In her chest, the warmth of her magick purred strongly, responding to the meditation, perhaps, or the prayer. Her breath caught in surprise. It was an alien sensation, and it made her uneasy. As she finished her prayer, her voice trembling, the magick warmed through her body. She wondered how to call it, how to control and use it.

She opened her eyes and picked up the glass.

"From my lips"—she took a deep drink of the milk— "to your bosom," and poured the rest of the glass of milk into the mounded earth.

The door to the greenhouse opened, startling her. She dropped the glass to the planting bed. The lights snapped on.

"Mira?" came Jack's voice.

She let out a slow, careful breath. "You scared me near to death.”

"What are you doing out here?”

She gripped the rim of the bed, the metal chilly against her fingers. "Making my monthly offering to the full moon.”

"To Artemis? Is that the goddess you follow?”

She shook her head. "Not specifically. It's just a ritual to show respect for powers greater than I am and for the earth.”

He took a few steps toward her and she turned to face him. Oh, hello ... he was barefoot, wearing only his dark blue pajama pants and no shirt.

His lips twitched. "You have a milk mustache.”

Horrified, she went to wipe it away, but he caught her hand. His eyes heavy-lidded, Jack reached out and slowly drew the pad of his thumb across her upper lip. The touch made her feel warm in places that had nothing to do with her mouth.

She'd never had any idea milk mustaches could be so sexy.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

"You couldn't be anywhere else. I have wards set on all the entrances, but the door to the roof is the only one regulated to allow you passage. I figured you might enjoy the greenhouse. I forgot to show it to you, but I see you found it on your own.”

"You could've stayed in bed. I would've been right back.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. "The door locks automatically when it shuts.”

"Oh.”

"Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?”

She shook her head. "Aren't you cold?”

"Fire witch, remember?”

"Why do you have this place?”

"You ask a lot of questions." He reached out in an easy, unhurried gesture and took her hand. With his index finger he lazily brushed the dirt from her palm. "There's a conservatory at the Coven. It's my favorite place there. I guess I wanted to recreate a little part of it in my home." He looked up at her. Small laugh lines crinkled around his so-blue eyes as he grinned. "All witches have a thing for the earth, don't they?”