“That is a problem.”

“Why?”

He dropped his voice. “Because I like kissing you.”

She jerked. “Trust me; I’m the complete opposite of what you need.”

“How do you know what I need?”

His flirty tone seemed to piss her off. Sparks shot from ocean-blue eyes and reminded him of a tsunami of temper. “Because I interviewed you, remember? The only reason you’re suddenly interested in me is some perverse masculine challenge to win me over because I don’t like you.”

Damn, this was more fun than his last court battle. “Why wouldn’t you like me? I’m charming, successful, intelligent, and a great lover. Wanna test me out?”

Her gaze narrowed. “I know your game, Montgomery. You signed up for this thing as a joke and to keep an eye on your sister. You think you’ll waltz through these dates, and I’ll keep you amused while you poke at me and have your fun. But I’ve got news for you. I play by my own rules, and by the end of this contract, I’ll rip down those neat little walls you built and show you what it’s like to be in love. Real love. Not the kind of crap you play at. I’m gonna do it for two reasons. One, I’m damn good at my job.”

“What’s the second?”

She smiled, slow and deliberate, imitating the symbol of Eve and everything a man would give up just for a taste of a poison apple. “Because payback is a bitch.”

His heart thundered at her warning, almost as if she had cast a spell on him like a hard-core gypsy. She put her glass on the bar and spun on her heel. “Where are you going?”

“Home. My party mood has disappeared and someone is waiting for me. Someone who reminds me that love and emotion are real, and not some mocking game played by arrogant lawyers.”

A strange panic stirred in his gut. “You didn’t tell me you were in a serious relationship! Who’s waiting home for you?”

She threw him a pitying glance. “His name is Robert, and you’re not worthy to say his name. Good night.”

Kate stalked off and left him wondering if he’d pushed both of them too far.

Who the hell was Robert?

And why did he care?


“BABY, YOU’RE HERE!”

Kate stepped over the threshold and got smothered by her mother’s enthusiastic greeting. Strong, tanned arms wrapped around her neck and squeezed like a pumped-up boa constrictor. The familiar scents of incense and pot drifted in the air of the cozy lake house in upstate New York, luring pedestrians through the doors with a promise of pleasure.

Kate hugged her back and fought off the rest of the embrace in order to breathe. “Mom, what if you get busted by the police? For God’s sake, at least close the door and windows when you smoke.” Madeline Seymour laughed and shook her head in easy amusement. White-blonde hair similar to Kate’s shimmered in the rays of sunlight.

“No one wants to arrest an old lady, darling. Want some? You’re way too tense, I can tell from the set of your shoulders.” Her mother’s tall, elegant body was clad in hot pink yoga pants, halter top, and her usual bamboo beads to promote health. Her bare feet padded over the worn wooden floors toward the back of her makeshift workout/meditation/drug studio. Kate had been raised in the hippie era where free love, peace, health, and spiritual kindness are the tokens of a good life. Madeline ate only vegetarian foods, wore organic clothing, grew an herbal garden to rival Vitamin World, and held retreats at her lake bungalow for women searching for their inner Goddess. When Kate was a teenager, she’d caught sight of her mother on a harvest moon night, naked and singing with a bunch of other females around a fire. That had ended in an epic battle with tears, rage, and a vow to never talk to her mother for embarrassing her like that again.

Kate respected the philosophies her parents raised her with but hadn’t dealt easily with combining the real world she craved with her mother’s cringe-worthy ideals. Arilyn, of course, adored her and said Madeline was the last great hippie left in New York.

Kate shrugged out of her coat and eased onto a purple-seated cushioned chair. The Buddha statue dominated the room, with wildly painted murals on the wall to inspire relaxation and flow. “No, thanks. Sobriety is a goal of mine.”

Her mother floated across the room and settled on a plump gold cushion on the floor. She hit the Remote button and the sounds of chanting monks cut abruptly off. “I just finished my yoga practice and decided to meditate before my client tonight. He’s having some problems with impotency, and I thought we’d try some controversial methods. I need clarity beforehand.”

Even after all these years, knowing her mother was a sex therapist still had the same affect. Sheer discomfort. Then guilt. Who wanted to think of a parent having sex, let alone with a bunch of strangers in order to help them? Besides not being able to speak clearly, she grew up trying to hide her mother’s occupation from the world. “TMI, Mom,” she said.

“Sorry, dear. Now, what brings you? It’s been a while.”

Kate squirmed. “I’m sorry; I’ve been so busy with Kinnections. Are you okay out here? You’d tell me if you needed anything, right?”

Madeline smiled. In her late fifties, her face glowed like a younger woman’s, unlined, smooth as glass, soft as butter. Deep blue eyes lit up her face, reminding Kate of Michelle Pfeiffer, a beautiful presence most people couldn’t stand to look away from. “I’m fine. Seeing someone new who’s wonderful and making me happy. Are you having sex, dear?”

Kate sighed. “Sure, Mom. I’m having lots of sex, thanks for asking.”

“Don’t lie. You’re so stopped up with emotion my skin is tingling. How many times have I told you a good orgasm is a release of toxins in both the body and mind? Did you get the vibrator I sent you last week?”

This was so not happening. No wonder she never visited. Kate fought for calm. “I got it. There are so many speeds and buttons it’s taking me a while to go through the instruction manual. Umm, can we focus here?”

“Of course. Tell me the problem.”

“I j-j-just had a few questions. About Dad. About the touch.”

Madeline nodded in encouragement. “You can ask me anything. You know how much I loved your father and I’d never hide anything from you.”

