Page 17 of A Roar for Magic

“I’d like to change that.” His voice dropped lower, nearly a purr. “Especially since I need your help.”

She arched an eyebrow. “M-my help?”

“The spa project. Did you forget?” He gestured to the damaged equipment around them. “These were meant to be part of our treatment rooms—specialized diffusers for the botanical blends we’re developing. But they need to be perfect. The scents, the medicinal properties, the magical resonance... it all has to work together seamlessly.”

“And you really think I can help with that?”

“I know you can.” He moved closer, and Clover caught hints of sandalwood and wild spaces beneath his expensive cologne. “Your work at Weaver’s Botanicals is exactly what we need. The way you blend magic with natural healing—it’s unique. Special.” His eyes locked with hers. “Like you.”

Clover’s heart stuttered. “That’s... quite a proposition.”

“I’m not finished.” His smile turned playful. “I want both your businesses involved. Botanical blends for the treatments, custom candle lines for ambiance and aromatherapy. A full partnership.”

“That’s...” She swallowed hard. “That’s a big commitment.”

NINE

“Iknow.” He stepped even closer, and Clover had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “We’d be working together closely. Spending a lot of time developing the right combinations, testing the effects...” His voice roughened. “If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Her magic sparked at the loaded question. This was business, she told herself firmly. Just business. Even if his proximity made her skin tingle and her power hum with awareness.

“I’ll think about it,” she managed.

“Have dinner with me.” The words came out low and urgent. “We can discuss the details. The partnership. Everything.”

“A business dinner in addition to the business picnic?”

“Not what I was thinking, but if that makes you more comfortable.” His eyes sparkled with that same mischief she recognized from Sabine. “I wouldn’t object if it turned into something more... personal.”

“How are you single when you’re such a flirt?”

“Admit you like it.”

The simple statement delivered with such quiet certainty knocked her usual defenses off-kilter. “I’ll think about it,” she repeated, but they both heard the smile in her voice.

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He stepped back, though reluctance colored the movement. “I should help track those rogues. Will you be all right?”

“I managed just fine.”

His grin widened. “I remember. The way you handled those vines was...” he paused, heat flickering in his gaze, “distracting.”

Clover’s magic sparked again. “Don’t you have rogues to chase?”

“I do.” He backed away, still grinning. “But we’ll finish this conversation soon. Over dinner, maybe?”

“We still have the picnic. Go catch your bad guys.”

His laugh echoed through the warehouse as he turned to leave, and Clover found herself fighting an answering smile. Only when he disappeared through the loading bay doors did she let out a shaky breath.

“Well,” Poe muttered from his perch on a nearby shelf. “That was interesting.”

“Shut up.”

“He fights good. For a cat.”

“I’m not discussing this.”

“Nice muscles too. Did you see how he?—”

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