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  Forcing herself to remain calm, she folded the paper and slipped it into her apron pocket without replying. She picked up her spoon and tried to eat, but the lentil soup tasted like ashes.

  “It’s an opportunity to regain the Remy ring.” Helga reminded her in a soft whisper. “I saw it on his hand when he came to my office.”

  “The ring!” Selma dropped the delicate china bowl in front of Helga. Only the kitchen witch’s deft hand kept the bowl from dumping its contents in her lap. “What? You must tell me!”

  “It’s nothing.” Clare pushed her soup away, her stomach in knots. Her head thundered, her blood pressure likely through the roof. Why would he contact her now? What could he possibly want with her?

  He’s already taken everything from me that I care about.

  “Mr. Michelopoulos requests Clare’s assistance at Remy’s.” Helga managed to make his summons sound much more polite than his actual note. “Evidently he’s worried that the restaurant won’t be able to retain its five-star competition when the inspector arrives.”

  “Yes, yes, but the ring,” Selma insisted. “Does he still have it? Will he give it back?”

  “He doesn’t promise anything in his note, I’m afraid, but I did see it.”

  Selma sat down heavily in the chair opposite them, as though she had no strength remaining in her legs. “I never thought we’d have a chance to get it back. You have to go, Clare.”

  “Mom, I can’t!” Clare hated the tears burning in her eyes as badly as she hated Michelopoulos. “He killed Daddy.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Your father died from cancer that had been developing for years. We just didn’t know it.”

  “Daddy never got sick until he lost the restaurant and his power. What if the cancer spread so rapidly because his power couldn’t keep it in check any longer once he lost the ring? Daddy would still be alive if it wasn’t for that stupid bet.”

  She’d never understood why he would even consider such a risky, foolhardy bet. If he refused to sell Remy’s, why on earth would he consent to the possibility of losing it to his greatest enemy? It just didn’t make sense.

  “If it helps,” Helga said in her gentle voice that she reserved for her sickest patients, “I saw your father myself at least a year before he lost the restaurant.”

  Helga was a powerful kitchen witch, but she was an even more impressive healer. Few wizards could claim more than one talent, which is why she was one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

  “You did?” Clare swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was his wish to not burden his family with his illness. In fact, he made me promise not to tell you that he was dying so he could choose to tell you in his own way. If I’d known that you blamed Mr. Michelopoulos, I would have told you immediately. I can heal many things, dear, but I couldn’t help your father. The cancer was virulent and barely responded to my magic. I delayed the inevitable as long as possible. The restaurant bet was his last gamble to try to protect you.”

  “Too bad he lost.” Selma’s voice cracked with bitterness and anger. “The fool should never have risked his family ring. Clare, you have to get it back.” She softened the edge in her voice, leaning across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “Don’t you want to have a family someday? Fall in love, get married? You can’t as long as we don’t have the Remy ring. You’re the last. If you don’t have children, the Remy talent will die with you anyway.”

  Clare pulled free of her mother’s grasp and stood, moving away from the table. Emotion tore at her chest until she couldn’t breathe. Of course she wanted a family. She didn’t want to be the last Remy, no matter how powerful she might be in the kitchen. But everything she knew about Yiorgos Michelopoulos warned her to stay far, far away from the man.

  Because of the rivalry between their restaurants—so she’d told herself—she’d done her research long before her father’s death, hoping to find the man’s weakness. A billionaire playboy, Michelopoulos’s picture had been splashed on every newspaper and celebrity rag at one time or another. Gorgeous, rich, and charismatic, of course the man was irresistible.

  He discarded women as easily as he bought a new restaurant or hotel, right before he fired everyone regardless of how long they’d been there in order to hire his own staff. Year after year, she’d watched her father accept his plaque for Remy’s starred status, and each year, Michelopoulos had brought a new date to every ceremony. Not just the Missouri awards either—she’d read every article about every reward he’d ever won, and always, a new beauty clung to his arm.

  He was the kind of man who always got want he wanted, used it, and then tossed it in the compost bin on his way to the next conquest. He expected to be sought and lusted after, not just for his money but his looks as well.

  The last kind of man a woman, who must remain a virgin at all cost, should be around.

  Deep down, she couldn’t deny a visceral reaction to the man. Even as a teenager, she’d felt the pull of his magnetism. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she still had a few of those wild and crazy dreams of him stashed away in a corner of her mind.

  Dreams she’d had before her father had died and lost their family ring—and her key to a passionate life—at the same time.

  “Clare,” her mother began in her wheedling voice.

  “I need to speak to Helga,” Clare cut in without turning around. “Privately.”

  “But—”

  “I insist, Mother. It’s wizards’ business.”

  Selma’s loud sniff proclaimed her hurt at the sharp reminder to her lack of status, but Clare refused to regret her mother’s own decisions. Her mother had known exactly what the cost would be if she chose to marry. What she did regret was always feeling like her mother held a grudge against her for losing that power, especially when Clare faced a childless, loveless life herself.

  Helga always managed to strike straight to the heart. “What are you afraid of, dear?”

  She took a moment to gather her thoughts while buttering another piece of crusty rustic bread. “He wants something from me. It has to be some kind of trap, and I don’t like going in blind.”

  “As he says in the letter, he needs your help at Remy’s.”

  Clare turned around, leaning against the counter. “That man would rather cut off his right hand than ask for help. He hates Remy’s. I’m surprised he didn’t shut it down when he won it from Daddy.”

  “The bet wouldn’t allow either restaurant to be shut down.”

