A Wish Upon Jasmine
“When Jess couldn’t focus, when she didn’t know what to do, she cleaned a few more of them and hoped, maybe, to encounter secret, ancient treasures.
But the magic was all in the bottles. She set a box of dusty ones on the counter and began to wipe them down.
A shadowy shape moved in the doorway, and her heart leapt. But the man stepped forward, and although the lean, muscled body and the bones of his face were the same, his hair was a gold-streaked, sun-kissed texturing of blond to golden-brown.
“You must be Lucien,” she said.
The man checked in the doorway, his face blanking. Then he got control of himself, in a way that reminded her very strongly of Damien, and moved into the room with that same prowling grace. He was of a height, with that same long, lean strength and control to his movements.
“Antoine Vallier.” His voice was rather clipped.
Ah. The lawyer behind all the emails and communications and phone calls during the process as this heritage was passed to her.
“I apologize,”
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