style="font-size:15px;"> “Exactly.” Sophie beamed.
“Well, great. That makes it all better.”
“You make it all better. You see, the women of this family all share the gift.” Grooves formed between her eyebrows. “The gift does impact one’s life, it’s true. Relationships can be very short-term, especially in your case, and that takes maintaining a certain attitude—the ability to let go when the time comes. The empathic nature can be a terrible burden. Seems the most damaged are drawn to us. But the reward…” Bliss lightened her expression. “Well, hopefully you’ll experience it for yourself. The reward is beyond description. It’s priceless to give so selflessly—to change a life or even save one—with the gift.”
“Sophie, you’ve gone on and on, but you haven’t really told me. What exactly is this gift?”
Sophie took a deep breath and faced her niece. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out. It’s the gift of sexual healing, of course.”
SOPHIE WAS NUTS. NIKKI frowned into her rearview mirror as she braked at a stoplight. Sexual healing? Impossible. Ridiculous. Who’d ever heard of such a thing? Sounded like the kind of harebrained excuse her mother might have dreamed up, but how could Sophie buy into it?
Her aunt had been disappointed when Nikki had scoffed at her explanation. Then Nikki had graciously excused herself for her appointment. She was a little early, but for some reason she found the possibility that there might be a small bit of truth to Sophie’s tale most upsetting. Did this mean she was doomed to flit from man to man, following her mother’s rootless path?
God knows, Tess seemed headed that way. Erin was another story, though. Her romantic pursuits had been very low-key up to this point. Yet Sophie had said they’d all inherited the gift. Would they all end up alone in the end?
Exhaling to rid herself of the unsettling feeling, Nikki checked her directions before focusing on the neighborhood around her. The best way to combat this new upset was to concentrate on putting down roots of her own. And this area, Coral Gables, looked like a great place to do just that. She was meeting her agent at the first house they were viewing.
The house was in an established tree-lined neighborhood with wide boulevards and lots of green space. No wonder Coral Gables was called The City Beautiful. Even better, it was a short commute to her clinic and she’d always loved this area. Tess and Erin would, too.
Nikki drove past a curious mixture of colonial-, French-, Dutch- and Chinese-style houses, some with ornate entryways. This area certainly had a flavor all its own. A bicycle path wound alongside the road. She turned onto a quiet side street.
“This must be it. Five-eighty-nine Chestnut Lane,” Nikki murmured to herself as she pulled up in front of a two-story house.
She glanced up and down the quiet street. Ginger Parker, her agent, was nowhere to be seen. Nikki left the engine running. Cool air hissed through the air-conditioning vents as the sun beat down around her car. Shifting forward, she peered at the house.
She liked it immediately.
It had a classic look, with bay windows across the front and wide dormers below the sloped roof. Barrel tile covered the surface and an archway to one side appeared to lead to an inner courtyard. Ferns, palm leaves and deep russet and gold flowers hinted at a garden beyond.
She started at a swift rap on her window. A stranger peered in at her. Blond hair swept back from his furrowed brow. Blue eyes narrowed on her. A myriad of emotions seemed to swirl in their depths, and foreboding swept over her.
Blowing out a breath, she rolled down her window. “Yes, may I help you?”
“You’re Ms. McClellan?” A roughness edged his voice.
It veiled a deeper vulnerability. Though he was a big man—hearty and hale, as Sophie would say—he somehow seemed…not whole, as if he was broken inside. How this revelation came to Nikki, she couldn’t say, other than the usual way she felt things about people.
And what she felt about this man drew an empathic rush from her heart. He carried a deep sorrow. It pressed him down with a crushing weight.
The stranger cleared his throat. She fumbled to remove her sunglasses, warmth fanning across her cheeks. She’d been staring. “Yes, I’m Nikki McClellan.”
“Mrs. Parker phoned to say she’s been delayed. I thought you might like to wait inside.”
“Oh. You’re the owner?”
He nodded briefly, his expression unchanging. “Dylan Cain, at your service.”
She cut the engine. “Thank you, Mr. Cain.”
Though he stepped back, she was all too aware of his solid presence as she exited the vehicle, then turned to fidget with the lock.
“She shouldn’t be long. You can wait in the study or you’re welcome to have a look around.”
She walked beside him, her chin just topping his shoulder. He was tall, over six feet. Her arms tingled as the sheer vitality of him shimmered over her. She caught his spicy scent and her pulse quickened.
“Is this really a courtyard?” Needing to put some distance between them, she veered away from him, nodding toward the archway. A riot of tropical flowers stirred in the slight breeze drifting through the opening.
“I wanted a home that brought the outdoors in. The courtyard and its gardens are a central feature.” He led her into the refreshing coolness of the garden.
Nikki inhaled a sharp breath. Tall palm trees presided over much of the space, adding needed shade. A large fountain stood amid a circular garden in the courtyard’s center. Water splashed and gurgled from an urn held by a laughing mermaid, while her sisters freed a wide-eyed fisherman caught in his own net. Small buds of yellow, red and orange danced all around the fountain’s rim.
The four corners sported smaller gardens, each with its own theme. A kettle wind sock prevailed over what appeared to be a bevy of herbs. Tropical flowers peered between and around huge boulders of varying shapes and sizes on the far side. Another area paid homage to a stand of palms that shaded a cozy hammock, and the last paraded flowers in a rainbow spectrum.
“It’s beautiful.” She turned slowly in a circle, breathing in the sweet floral scent.
“Yes, beautiful.” His tone was dark and fluid.
She faced him. Heat shimmered in his eyes as his gaze traveled over her. Awareness warmed her blood. Framed by the tropical garden, he looked like a predator ready to strike. She took an involuntary step backward.
He straightened and the moment passed. “Every room has a view of the gardens.”
Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy and winked off the floor-to-ceiling windows and wide French doors that must indeed usher the outdoors in.
“This is incredible,” she murmured. “I’m surprised you can bring yourself to part with it.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “It’s time.”
Again a feeling of empathy swamped her. She stilled the impulse to place a comforting hand on
