9

“I lured you? How is that possible when I’m the one who has

joined you on your day’s plans? It seems, Dylan Locke, that you may

have lured me.”

Her expression was so convincing, I momentarily doubted myself.

“No, no. I most definitely didn’t lure you. You lured me with your talk

of fate and finding out what it had to do with us.”

“Kismet,” she corrected.

“Yes, that’s right. Kismet. You dangled the word out in front of me

the way a fisherman dangles a—”

“Hook?” she guessed.

I narrowed my eyes. “Lure.”

Her smile widened. “That’s amazing that a simple text message

could hold that much power over you. Why do you think that is, do

you suppose?”

And that was the real question, more important than why she was

here. The question about why I was tempting myself with something

I was never going to believe in. About why her particular lure was so

irresistible. The question I’d hoped she’d be able to answer because

I was at a loss.

A question that wasn’t getting answered now either because the

es