KATIE DECIDED TO ACCEPT that the day was only going to get worse when she found herself standing in front of an old, crumbly building with a neon sign that winked I KNEW YOU WERE COMING in bright pink letters.

      Sunlight glinted harshly upon the fading yellow, blue and gold paint decorating the splintered wood. Several shingles were missing from the roof, and some, she noticed, were strewn across the front lawn and embedded in the weeds. She cringed at such an atrocity and fought the urge to offer her services, free of charge, simply to rid the world of such a visual blemish.

      “Are you sure this is the kind of place you want to deal with?” she asked Jorlan for the third time.

      His gaze scanned the perimeter, taking in every detail. “Is this the home of the Druid psychic?” It was the same thing he’d said each time before.

      “Yes.”

      “Then this is exactly the kind of place I want to deal with.”

      Katie remained unconvinced. “Instead of relying on someone else, why don’t you just click your heels together or something and send yourself home?”

      A muscle ticked in his jaw, and seconds dragged by in silence.

      “Well?”

      Nothing.

      I don’t need this aggravation, she thought darkly. Every time she asked him a personal question, he turned mutinous, as if she had no right to know anything about him. He’d take her heart, sure. But share the tiniest bit of information about himself? Hell, no.

      “Come on,” she snapped, angry with him—and with herself. “Let’s get this over with.” The man was too secretive, too stubborn, and she was better off without him. If this psychic had the power to help him, Katie decided then and there to lie and say she loved him just to get him out of her life.

      Holding her head high, she marched to the front door. She reached out, clasped the knob, then stopped, waiting. Jorlan never approached her side. Frown deepening, she spun around. Her alien stood in the exact same place she’d left him, his chin angled to the side, his legs braced apart.

      “I sense no magic here,” he said. His own frown deepened. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath.

      “You didn’t sense magic in my answering machine, either, and look where that got you.”

      “’Twas different.”

      She wanted to ask how it was different but knew she’d get no answer. “Do you want to leave?”

      “Nay.” He still did not join her on the porch.

      Was he simply nervous? Anticipating success? Failure? Or was he right? There truly was no magic here. She believed the latter and decided to point out the obvious. “If there’s no magic here, they won’t be able to help you.”

      “The most powerful of the Druinn are able to disguise and hide their power.” He didn’t seem convinced that that was the case here, however. In fact, every emotion except assurance played over his features: doubt, hope, determination.

      In that moment, her demeanor softened toward him. He wanted to go home; she couldn’t blame him for that. Were the situation reversed, she would desire the same thing, and would do anything, use anyone, to gain what she wanted, and she probably wouldn’t share her personal information with aliens, either. At least he was honest about his intentions.

      “Let’s go inside and give it a try,” she said softly.

      “I need but a moment more.”

      “All right. Take as long as you need.”

      Jorlan jerked a hand down his face. Though everything inside him screamed to leave this place, he couldn’t walk away. If there was a chance, even a minute chance of discovering what he needed, he had to go inside.

      When he tried to move his legs, however, they refused to obey. He scowled. What was keeping him locked where he stood? Doubt? Mayhap. Yet he knew that was not the whole of it. As questions swirled through his mind, a foreign emotion uncoiled inside him, an emotion he couldn’t identify—or mayhap did not want to identify.

      How much time had passed on Imperia? If, like here, a thousand years had passed, how many of his friends had possessed enough magic to survive the ages? How many had suffered in death? How many still lived? How would his family receive him? Would he be welcomed with open arms or looked upon as a stranger? Jorlan dragged in a harsh breath. The sweet, gentle scent of the air was almost foul in his nostrils.

      “I’ll be with you the entire time.” Katie’s voice wrapped around his body like a soft, comforting cloak.

      His gaze sought hers and he watched a gentle smile play across her mouth, that mouthwatering smile that lit her entire face. A man could get lost in the sensual web she wove and forget all about his troubles. Forget his impatience to leave.

      Jorlan shifted from one foot to the other and forced himself to glance away. The woman was in desperate need of a keeper, he was coming to realize, and ’twas a job that appealed to him more each second he spent with her.

      Mayhap when he left, he would take her with him; he would instruct her in the proper ways to interact with a man, all the while winning her affections as the spell stipulated. He could make love with her—many, many times—with the mystique of Imperia surrounding them. Better still, Katie could serve as a seductive distraction did he have no family left.

      As quickly as the idea formed in his mind, Jorlan discarded it. He would get what he needed from her, and then he would leave her here. He did not have room in his life for a woman from another world, especially one that made him feel things he was better off not feeling.

      “When we finally