“Oh, I don’t mind,” Cassie said quickly.

Arizona watched her, but there was no guile in her expression. Had she really meant what she’d said?

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and all the attraction that had been missing when Cassie had touched him slammed into him with the subtlety of an aircraft carrier taking out a forty-foot yacht.

Chloe stood just inside the kitchen. She wore a sleeveless dress in pale peach. The soft-looking fabric clung to her curves in a way designed to make a man forget to breathe. Her long hair had been pulled back into a braid. His fingers itched to tug the curls free.

“You might want to rethink your comment, Cassie,” Chloe said to her sister. “I believe you just told Arizona you wanted him to take his pants off.”

“I do.” Suddenly, Cassie seemed to realize the implications of what she’d just said. She blanched, then color flooded her face. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean— That is to say, he has a scar and—” She glanced from him to Chloe and back. “I didn’t mean anything else. We were talking and—”

Chloe chuckled. “We know what you meant. Just be careful. Not every strange man is going to understand you’re not issuing an invitation.”

Cassie nodded.

Arizona leaned close to her. “I won’t take offense if you’ll explain to your sister that I’m not really strange.”

Chloe took the seat opposite him. “Yes, you are, and I’ll thank you not to corrupt my little sister.”

“Little by how much?” he asked. “Charity told me you’re about the same age.”

“Chloe is six months older,” Cassie told him. “I was adopted.”

“So I heard.” He looked from one to the other.

Charity came into the room and walked to the stove. “The sauce is nearly ready,” she said, lifting the cover and stirring. Instantly a spicy tomato aroma filled the room.

“I’ll do the garlic bread,” Chloe said.

“I’ll take care of the salad.” Cassie headed for the refrigerator.

“Should I offer to help or will I be told to just stay out of the way?”

“The latter, of course,” Charity told him, her eyes twinkling at him as she glanced over her shoulder.

He leaned back in his chair. It didn’t matter how many cultures he visited, or where he traveled in the world. Some customs remained the same. The ritual dance of women preparing a meal was one.

Whether the women were barefoot by an open fire, in a log house, a stone kitchen or a Victorian mansion, they moved with a grace and rhythm that was as old as the species. Conversation ebbed and flowed as they performed their magic. He supposed he enjoyed watching because no one did this for him very often. He was a frequent guest, but never a member of the family.

He caught Chloe’s eye and they shared a moment of connection across the kitchen. The rest of the room disappeared until she was the only one left. Then Cassie touched her arm and she turned away from him. He was again on the outside. He envied her the place she held in this special world.

* * *

THE DINNER DISHES had been pushed to the center of the table, but no one was in a hurry to pick them up. Arizona tore apart the last piece of garlic bread as Cassie raised her hands in frustration.

“How can you say it’s not true?” she asked. “The nightgown has been in the Bradley family for generations.”

“It’s just a nightgown,” Chloe insisted. “How can you say it has magic powers? As I’ve said before, there is no such thing as magic or destiny. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

Cassie shook her head. “Aunt Charity, you talk to her.”

“She won’t listen to me,” the older woman said. “Arizona, you have a go at it. Chloe is our resident cynic.”

“I’ll try.” He leaned forward and stared at the beautiful woman sitting across from him. He would rather carry her up to bed, but that hadn’t been offered as one of the options, so he thought about the various feats of magic he’d experienced personally.

“Several years ago I was in India,” he began. “A boy had been mauled by a tiger stalking the village. The cat nearly took off his leg. Although the bone wasn’t broken, he lost a lot of blood.”

He tried not to notice the way her eyes darkened as her pupils widened with the storytelling. He tried to ignore the scent of her body, the slender curves beneath her dress or the way he knew how great it would be between them, almost as if they’d been lovers before.

“If he’d been near a hospital, he might have had a chance,” he continued. “But the village didn’t even have a nurse, let alone medical facilities. My grandfather and I knew the boy was going to die and we could only offer painkillers to ease his passing.”

He paused, remembering his own fear from that night. He’d been thirteen or fourteen, and he could relate to the screams of fear and pain from the injured child.

“That night the village performed an old ceremony of sacrifice and worship. They came together to heal one of their own. I wasn’t allowed to attend—I was considered too young. But I heard it. The singing and chanting. I smelled the incense. I don’t know what they did but it worked. When I went to visit him the next morning, I was afraid he would already be dead. Instead, I found him sitting up. His wound had nearly healed. He was talking and laughing because the pain was gone. Within a week, it was as if it had never happened. Since then, I’ve witnessed many things I can’t explain.”

“Wow,” Cassie breathed. “That is so cool.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Every supermarket tabloid has a story about people being abducted by aliens. Do you believe that, too?”

So she was a doubter. Somehow that made the challenge more interesting. “I saw the boy. When I see aliens abducting people from cornfields, I’ll believe that as well.”

“I want to know what has made you believe in all this.”

“I want to know what has made you such a cynic,” he responded. “Do you mean to tell me that in all your twenty-five years there hasn’t been one incident you can’t explain? One event or circumstance that makes no sense, but that you can’t deny?”

Their gazes locked. Something flickered in her eyes. Something that called out to him and if they’d been alone…

But they weren’t, he reminded himself. They had two very interested onlookers.

“My, look at the time,” Chloe said. “If we don’t get these dishes soaking, they’ll never come clean.”

With that she sprang to her feet and started to clear the table. The other two women moved to help her. Cassie shooed Arizona back into his seat when he tried to assist. His gaze followed Chloe. She was hiding something. He could feel it.

There was a mystery behind her pretty face and he had every intention of solving it.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I LOOK like a bridesmaid,” Cassie complained.

