Drive Me Wild by Christine Warren

by sleeping with another woman just days after she’d promised her heart to him. The curse she laid on him that his progeny would grow fewer and fewer in number with every passing generation until they died out of this world, unless one man of his blood could find true love and remain faithful to her for a year and a day. That’s a hell of a story.”
    “And that’s all it is. A story. With no basis in fact and no evidence supporting the idea that it ever happened. Remember that.”
    “Who are you reminding, Rafe? Me? Or yourself?”
    He shot his friend another scowl and stalked toward the kitchen. He entered through the swinging door to see Missy and Tess seated at the island counter looking at what appeared to be tarot cards. His eyebrows shot up as surprise momentarily took precedence over his annoyance. “What are you two doing?”
    Tess jumped at the sound of his voice, her hand jerking awkwardly, the deck of cards striking the edge of the counter. She cried out as the cards scattered, landing all over the sprung-wood floor.
    “You’re a little jumpy,” Graham observed, stepping into the kitchen behind Rafe and quirking an eyebrow. “Something the matter?”
    Tess blushed and quickly shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m just tired. It’s late. I’ll just pick these up and go.”
    Rafe bent down to help her retrieve the cards, scooping up a handful where they lay facedown on the floorboards. “You read tarot cards?”
    “I used to,” she muttered, snatching the cards out of his hand and shoving them into a little velvet bag the color of burgundy wine.
    He looked at her, trying to puzzle out what she meant by that. Obviously, if she’d just been reading for Missy when he and Graham had walked in, used to had to be a fairly new development. He picked up another handful of cards and handed them to her.
    “Well, at least they all seem to have landed facedown,” he pointed out, trying to think of something to say that would calm her. When he saw his innocent observation make her stiffen, he realized he hadn’t found it. “I mean, so you don’t have to spend all that time flipping them over. That would be a pain.”
    “Right,” she muttered, her eyes scanning the floor with frantic, darting glances. “A pain.”
    Rafe gave her a puzzled glance, then shrugged, handing her a third pile of cards. He looked around to see if they’d gotten them all and spied one stray card. It must have fallen straight down the side of the counter without getting caught in any of the air currents that had sent the other cards scattering. Instead of falling facedown on the floor, this card had slid down the side of the island and gotten lodged upright in the tiny crack between the top of the baseboard molding and the side of the island. It stood up straight and colorful against the white wooden background.
    “Looks like I spoke too soon.” Rafe looked down at the full-color illustration with interest.
    Poised on the edge of a cliff, ready to tumble straight over the edge and into the unknown, the figure on the card seemed at once jaunty and pathetic, totally unaware that he was about to leap into a situation that could easily spell his doom.
    “That’s an interesting image.” He leaned down for a closer look. “A little unnerving, perhaps, but intriguing all the same. The baseboard is covering the caption, though. What is it called?”
    When he got no answer, he turned his head to look up at Tess. She was staring down at the card in front of him with an absolutely stricken look on her face. Her skin was pale, her blue eyes were wide and dilated, and her lips had parted on a strangled gasp.
    “That,” she said, after a long pause and a couple of silent false starts, “is the Fool.”
    *   *   *
    Tess stared at the last card in the deck and thought she heard the faint echo of Fate laughing at her in the background. More than anything in the world, she wanted to deny her suspicions and tell