to keep from eating two—or four—of everything.

“What can I entice you to taste, my dear?” A lovely woman with an exotic air of elegance came around the glass display case to give Rose a warm smile. “A bit of chocolate, perhaps? I promise you, it’s much too good to resist.”

It was like she’d read her mind, Rose thought, not sure if she was impressed or uneasy. Years of listening to her mother disparage anything that hinted at the extraordinary tipped the scales toward the uneasy side.

“It all looks delicious,” she said, her smile just a little nervous. “And I’d love to try one of everything later. But right now, I’m supposed to meet Sam Phillips. Do you know him?”

“Samson, is it?” The woman’s smile took on an assessing edge as she looked Rose up and down. “I’m Natalia. Natalia Karmanski, and it’s lovely to meet you.”

“I’m Rose. Rose MacBriar.”

She reached for the hand Natalia held out. But instead of shaking hers, the older woman lifted her palm and studied it for a second before looking into Rose’s eyes. Trying not to squirm, Rose had to swallow twice to get air past the knot in her throat. It felt as if the woman was peering into her soul, and Rose wasn’t sure what she’d find there.

“Well, this will be an interesting couple of weeks,” the woman finally said, tracing her finger over the lines on Rose’s hand. “You and Samson are working in the apartment we rent upstairs, my dear. It has a lovely reputation.”

Uh huh.

Rose slowly withdrew her hand, curling her fingers into her palm to try and relieve the tingling.

“What kind of reputation?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Natalia said with a delighted laugh. “Come, my dear. Let’s get started.”

Taking Rose’s hand again—was this woman always so touchy feely?—Natalia pulled her around the counter and through the double doors leading to the kitchen.

“I can’t leave the cafe unattended. But you go ahead and go back to greet your future.”

“Future?” Rose frowned.

“Friend, I mean. Greet your friend.” With that, another knowing smile and an encouraging pat on the shoulder, Natalia stepped out.

Leaving Rose standing just inside the doorway, welcomed by the sound of laughter and the scent of heaven. The quaint kitchen was like something out of a fairy tale. The sort she’d loved to read as a child. Stories filled with good witches and fairy princesses and happy ever after. That was before her mother had deemed anything with magic to be off limits.

But her mother’s superstitions aside, Rose was an adult now. And she loved this kitchen. There was something about it that gave her a tingle in her belly.

A feeling of... Something.

Something she didn’t recognize.

As she stepped further into the room, she saw Sam.

This time the tingle she got was a little lower than her belly.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was even better looking in person than his photos, or even the few FaceTime video chats they’d had.

His hair was gilded bronze, tousled and sexily shaggy over a rugged face softened by full lips and dark eyes framed by lashes lush enough to make Rose sigh in both admiration and envy.

She couldn’t tell his height because he was seated, but his shoulders were broad beneath his blue chambray shirt. A silver ring glinted off his pinky when he gestured, and when he threw back his head and laughed, she felt herself melt a little inside.

It took her a few seconds to tear her gaze away from him to look at the two women he was with. Stunning, was all she could think. Though there was at least forty years between them, they were obviously related. Rose noted the sharp cheekbones, the exotic eyes and the vivid looks and realized they and Natalia were family. Mother, daughter and grandmother, perhaps?

As if drawn by her thoughts, the younger woman slanted a look her way and smiled.

“Welcome,” she said, dozens of bracelets jangling as she gestured Rose into the room. “You must be Rose. Join us.”

His eyes locked on her face Sam got to his feet.

“Rose,” he greeted, his smile warming as he strode across the room. Nerves hit her again, clenching so tight she could barely breathe.

Before she could decide whether to offer her hand for a casual-but-businesslike shake or to take both of his hands to squeeze in a friendly-but-circumspect hello, he wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a wide circle.

So much for casual and circumspect.

Laughter gurgled and joy filled her, swirling like a waltz to a lusting tempo through her system.

With the same enthusiasm, he introduced her to the other women. Anja, Natalia’s gorgeous gypsy of a daughter, and Odette, Anja’s grandmother.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Anja said with a friendly smile. “Is this your first time visiting Karma Café?”

“It is, but I promise now that I know it’s here, it won’t be my last.”

Sam let his friends put Rose at ease.

That gave him more time to enjoy the sight of her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known what she looked like. He’d been aware that she had long blonde hair, but he hadn’t realized it was like golden silk, waving over her shoulders in soft curls. He’d seen for himself that her eyes were blue, but he noticed that in person they glowed like sapphires beneath lush lashes and arched brows a few shades darker than her hair. Along with full lips and delicately curved cheeks, it all added up to a tempting combination of sweet and sexy.