  Clare arched a brow at her mentor. “How much about that bet do you know?”

  “Your father was my patient. I knew what he was trying to do, but he swore me to silence.”

  Nibbling on the soft inner crumb, she let her mind run wild. Even now, Helga might be keeping secrets about that blasted bet. If Daddy knew he was dying, and he was trying to protect her, what did he hope to accomplish with a bet that risked not just their livelihood but also their magic? “Do you know what Daddy would’ve won if Remy’s had taken the fifth star that year?”

  “Michelopoulos’s casino hotel and restaurant in Kansas City, as far as I know.”

  Clare frowned. Yeah, the casino was worth a fortune compared to their little family restaurant, but they’d never cared about money or fame before. There has to be something else he was trying to win. But what?

  “The details of the bet aren’t really what you’re concerned about, dear, and we both know it.”

  Her cheeks colored at the chiding note in her mentor’s voice. “Let’s just say Michelopoulos’s reputation precedes him.”

  “And you’re wondering what it would be like if you didn’t have to remain a virgin.”

  Now she might as well have stuck her whole head in the oven. “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  Helga chuckled. “That’s natural, dear. All of us thought about it at one time or another.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Isn’t it? Even as t
he next head of the Remy family, you would be powerless without your virginity until the ring passed to you. I’ve known wizards who lived a decade or more as a mundane until the ring passed to them. And let me tell you, their talent paid the price for those years of inaccessibility. The cost for passion is high, Clare, very high. For all of us.”

  “I know.” She blew out her breath and pushed away from the counter. “Believe me, I’ve heard about nothing else since Daddy died. I just…” Her throat constricted, each word as rough as sandpaper. “I don’t think I’m cut out for chastity the rest of my life.”

  “No one ever said you had to remain chaste forever.”

  “But—”

  “I said the cost was high, yes. But not forbidden.”

  Clare shook her head. “It’s not worth the cost, I get that.”

  Helga stood up and cracked a wooden spoon against her palm sharply, the same way she brought her class to order each day. “Have I taught you nothing at all? Magic comes from within you. There is always a cost, depending on your talent and the spell itself. We know you can cook all day in the kitchen and the only cost you must pay is the sweat of your brow. How do you feel after a few hours in the kitchen?”

  “Tired, but happy.”

  Helga nodded. “Like you’ve gone for a nice, long walk, but not exhausted. Not like a marathon or triathlon.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Now say someone barged into your house this very moment and shot me. You have to heal me. How would you feel performing that kind of magic?”

  The thought made Clare’s stomach clench with dread. “I couldn’t.”

  Helga cracked the spoon against her hand again. “You could. It would hurt terribly. It’d probably take you days, if not weeks, to recover, but if your will was strong enough, you would absolutely bend your kitchen talent into something else. The pain and effort in that bending, the cost to yourself, would empower it. Sacrifice, Clare. The cost you pay enables the magic to be bigger and to work on a talent that you don’t claim as your own if you fully and knowingly embrace the sacrifice.”

  Searching her mentor’s face, Clare nodded slowly, her mind whirling. “So you’re saying some people choose to make the sacrifice of their virginity and their gift for something else, to empower their last magic.”

  Slipping back into her kooky masquerade—for Clare suspected that was exactly why her mentor dressed so wildly—Helga let out a trilling laugh and bounced toward the door. “I’m just saying that for the right man, darling, it might be worth the cost. Good luck and let me know how it goes with Mr. Michelopoulos!”

  Clare collapsed heavily in the chair and dabbed her sweaty cheeks with her apron. Dealing with Helga was sometimes like running the gauntlet. How much worse would it be to deal with an entitled, impossibly arrogant and gorgeous billionaire?

  She closed her eyes and shivered, while trying to deny that a kernel of insanity already burned in a deep secret corner of her heart.

  Other books by Joely Sue Burkhart

  Dare to peek beneath the mask

  JoelySueBurkhart.com

  Current Series and Upcoming Releases

  Zombie Category Romance

  THE ZOMBIE BILLIONAIRE’S VIRGIN WITCH, October 2012

  The Maya Bloodgates, paranormal romance from Carina Press

  BLOODGATE, a free read prequel

  THE BLOODGATE GUARDIAN, June 14, 2010

  THE BLOODGATE WARRIOR, August 6, 2012

  A Jane Austen Space Opera, SF erotic romance (BDSM) from Samhain Publishing

  LADY WYRE’S REGRET, free read prequel

  LADY DOCTOR WYRE, March 29, 2011

  LORD REGRET’S PRICE, tbd

  HER GRACE’S STABLE, tbd

  DEATHRIGHT, tbd

  The Connaghers, contemporary erotic romance (BDSM) from Samhain Publishing

  LETTERS, TAKE ME, LIE TO YOU, free read prequels

  Conn, DEAR SIR, I’M YOURS, June 2009

  Victor, HURT ME SO GOOD, October 2010

  Vicki, YOURS TO TAKE, May 2012

  Mal, MINE TO BREAK, tbd

  Historical Fantasy Erotica (BDSM) based on Imperial China from Carina Press

  GOLDEN, August 29, 2011

  Blood & Shadows, erotic romantic fantasy (BDSM), re-releasing December 2011

  THE HORSE MASTER OF SHANHASSON, free read prequel

  THE ROSE OF SHANHASSON

  THE ROAD TO SHANHASSON

  RETURN TO SHANHASSON

  SURVIVE MY FIRE

  THE FIRE WITHIN, 2012

  GIVEN IN FIRE, tbd