Ms. Baginski was finishing up.

“Those are my wishes and I will them to be done. And just a warning, if they’re not, I’ll know and it’ll make me very upset. I know neither of you want that. Now, be blissfully happy my Josie and my Jake. That is my final, most important wish. Please do what you can to give that to me.”

Terry Baginski quit reading and looked at us.

“Did Lydie give me you in her will?”

This came from my side and it was no less rumbling or amused. In fact, it was far more rumbling and amused, and slowly, my breath coming in fits and starts, my head turned his way.

Yes, he was amused. I knew this because he was smiling a large smile, his even, strong white teeth stark against his dark stubble.

My stomach again twisted in knots.

“Obviously, the bequeathal of a human being isn’t binding,” Ms. Baginski put in and I thankfully tore my gaze from Mr. Spear and looked to her. “This bestowal, however,” she continued, “is also in the legal document. Regardless if it isn’t binding, the rest of it is.”

She picked up a legal-sized manila folder and plopped it across the desk my way.

“Copies of Mrs. Malone’s official last will and testament,” she carried on, pointing at the folder. “The letter I’ve just read, and information about deeds and the like are in that folder. Should you not desire to join us here in Magdalene, there’s also contact information for Stone Incorporated, a firm that has approached Mrs. Malone in the past to share they’re interested in purchasing Lavender House.”

What did she say?

Someone had approached Gran to buy Lavender House?

Gran hadn’t told me that either!

“That folder is yours to take,” she announced, her eyes on me, and she stood but did it leaning forward, hands on her desk. “Now, if there aren’t any questions…” she rudely uttered a thinly veiled prompt for us to stop wasting her time.

I had a million questions, of course, none of which I spoke because I didn’t act fast enough.

“Paper isn’t legally binding but blood is,” Mr. Spear declared and I looked his way to see he was addressing Terry Baginski.

“I’m sorry?” Ms. Baginski asked.

“Words on paper might not be legally binding.” His gaze came to me and his voice deepened as he concluded, “But blood is.”

I found my chest rising and falling rapidly as he held my eyes and the meaning of his words assaulted my ears.

“You can hardly think you can own a woman, Jake,” Ms. Baginski snapped dismissively.

“Own her, no,” Mr. Spear stated, his eyes still holding mine captive. “Do precisely what Lydie wanted me to do with her, yes.”

Oh my God.

The way he said those words sounded suggestive.

Very suggestive.

My breathing grew even more rapid and additionally it became erratic. I decided to ignore the suggestive part of his words and focus on something else.

“Gran was…she was…” I searched for a word and found it. “Protective of me.”

“I’m gettin’ that seein’ as she left me you in her will in order to keep that shit goin’ on,” he replied and my back again went straight.

“I’m quite capable of seeing to that myself,” I informed him.

Something shifted through his features so swiftly I couldn’t catch the meaning of it before he whispered, “Not from what I hear.”

At that, I felt my eyes get big.

“What has Gran told you?” I inquired sharply.

“With respect, could I ask that perhaps you two continue this conversation elsewhere?” Ms. Baginski requested. “I actually do have other business to see to today.”

I thought that was an excellent idea. Not continuing the conversation. I was quite done with this conversation. Instead, I wanted to get myself elsewhere.

Therefore, I jumped to my feet and sensed Mr. Spear rising to his. But I didn’t sense his hand coming my way as if to spot me should I tumble.

I saw it.

When I did, my eyes slashed his way. “I’m adept at rising from a chair, Mr. Spear,” I snapped.

“Just bein’ careful,” he muttered, studying me and doing it grinning.

Albeit attractive—his voice and his grin—I found both annoying.

I didn’t share that.

I looked from him to Ms. Baginski. “Is there something I need to do in order to get the funds my grandmother wished to be put in trust for Mr. Spear’s children to Mr. Spear?” I asked, hoping there wasn’t as I intended to leave that office and Mr. Spear behind and never see either again.

Terry Baginski shook her head. “No. Mrs. Malone has already made those arrangements. This office will take care of that money transfer.” Her eyes went to Mr. Spear and she warned, “And Jake, you’ll need to report this gift to the IRS.”

