Chapter One, continued

Candles arranged on a glass mirror were burning. He didn't recognize their scent, but a lime and a stick of incense were placed next to them as some kind of clue.

Brightly printed silk scarves adorned a lattice on one wall. Silk flowers bloomed everywhere. CD's offered "calming sounds." Three stands held ladies' wigs, one each in red, blonde, and brunette. A feathered dream catcher caught his eye, and on a pedestal below it, he spotted a silver tray of highly polished stones. He picked one up and rubbed its smooth surface.

"Worry stones. Do you find that soothing?"

He put it back quickly, and she smiled, showing perfect white teeth. She pointed to the candle he'd looked at first. "That one's called Romance." She batted her eyelashes.

He pointed to the burning candles. "What are these?"

"Smoke and lime; they're called Ritual. It's all part of the healing science, aromatherapy."

Sam doubted aromatherapy was any kind of science.

"The bottle that fell on you was Tradition."

"Does that mean you always bop your customers?"

"Funny." Unsmiling, she tapped the glass-topped counter, and then opened the back to take out a bottle of oil with sprigs of something grassy in it. Net and ribbon encircled its long neck, and a handmade label said Lily's Own. "These are the bottles I said you wouldn't want to fall on you."

"You're right. I'd hate to leave town so soon, feet first." He took the heavy bottle from her hand. "Are you Lily, and do you make this stuff?"

"A friend makes it for me. They're scented oils. This one is Serenity, and it's made of lavender, chamomile, and bergamot oils, with sprigs of dried lavender." She took the bottle back and their fingers touched. A warm shock ran through his hand and he looked down to see long fingers with oval nails painted coral. He looked up and their gazes met.

"I usually manage to make people feel better." She smiled.

She certainly was a happy person. No wonder she had those tiny crinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. He felt his head again, to check for blood or a bump.

"Here." She extracted a worry stone from the tray and pressed it into his hand. "Rub this repeatedly, and if you don't feel better in the morning, come back for a bottle of this."

Sam chuckled. As she bent to put the bottle away, he noticed she held a sealed envelope in her other hand. It must contain his key, but he wasn't as eager to leave as he had been.

"Laughter is good for your health. I'm glad you haven't forgotten how," she said, leaning her elbows on the counter.

She was an unusual woman. He put the polished stone in his pants pocket. "Serenity and a worry stone. What makes you think I need either?"

She extended a finger and rubbed his forehead, between his eyes. "You have a frown line here. You're tense."

Her touch made him tenser. Trying not to frown, he motioned toward the bottles in the case. "You didn't say. Are you Lily?"

"Lily Madison." Nodding, she walked around the counter and extended a hand.

He grasped it, experiencing that same warm shock. She didn't pull away, even though he held it a moment too long. Her green eyes shone as clear as a lily pond and her lush red hair invited his touch. He wished she'd fallen into his arms. My lord. The candle scent must be getting to him. "I'm Sam Ch--"

A chime sounded, she jumped, and the envelope bounced off his foot. They both scrambled to pick it up; their noses touched, and Lily Madison chuckled.

She had a chime on her door.

Sam left Inner Radiance, red-faced and disgruntled. He'd been so taken back by the sight of a pair of gorgeous legs, he hadn't heard it and she'd been laughing up her sleeve the whole time. Aromatherapy must be akin to voodoo. Otherwise, why after five minutes in a town no bigger than the college campus where he taught, he would make a fool of himself?

He could clear out the house he'd inherited in a week, tops. Then he'd put it in the hands of a realtor and vamoose.

A slightly stooped man, wearing a buttoned-up cardigan sweater and a straw hat with a red, white, and blue band, came out of a building with a blinking sign that said Jodie's Chrome Grill. He raised his hand in greeting.

Sam nodded. Quaint little town. Some people probably liked it here. The old guy had probably spent his life here. Had Lily Madison always lived here too? She was a beauty, but with luck, he'd never have to face her again. He still couldn't believe he hadn't heard the chime. His senses were always keen.

Shrugging, he jammed his hands in his pockets. He hadn't gotten his last name out of his mouth, and his name and address weren't on the envelope, so she didn't know who he was or where he lived. And it was a good thing, since she probably stuck pins in dolls and held séances in the back room.

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