I sat slumped on the couch in the teacher's lounge of Le Fanu International Kindergarten that humid Wednesday afternoon, staring down at a close-up photo of my dad on my phone screen.

It's been almost a couple of months since I left home for a full-time teaching job in the most prestigious private international kindergarten here in Styria and I'm missing Dad and our cosy home so much.

"Gib es her!" A voice that unmistakably belonged to my student, Max, sliced through the wall and pierced my brain like a Ginsu knife. Time for the kids' daily battle over the Lego. I lay down on the couch and placed a throw pillow over my exposed ear, never taking my eyes off my dad.

Peter Hollis, I thought with a faint smile, the man with the biggest heart. Someone should award my father a Humanitarian Nobel Peace Prize or an honorary statue or something already.

Now my dad's over there in Africa—the most otherworldly place on Earth, doing the thing he enjoys the most, living his own dream.

A bittersweet feeling gnawed through me. The thing was, I was happy for Dad. I really was. But I just couldn't bring that happiness to the surface. Not when I was being constantly disturbed by some other things—some fears, I supposed.

I heard about the internal political strife in some African countries and malaria and some crazy local tribes and the killer crocodiles. God, I feared for his well-being. I had recently watched this film The Last King of Scotland and what if Dad got tangled in that sort of terrifying situation?

"No!" The loud screaming of Niklas, another little rascal from an upper grade class, was heard.

"Give it back!" Max fought back.

"Christ, Dad, you have no idea how worried I am," I murmured, tracing my finger over my dad's wide smile. "Could you give me a ring when you're done saving the day? And if it's so hard to give me a ring back, shoot a text, please? Like my Facebook status, poke me, send a smoke signal or something. Just anything to assure me you're okay. Please. Please, please, please."

The first three weeks after I left home were tolerable. Dad and I had been in constant communication while he was warming up back in Vancouver, preparing himself for his dispatch to Africa, getting ready to embark on a mission to save the world. Then he took off and we just lost contact thereafter. For five excruciating weeks—that period of time he'd been in the actual field, our only interaction were five very brief, very indistinct phone calls, and a relatively longer, sweeter one five days ago. And this lack of communication was killing me.

"Stop!" Niklas was yelling back at Max. "Stop! I was playing this first!"

"But it's mine! Give it back!"

"No! Geh weiter! You don't even belong to this class!"

"I don't care. That's my Lego! Gib es her! Gib es her!"

"All right. That's it," I muttered, slipping my feet into my beige pumps again. I leapt off the couch and ran next door into the K-2 classroom.

"Hey!" I hollered from the doorway. "How many times do Mr. Wilson and I have to tell you? No speaking in German in this classroom. Just English, okay? And no more fighting." I stepped further inside and pointed a scolding finger at the boys. "Max, go back to your classroom. And Niklas, I want you to go to that chair in the corner and finish your food quietly. Now!"

The two troublemakers froze in mid-argument, their eyes wide as golf balls.

"And Sophie," I called to the little girl who was yelling at her classmate. "Stop shouting at Léonie or I . . . I won't give you cookies anymore."

The pretty little girl grumbled, turned around, and grudgingly stomped toward her desk. I stifled a smile. She must really love the cookies.

Just then the head teacher, Lola Perry—a very prudish, mysophobic American, rounded the corner of the hallway and frowned at all three of us.

"Boys, no more fighting," she ordered as soon as she stepped inside the room. "And listen to Miss Laura. Finish your lunch now so we can clean up. C'mon!" The boys mutely obeyed. As soon as they trudged past, Miss Perry turned toward me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Well, that outburst wasn't like you, Miss Hollis. What's wrong?"

I raked my fingers into my hair, grasping my forehead tightly. A sharp pain was throbbing inside my skull. "Nothing," I lied. "Everything's fine, Miss Perry." Lola Perry wasn't exactly the perfect person to share all my personal dramas with. I barely even know the lady.

"Are you sure?" Miss Perry asked.

"Yes," I said evenly. Then I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. "I'll just wait for the kids to finish their lunch."

Miss Perry nodded slowly, wiping her hands on the handkerchief she seemed to almost constantly be carrying. "All right."

You're losing it, Hollis, I scolded myself as I walked back to the empty teacher's lounge. I had to get a grip soon; otherwise I'd end up scaring off the schoolkids or accidentally scalding them as I threw stuff around. I certainly had to pull myself together.

If only I didn't have work today I could be in my own bed, reading books, or drowning my psyche in a marathon of Doctor Who. But no. Instead I had to wrangle with these depressing thoughts for an entire eight-hour tutoring-slash-babysitting-slash-wrestling stint. Maybe I should just fake being sick and go back to my apartment.

An ironic smile crept over my face. I knew I'd spent enough time moping around the apartment these past few weeks. Actually, this was one of the good things about my full-time job: It had definitely taken my mind off homesickness. At least for a few hours.