Yes. How many times had she prayed to not know certain information? Sometimes she felt as if she was born into a family she never understood or identified with until the touch had visited her and she realized she was blood. She was only fourteen when her father passed from a heart attack, and she’d been enraged at her mother’s ability to move on. Until she came to understand later that it was the only way Madeline knew how to cope with the loss of her soul mate. The other men were mere distractions in a world that had seeped color and a desperate attempt to fill a void only her father managed to soothe.

For one strange instant, an image of Slade drifted past her vision. What was one of the requirements on his list for his perfect woman?

No embarrassing family secrets.

Good God, he’d go screaming for the hills of The Sound of Music if he got one good look at her mother and heard her history. And why the hell was she thinking of him again anyway? His date with Hannah tonight would be perfect. She’d left him a polite voicemail message asking if he needed any advice or support and he never got back to her. Obviously, he had everything under control. She just hoped he didn’t break her ironclad rules and try to seduce Hannah.

“Kate? You said you had questions?”

She dragged herself back to the present and swore she wouldn’t think about Slade Montgomery again. Ever. For real. “I know you used to tell me about how you connected with Dad immediately on contact. But now I want to hear specifics. Was it a gut feeling? Did you get dizzy? Or did your skin tingle?”

Madeline smiled with the memory. “Oh, no, it was much more intense than that. Your father and I went to shake hands and an electrical shock jolted us immediately. It was the strangest thing—almost like I stuck a wet finger in a socket. Benjamin Franklin’s famous kite had nothing on us.”

Shit.

Kate tucked her hair behind her ear and studied the whirling patterns of the bamboo floor. Just a coincidence. “After the shock, did you get a sense he was meant for you? Or was it just a physical chemistry?”

“Sure, it was sexual, but that type of buzz comes once in a lifetime. It always has for our family. Your grandmother experienced the same symptoms with your grandfather, and so on, dating back for generations. Don’t worry, darling, when you feel it you’ll know. There’s no possibility of denying it. And when you do, it is literally the most earth-shattering sex you have ever experienced.”

Kate ignored her own crazy staccato heartbeat and dove straight in. “It happened to me.”

Madeline stared at her, eyes wide. Her voice dropped to an intimate whisper. “You met the one?”

No way.

Kate jumped to her feet and paced. She’d never wanted a joint so bad in her whole frickin’ life. Kennedy would have a field day with this one. “No, that’s the problem. He’s not the one. So not the one. But I think it means something else that we missed. He’s a client at Kinnections, and I think I’m meant to find him his soul mate. I’m convinced it’s a weird third-party factor misfire.”

For the first time in years, she caught a seriousness to her mother’s face that caused her gut to free-fall. Why had she thought this would be simple? A quick explanation, an easy visit, and a return to her normal life? “There’s never a mistake with the touch,” Madeline stated firmly. “I know you’ve fought me on this, but it will be easier if you accept that this man is meant for you. What’s wrong with him? Why do you think he couldn’t be your match?”

“B-b-b-because he’s everything I don’t want!” The nerves rose up and choked her, strangling the free flow of words she needed as desperately as air. Kate took a breath, pictured the blank screen, and heard the faint sound of music to soften her syllables. When she spoke again, she had calmed. “He’s not right for me. Once someone in our family experiences the touch, what happens if the person denies it? Or what if it’s wrong? Has that ever happened?”

Madeline turned away. Studied the bright orange Buddha statue as if it could answer her question. “Well, it has happened once. Before your grandmother. A cousin of ours experienced the touch, but felt as if it was wrong. So she didn’t marry him.”

Finally. She stopped pacing and leaned forward. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What happened?”

Her mother reached out to the small drawer with trembling fingers and slid out a joint. Kate stomped down on her disapproval and hoped breathing in the smoke would get her a contact high to calm her down. “I can’t tell you.”

Impatience nipped at her nerves. “What do you mean you can’t tell me? You just said you’d tell me everything I asked. What’s the big deal?”

Again, Madeline’s eyes refused to meet hers. “It’s just a rumor. You cannot deny the touch, a gift given by God. If you do, there are consequences.”

A shiver raced down her spine. She felt as if she’d been dropped into a horror movie. “Mom, I don’t have time for spooks. What type of consequences?”

“I don’t know. I never learned the whole story of my cousin Rose. My grandmother told me it was a lesson not to deny the man meant for you.”

Kate snorted. “Great, we are a bunch of witches. I’m not gonna get burned at the stake, am I?”

“Don’t make fun. That was a tragic time in women’s history.”

“Sorry.” She rubbed her temples and tried to focus. “Okay, so something bad happens if you deny the gift. I don’t think I’m denying it. I think it’s stopped up and I’m sensing a connection with one of our other clients.”

Madeline took a hit. The smoke seemed to give her the courage needed to look up. “Be careful, darling. This is dangerous territory. No one in the family has used the gift as well as you do. You’ve been able to turn it into a pathway for people to meet their mates. If you deny your own fate, you don’t know what you will unleash.”

“Yeah, consequences we don’t know or you can’t tell me. Great. Thanks for the info, Mom. So, you’re saying that everyone who experiences the touch for themselves just accepts it? How did you explain that to Dad? Or what if you connect with a random guy on the street? Do you chase him down, screaming if you don’t get married, you’ll get screwed by consequences?”

Madeline sighed. “Each situation is different. Of course, marriage doesn’t happen overnight. Your father and I dated for almost a year before we married, but the connection helped open a flow between us that was vital to the relationship. Has this man pursued you? Shown any interest other than being a standard client of Kinnections? Do you have any type of relationship with this man?”