“No shit?” he asked and it occurred to me in a vague way that they seemed to know each other and not get along.

Or, at least, Ms. Baginski didn’t like Mr. Spear all that much.

This didn’t concern me.

Escape concerned me. That as well as dealing with Gran’s estate and getting to Rome (or Paris) as soon as I could.

In order to see to these things without delay, I secured my handbag on my shoulder, reached out and took the manila folder, saying, “If that’s in order, I’ll thank you for your time and be on my way.” I looked up to Mr. Spear. “Although Gran didn’t mention you, it’s clear she held a high regard for you and your children.”

He didn’t let me finish. He butted in to say (still grinning, I might add, and the way he said it sounded almost teasing), “Yeah, Josie. She held us in high regard.”

“Well then, that being so, it was a pleasure to meet you.” I took my eyes from him, sliced them through Ms. Baginski and finished, “Now, I’ll leave you both to your business. Good day.”

After delivering that, carefully putting one foot in front of the other but doing it quickly, I exited the room.

I did this with Mr. Spear calling, “Hang on, Josie.”

I most certainly didn’t “hang on.” I kept going. Swiftly.

His voice was much closer to my back when I was in the hall and he said, “Whoa, woman. Hang on a second.”

I kept going but spoke to the reception area I’d just entered. “I don’t mean to be rude but I have business to see to and quickly as it’s important I get to Rome.”

“Rome?” he asked when I had my hand on the front door.

I tipped my eyes up to him. “Rome,” I stated, pushed open the door and exited it, moving speedily toward my rental car.

He did not call to me again but I knew I hadn’t lost him and this became glaringly apparent when he caught me by my upper arm right when I’d made it to my car.

He pulled me around to face him.

“Josie, give me a second,” he said quietly.

I looked up to him again. “Of course, Mr. Spear, but not to be rude, I have only a second.”

“Jake,” he replied.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Name’s Jake,” he said.

“Fine,” I returned then prompted, “You wanted a second?”

He didn’t take his hand off me as his eyes moved over my face in a way that it felt like he was studying me.

And that was when I saw what was unusual about those eyes.

Because in the office, they were a clear light gray.

Out in the sun, they were a clear ice blue.

Extraordinary, intriguing and striking.

Blast!

“Mr. Spear…” I prompted yet again and felt his fingers curl deeper into my arm even as he pulled me a half an inch closer.

“Jake,” he murmured.

“Are you detaining me because you want me to address you by your Christian name?” I queried.

His extraordinary, intriguing and striking eyes focused on mine. “Do you talk like that all the time?” he queried in return.

“Like what?”

“Nothin’,” he muttered, his lips quirking again. Then he jerked his head toward the building we just left and reminded me, “Somethin’ big happened in there.”

“Indeed,” I agreed then went on and did so being purposefully obtuse. “And if you’re concerned I’ll take issue with the gifts my grandmother bestowed on your children, please don’t be. I know Gran was of very sound mind to the end of her days so if she wished your children to have that money, then that wish will be done.”

“That was a beautiful thing Lydie did,” he replied. “But I’m not talkin’ about that. I’m talkin’ about the other gift she bestowed on me.”

“And that would be?” I asked, still being obtuse.

“Josie.” My name shook with his amusement and it was annoying because the way it did sounded lovely. “She gave me you.”

I ignored that and the way it made my stomach twist and my breath come uneven and informed him, “No one calls me Josie.”

“Lydie did,” he contradicted.

Oh yes.

Gran definitely talked to him about me.

I did not like that.

“All right, then no one calls me Josie but Gran,” I shared.

“And now me.”

I drew in a breath, this reminded me his hand was on me so I requested, “Will you unhand me?”

His lips twisted in an unsuccessful endeavor at hiding his humor before he replied, “I will unhand you, but only if you promise not to take off.”

“I can promise that,” I told him.

“Right,” he murmured and let me go but he didn’t step away.

I decided not to do so either as it might communicate the wrong things and I felt it imperative to communicate quite clearly with James Markham Spear in the very short time I would be communicating anything to him.

“Tonight, we need to go to dinner,” he declared.