“It can’t be the first time that’s happened. You’ve been selling potions for several years.”

Selma met Amber’s gaze. “The guy lives in Arizona. I saw a report about a murder of a young engaged couple in the area that matched the description Mr. Love-Struck gave me.”

Helen grew quiet.

“Why are you worried about Jake’s daughters?”

It was Selma’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Just am.”

“Have you told Jake?”

“Jake thinks I’m wacked. He won’t believe any of my paranoia.”

Amber shook her head. “Jake doesn’t think you’re wacked.” Amber had heard Selma use the word wacked enough to understand its meaning. “He tries to keep you thinking he doesn’t believe in you so you don’t realize how much he does. If I had to guess, I say Jake might have feelings for you.”

Selma reached for her wine while her nose turned red and the freckles on her face stood out against her pale skin.

Helen sat forward on the couch. “Oh. My. God. What happened with you and Jake?”

“Nothing!”

The denial was too quick.

The fluttering feeling Amber experienced when Gavin touched her, kissed her, warmed her skin. “He kissed you.”

Now there was no denial.

Helen squealed.

“It was a ploy,” Selma said. “To convince his ex that we were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Helen shook her head. “What? Why?”

Amber sat back and listened. While Selma explained the details of the pretend relationship and how Jake had kissed her, Helen filled each silence with questions. Before they drank another glass of wine, Selma was telling both of them anything romantic with Jake was a really bad idea. “I wouldn’t have felt anything with his kiss if I wasn’t so horny. It’s been a while for me.”

“Someone in the room is kidding herself. I don’t buy that, do you, Amber?”

Amber shook her head with a laugh. “Nay.”

Selma stood and waved them off. “You guys are crazy. Jake thinks I’m a crazy witch, nothing more.”

“You’re not a witch,” Amber told her.

“I know that. Whatever. I’m sure he won’t kiss me again. Ever.”

Amber? Gavin called her name.

She stood and started for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” Helen asked. “It was just getting good.”

“Continue without me. Gavin’s waking.”

Amber turned to leave the room and heard Selma say, “Wow, that’s some serious bond.”

Amber slid into her bedroom to find Giles asleep in the chair. When the click of the door sounded in the room, his feet slid off the bed and onto the floor, waking him.

“Kincaid?”

“’Tis Amber.”

Giles glanced at the bed. “He’s not awake yet.”

“Almost,” she assured him. “Would it be too much to ask for some tea when he wakes?”

“Tea? Yeah, sure. Though I know he likes coffee.”

“That may be, but tea, something weak, would be best after so many days of not eating.”

Giles shook his head. “Of course. I’ll make it.”

He moved to the door.

“Helen and Selma are downstairs. They can help you find what you need in the kitchen.”

He looked at Gavin again. “You sure he’s waking up?”

Amber sat on the end of the bed, rested her hand on Gavin through the covers. “Aye, I’m certain.”

Giles left the room without any more questions.

I’m here. She told Gavin through their bond.

His eyes fluttered open slowly. His gaze found hers, and his dry lips moved into a grin. “You’re alive.”

“I told you I was.”

He moved his lips together a few times, frowned. “Water?”

Amber jumped off the bed and rounded it to help with his request.

He inched up to lay against the headboard as she brought a glass to his lips. After a few sips, she sat the glass back down. “How do you feel?”

“Like I took the wrong end of a blaster.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah. How long—”

“Three days. One day longer than I.”

Gavin reached out and touched her cheek. “I thought I was too late. I thought you were gone.”

“You didn’t have to bond with me.”

“I couldn’t let you die.”

Aye, you’re too honorable for that.

“It’s more than that,” he said aloud.

A knock on the door saved her from further conversation and offered a distraction. “Come in.”

Giles walked in with a tray and set it on the dresser across the room. “Decided to join the living, Kincaid?”

Gavin stretched with a wince. “Not sure how alive I am.”

“More than you were a few minutes ago. Gave us all a good scare.”

“I hope you and Simon can hold everything down for a little longer. I think standing is going to be a challenge.”

Giles lit the room with his smile. “We will. Damn good to see you awake, mate.”

Amber busied herself with Gavin’s tea once Giles left them alone again. “Sugar and cream will help replenish your system,” she told him. When she turned she paused. His stare moved through her.

“You didn’t have to bond to me,” he said in a soft whisper.

“I couldn’t let you die, either.”

Chapter Twenty

With the excitement of Kincaid waking and making his way downstairs the next morning, Selma was able to slip out of Mrs. Dawson’s home without any fuss. She knew the moment Amber and Helen remembered their conversation about her concerns about lover-boy with love potion number nine gone wrong, they’d be on her about staying at the manor.

She pulled into her parking spot, looked around the lot, didn’t see anything out of place, and walked to her apartment.

Her apartment looked exactly as it did when she left the day before. The light on her answering machine told her she had a message, but instead of listening to it, she tossed her purse on the kitchen counter and worked her way to the shower.

With her favorite satellite radio station filling her room with music, Selma managed a pair of panties and a bra, and then remembered she left the hamper with her clean clothes in the living room where she’d folded them the day before. She was towel drying her hair as she walked around the corner.

The man standing in the middle of her living room brought a scream to her throat. “Son-of-a-bitch.”