I plopped down on the couch again and put my phone on the table in front of me. I picked up a small bit of chocolate chip cookie from a pack and popped it into my mouth. I hadn't realised that the sky had begun to darken. A few moments after, a clap of thunder shook the windows, startling me a bit. Then a fitful, smattering rain slapped at the panes at irregular intervals. It was mid-June and a showery summer was expected. I leant back against the couch, resting my head on the leather, and let out a heavy breath. As soon as I closed my eyes, my phone went off, the vibration of the call making it dance on the wooden table. My heart skipped in excitement. Must be Dad. Finally.

I leant forward and reached for my mobile phone.

"Hey, Laura!" It was Wilson Kirsch, another co-teacher and fellow Canadian who took a ten-day vacation leave to spend some quality time with his fiancée in Rome.

"Hey," I said a bit lamely, and hoped Kirsch didn't hear the disappointment in my tone. This was too much spunk to take without enough sugar in my own system.

"How's the circus today?" he asked, mirth in his tone.

"Ugh. God, Kirsch. Please come back. You should've seen how many children I had to play tug o' war with! For a second it felt like tug o' war for my sanity. The kids are raising all sorts of hell. Lucky me, I have chocolate chip cookies as bribe," I blurted, glad to finally have a vent. "And Sophie Karnstein—the cheeky little primadonna from your class I've been whining about all week—is seriously in need of a major attitude adjustment. Like, I'm not even kidding, Kirsch," I brought my fingers to the bridge of my nose and squeezed, "Pretty face, wise for her age, sweet tooth, but intolerable personality. I can't wait for this weekend's school carnival to meet her parents and address some issues."

Kirsch laughed. "If you've met her aunt, you'll understand where she got it from."

Six-year-old Sophie Karnstein had a face like a pretty cherub—rosy cheeks, endearing smile, pale skin like a china doll, twinkling dark brown eyes, and shoulder-length black hair with blunt bangs. She might have a sweet-looking face and a weakness for sweets just like me but don't be fooled, Sophie's a little stubborn smartass, going around the school like she's the boss, shoving her "My daddy is a super lawyer" badge in all our faces.

I sank deeper into the couch and smirked. "I take it you and Sophie's aunt don't really see eye to eye."

"Carmilla Karnstein?" Kirsch scoffed. "Christ. You'd have to know her to understand. Total hottie, well-accomplished, filthy rich, but also very dangerous and impossible to deal with. You should've seen her slay a parent whose son once got into a fight with Sophie last year. Hell," he cackled, "she deserves an Oscar for that epic verbal duel. As visually appealing as she may be, I'm just really glad she hasn't showed up in about six months now. I bet she'll get a kick out of torturing you."

"Let's not judge her, though, Kirsch," I said, fiddling absently with the knot of my light yellow sleeveless tie-front blouse. "She sounds like a pretty misunderstood character to me. Perhaps she's just over-protective of her niece. I mean, I'd also turn into a freaking Barbarian just to defend someone I deeply care about."

I heard Kirsch chuckle again. "Typical Laura Hollis. Always ready to believe the best in absolutely anyone," he said. "Honestly, how can you be so smart and yet so naïve?"

"I wouldn't call it naïve. I prefer to think I give people a fair chance."

He snort-laughed. "Right. If you met Lord Voldemort in a deserted alley, you'd probably think he was just out getting a breath of fresh air."

I let out a groan. "You're lucky you and Danny are my favourite couple and I'm one of the bridesmaids in your upcoming wedding or I would've disowned you as a new best friend. You're such a dork."

"Birds of the same feather . . ." he teased. "Anyway, you seriously need to go out more, Lo. You're moving two miles per hour in the dating department. When I get back, we have to find you some nice potential distractions to help cure your homesickness. A wild, passionate summer fling, perhaps?"

"Flings are not exactly my cup of tea, Kirsch. Plus, I'm twenty-four years old—a bit old for games," I replied, reaching back to massage the bunched muscles in my neck. "And how dare you give me relationship advice? You've only been with one girl your entire life."

"Danny Lawrence is not just a girl in my life, Laura," he answered in a serious tone. "She's my life. She's my entire world. I knew the moment I saw her back in freshman high school that she was the one I was going to end up with. Now, look where we are. About to get married in a few months. When you meet The One, why look around, yeah?"

"You're such a sap; it's disgusting," was all I could say, and he laughed at this.

"Someday you'll find that one person who'll turn you into a mushy piece of trash. I swear, you should start going out and meeting new people, Lo. A smart and sweet lady like you, with a sexy body and pretty face walks by, and all men in a twenty-mile radius are reduced to senseless drooling."

"Women," I corrected, brushing a few cookie crumbs off my dark blue knife-pleated skirt. "What could I possibly want with an entire population of peckerheads called 'men'?"

He laughed again, but didn't comment any further. "So . . . I'll be back this weekend just in time for the summer festivities with the kids. Can't wait to kick your butt at the claw arcade machine. Most mushroom plush toys wins."

