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But she looked, and the pretty young teenager with the somber eyes did the rest. Morgana cursed inwardly. Dragon’s teeth and hellfire. She was as soppy as a wet valentine when it came to puppy love.
    “I won’t guarantee—only suggest.”
    “That will be wonderful.” Seizing the moment, Mrs. Littleton pulled out another picture, one she’d cut from the high school yearbook at the school library. “This is Matthew. A nice name, isn’t it? Matthew Brody, and Jessie Littleton. She was named for me. You will start soon, won’t you? The prom’s the first weekend in May.”
    “If it’s meant, it’s meant,” Morgana said, slipping the photos into her pocket.
    “Blessed be.” Beaming, Mrs. Littleton kissed Morgana’s cheek. “I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll be backMonday to shop.”
    “Have a good weekend.” Annoyed with herself, Morgana watched Mrs. Littleton depart.
    “Wasn’t she supposed to cross your palm with silver?” Nash asked.
    Morgana tilted her head. The anger that had been directed solely at herself shot out of her eyes. “I don’t profit from power.”
    He shrugged, then walked toward her. “I hate to point it out, but she twisted you around her finger.”
    A faint flush crept into her cheeks. If there was anything she hated more than being weak, it was being weak in public. “I’m aware of that.”
    Lifting a hand, he rubbed his thumb over her cheek to wipe away the faint smear of crimson Mrs. Littleton had left there. “I figured witches would be tough.”
    “I have a weak spot for the eccentric and the good-hearted. And you’re not a Sagittarius.”
    He was sorry he had to remove his thumb from her cheek. Her skin was as cool and smooth as milk. “No? What, then?”
    “Gemini.”
    His brow lifted, and he stuck his hand in his pocket. “Good guess.”
    His discomfort made her feel a little better. “I rarely guess. Since you were nice enough not to hurt her feelings, I won’t take out my annoyance on you. Why don’t you come in the back? I’ll brew us some tea.” She laughed when she saw his expression. “All right. I’ll pour us some wine.”
    “Better.”
    He followed her through a door behind the counter into a room that served as storage, office, and kitchenette. Though it was a small area, it didn’t seem overly crowded. Shelves lined two walls and were stacked with boxes, uncrated stock, and books. A curvy cherry desk held a brass lamp shaped like a mermaid, an efficient-looking two-line phone, and a pile of paperwork held in place by a flat-bottomed glass that tossed out color and reflection.
    Beyond that was a child-size refrigerator, a two-burner stove, and a drop-leaf table with two chairs. In thesingle window, pots of herbs were crowded and thriving. He could smell . . . he wasn’t sure what—sage, perhaps, and oregano, with a homey trace of lavender. Whatever it was, it was pleasant.
    Morgana took two clear goblets from a shelf over the sink.
    “Have a seat,” she said. “I can’t give you very much time, but you might as well be comfortable.” She took a long, slim-necked bottle out of the refrigerator and poured a pale golden liquid into the goblets.
    “No label?”
    “It’s my own recipe.” With a smile, she sipped first. “Don’t worry, there’s not a single eye of newt in it.”
    He would have laughed, but the way she studied him over the rim of her glass was making him uneasy.Still, he hated to refuse a challenge. He took a sip. The wine was cool, faintly sweet, and smooth as silk. “Nice.”
    “Thank you.” She took the chair beside him. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to help you or not. But I’m interested in your craft, particularly if you’re going to incorporate mine into it.”
    “You like the movies,” he said, figuring that gave him a head start. He hooked an arm around the back of the chair, scratching Luna absently with his foot as the cat wound around his legs.
    “Among other things. I enjoy the variety