As slender as a wisp in a sweater a shade lighter than her eyes and black pants tucked into black patent knee-high boots studded with black rivets.

She was gorgeous.

He’d been prepared for that.

It was the lustful kick in the gut that took him by surprise. Not wise, he told himself. At least, not now.

Better to focus on the task at hand. He’d help with her storyline, he’d convince her to come back to Coeur d’Alene and help her grandparents. Once there, once she’d reunited with her family, he could focus on getting personal.

Very, very personal.

“You have the look of your grandmother,” Odette said, her lightly accented words interrupting Sam’s thoughts.

Rose and Anja had stopped their discussion mid-sentence, both turning to look at the older woman. Anja’s expression was calm as ever, but Rose looked like the sweet little old woman had come around the counter and kicked her in the knee.

Sam winced, wishing Odette had kept her mouth shut. He already knew he had his work cut out for him convincing Rose to open her heart and her life to her grandparents. He’d figured on building up to the topic, circling it until he’d found just the right approach.

So much for that plan.

“You know my family?” Rose asked, her tone reflecting the surprised caution on her face. Her gaze cut to his, then away, but not before he’d see the worry in her eyes.

She knew he lived in Northern Idaho, but had never mentioned her family in the same area. He hadn’t given it a lot of thought before, but now Sam wondered why just talking about them should cause that level of concern. He obviously had a lot more work cut out for him than he’d anticipated.

“I know your grandparents, Leah and Stephen,” Odette said, her eyes never leaving Rose’s face. “I’ve met your aunt and two uncles, some of your cousins. And, of course, your mother.”

It was like watching a person fold into themselves. Rose simply closed up. She didn’t move, but Sam could feel her emotions shutting down, her defenses coming up. He figured that was pretty telling. Not just of her feelings about her family, but of the challenge he had ahead of him.

“Odette,” he quietly chided, halting her words. To back it up, he sent thoughts of warning, of a teetering cliff-edge. The older woman blinked, then frowned, giving him an impatient look that assured him she’d heard and didn’t particularly like the message.

“Very well,” she huffed, turning back to the counter where she’d been preparing tarts. “My words aren’t necessary at this time, but perhaps a treat would be to your preference?”

She gestured to the trays stacked, four deep, on the racks.

“Apple pie? Cinnamon cake? Chocolate cupcakes or a strawberry parfait? They’re all quite delicious and will help you with the task at hand.”

“We’ll wait,” Sam insisted.

He’d heard enough about Karma Café’s helpful treats to be willing to risk it just yet. Chocolates that inspired lust and turnovers that engendered truth were all well and good, but he’d rather get the ball rolling on his own. If he saw a need for a boost in the form of a tasty treat later, he’d know where to go.

“Why don’t I show you upstairs,” Anja said, her expression apologetic even as her eyes searched Sam’s face. “The two of you can get started without interruption.”

Rose’s gaze shifted from person to person, a mix of confusion and suspicion covering her delicate features. She didn’t object, though.

Actually, Sam noted, she didn’t say a word. She simply waited. He wondered if she could feel the pull and tug of conflicting energies, the demand and expectation hovering in the air.

“Rose? I hope you’re happy with the apartment. I figure it’ll be nice to have a neutral space to focus on making the story work. From what Odette says, it should be a great creativity inspiration,” he said, glancing at the older woman who’d arranged this little scenario.

“The energy is vibrationally aligned to possibilities,” Odette said in the same commonplace tone he figured she’d use to say the tarts were made with butter. “And doesn’t all creativity stem from possibilities?”

Hmm. Good point. Instead of answering, though, Sam glanced at Rose. She looked as if she couldn’t decide between nodding or frowning, so had gone for both.

Time to go, he decided, gesturing Rose toward a narrow staircase at the back of the kitchen.

With a quiet thank you to Odette, accompanied by another searching look, Rose finally joined him and Anja at the stairs. Her silence as they climbed to the second story wasn’t encouraging.

Thankfully, the minute Anja pushed open the door to Sam’s temporary workspace, all worry fled. Actually, so did the power of thought. There was something about neon leopard print combined with glittering fuchsia fur that shut down the brain.

All Sam could do was stare.

And wonder what the hell neon green walls were vibrationally aligned to.

And more importantly, why.