Chloe fluffed her sister’s hair. “You look beautiful. I love that dress.”

“It’s too young. I should change into something else. Why can’t I look sophisticated, like you?”

Chloe faced front and studied their reflections in the mirror. They stood in her bathroom, both ready to go out for the evening. Cassie wore a long-sleeved, silky dress of pale pink that fell to midcalf. Lace edged the oversize collar. Her thick hair had been smoothed away from her face, exposing the gold heart earrings she always wore—the earrings that matched Chloe’s locket—a legacy from their mother.

Chloe was willing to admit that while Cassie didn’t look like a bridesmaid, there was definitely something virginal about her dress and her expression. She was still untouched by the ways of the world. Chloe thought about her own heartache and figured her sister was lucky to still be so unaware of the emotional pain that awaited her.

Chloe turned her attention to her own reflection. In contrast to her sister’s innocence, she looked ready for sin. She’d pulled her long curls up on top of her head, securing them in a large clip. The ends fell to the back of her neck and danced against her bare skin. Her dress was simple. A scoop-neck, long-sleeved velvet dress. The soft burgundy fabric came to midthigh, exposing a lot of leg.

Overtly sexy wasn’t her usual style, but then neither was a man like Arizona. She was attending a reception in his honor. She figured she needed all the help she could get just to maintain some kind of power base in the relationship. If only she weren’t so attracted to him, she might have a fighting chance. But she was attracted. She shivered at the thought of being near him again. Of seeing him and talking to him. Lord help her if he asked her to dance. She would probably become a giant puddle right there on the dance floor.

“I hate being short,” Cassie said with a sigh.

“You’re five-five. That’s average, not short. Besides, I would love to be petite.”

“Me, too.” Cassie patted her hips. “Instead, I’m curvy. You get to be tall and slender and beautiful. If you weren’t my sister, I think I’d hate you. I might just hate you anyway.”

Chloe smiled and kissed her cheek. “You know you love me. I love you, too. So we’re even.”

The doorbell rang downstairs. Cassie glanced toward the door. “That will be Joel. You know we’re going out to dinner before we come to the reception, right?”

“Why? There will be food at the party. You can eat there.”

Cassie slipped out of the bathroom. “You know how Joel is. He’s concerned that with Arizona’s reputation and his world travel, the university will be serving something exotic. Joel doesn’t eat exotic things. We’ll go to our regular restaurant and join you later.”

Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What on earth was Cassie doing with Joel? Why couldn’t she see she was simply settling? There was a whole world out there just waiting to be seen. But instead of speaking her mind, Chloe forced herself to smile. They’d had this discussion a hundred times. Cassie knew her sister’s opinion on the subject, and she was old enough to make her own decisions.

“Don’t change your mind about coming,” Chloe said. “I really want you there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I promise.” She waved, then left to meet her date.

Chloe lingered in the bathroom for a few minutes, touching up her makeup and spraying on perfume. As a rule, she didn’t put much on her face during the day. A little mascara, sunscreen and powder. But for events like this, she went all out. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing she looked her best. She would need the confidence to face everyone at the reception.

“It’s really dumb to lie to myself,” she said, and she collected her tiny evening purse. Okay, she would tell the truth. She wanted to look her best to give herself the confidence to face Arizona…and because she was female enough to want to knock his socks off. It wasn’t going to happen, of course, but a girl could dream.

Thirty minutes later, she accepted the car claim ticket from the valet and stared up at the front of the hotel. The welcome reception was being held in the grand ballroom. Bradley wasn’t that big a town and most events like this were held here. She knew the approximate layout of the room, at least half the guest list and who was likely to get drunk and embarrass themselves. She was here both as a reporter and as a guest. The former role meant that she would need to spend at least part of the evening talking to Arizona.

“Talk about a hardship,” she murmured under her breath. She made a promise to herself that no matter how good he looked in his tux, she would not swoon, then she squared her shoulders and headed for the ballroom.

The huge room was much as she expected. Bright lights glittered from a dozen chandeliers. There were crowds of people in tight conversation groups. Her name was checked against the list of invitees, then she was admitted.

Chloe made her way to the bar in the east corner and ordered a glass of white wine. It was false courage at best, but she had a feeling she was going to need all the help she could get.

As she sipped the tart liquid, she glanced around. While she told herself she was just checking out who was wearing what, she knew she was actually searching for him. Damn. She couldn’t even pretend she wasn’t interested for five minutes. What hope did she have of pulling off the professional act? Well, she was going to have to figure out a way. Maybe if she walked around for a while and chatted with some other people she might figure out how to pull this off. If she—“I thought you were never going to get here.”

The voice came from behind her, but she didn’t have to turn around to identify the speaker. Even if she hadn’t recognized him from how he sounded, her body instinctively knew. Was it his scent, his heat or something more basic than that? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that there wasn’t going to be enough time to get her act together.

Fake it until you make it, she told herself as she turned so they were facing each other.

He’d had a recent haircut and shave. She filed the information away as she drank in the sight of him. Strong, handsome features, green eyes that twinkled with amusement and what she hoped was appreciation. He wore a black tux, obviously tailored, and a crisp, white shirt. He was tall, dangerous and too sexy by far. The only thing that gave her hope of surviving the evening without making a fool of herself was the fact that he seemed to be studying her as completely as she had studied him.

“Well,” he asked and did a quick turn, like a fashion model. “What do you think?”

“You clean up very nicely, Dr. Smith.”

“I could say the same, but it wouldn’t do justice. You always look lovely, but tonight you’re radiant.”