I allowed a chuckle. It was always so nice to have my tall co-teacher as a cheerleader. He had always been there.

"Hey, Laura?" Kirsch's tone suddenly turned serious.

"Yeah?"

"Did your dad return your calls and messages already?"

The lurking dreadfulness of the day suddenly gathered itself into a tight ball in my stomach. I had a sudden, ominous ache of tears, but I managed to answer casually, "Well, we did talk for like ten minutes while he was at a hospice in Zambia five days ago. But that's about it. It wasn't even a decent one since he was with friends from work. There were so many people in the background and they kept talking to him and I felt like . . . I don't know, like an outsider?" A tear ran down my face and I hastily wiped it.

"Hey, maybe this is a sign that you should get on with your life as well 'cos he obviously is living his life back there," Kirsch explained, his voice sober with concern. "Your life doesn't have to revolve around your dad, Laura."

My lip trembled. "That's the thing. He's the only person that matters to me right now. And I promised mom that I'll take care of him. And now here I am, thousands of miles away from my dad. And what if something bad happens to him and I won't be there?" My voice broke, and a new round of tears streamed down my face. I pulled a piece of napkin from the wooden napkin box on the table in front of me and wiped my tears.

"Yeah, well," he said, in a low sympathetic tone, "listen, Little Lo, I know it's hard. But it's only for another few months."

"A week away from Dad seems like a lifetime." I sniffled, then wiped my nose with a knuckle. "God, sometimes I don't even know why I'm here."

"But you said this is your dream . . ."

"I know, I know," I said, shredding the damp napkin into little bits. "I mean, I don't know. I think this is what I want. It's what I've always wanted. It's what I've been working on for the past few years. But I also need my dad close to me. And I know it's impossible for the two to go together at the moment."

Across the miles, I could practically feel the telepathic hug from my tall friend.

"Laura," Kirsch started sympathetically, "you've done enough wallowing for two months. I think it's time for you to learn how to adapt to this new situation you're in and establish new connections. I'm sure your dad would have wanted you to go out, try new things, and meet new people. You seriously cannot let this homesickness thing put your life on hold. Get on with your life, okay? Look for the right sort of inspiration. Find something or someone to spice up your life."

I buried my face in my hands and groaned. "Dammit, Kirsch. Why can't you be like one of those dudes who just shrug it off and tell me to just suck it up? Why did you always have to be right and say it to my face?"

Kirsch chuckled. "You need someone to be pushy with you, Laura. You are just so stubborn sometimes," he said, then added, "Anyway, I've to go now. Danny needs me. I'll see you soon, Lo."

Before I flipped the cover flap of my phone's leather case over, I caught sight of Dad's wallpaper picture staring at me from the phone screen. "Don't look at me that way, Dad," I said. "I know I promised I will girl the hell up here and not miss you that much, but I really miss your long hugs and watching BBC Specials with you in the living room and listening to your pep talks every morning during breakfast."

Dad's photo gazed back at me silently.

"Okay, if you answer me right now, I promise to go out tonight after the staff meeting and get a life," I said, scrolling for his number, then pressed Call.

I counted to ten.

Then I counted to twenty.

No answer. With an exasperated sigh I tossed my phone into my open tote bag, zipped the bag closed, and headed to the fridge for a tub of vanilla ice cream, hoping those soothing rich frozen spoonfuls of perfection and goodness could wash down this bitterness I had been feeling.

I managed to make it through a couple of Circle Times, table work and a few minutes of free play in the garden with the kids without bursting into tears. Thanks to my other perky co-teachers, Natalie and Elsie, who were so nice to offer to cover for me and suggested that I should get some rest in the teacher's lounge. They probably saw how puffy and red-rimmed my eyes were.

More sugar and a pillow, I thought the second I reached the seclusion of the teacher's lounge again. That's all I want. A tub of ice cream and a big, fluffy pillow to hug.

I didn't even get to the first scoop of ice cream before the tears came.

Two months. It's only been two freaking months, I thought miserably, plopping back down on the couch and burying my face into the pillow. How am I going to make it through one school year?

A knock on the door was heard. A tiny head popped out of the slightly opened door. It was Sophie Karnstein, a look of concern creasing her features.

"Miss Laura, I heard you crying from our room," she said. "Are you okay?"

Instantly I sat up and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm okay, Sophie. Thank you for asking." I offered a weak smile.

The little girl pushed the door wider and took a hesitant step inside the room. "Is it because of us? I'm sorry if we made you upset, Miss Laura." She gaped at me with her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth sheepishly.

"No, sweetie. I just miss my daddy, is all." Then grinning now, I held up an extra spoon and gestured for her to come over. "You want to share this ice cream with me, Sophie?"

"Yes!" she squealed then eagerly dashed toward me and stood in front of me. "Just your daddy? What about your mommy? Do you miss her too?"

"Mommy's in heaven now," I answered, scooping ice cream into a cup for the little girl. "And, yep, I miss her too."

"Well, here's a flower I made for you, Miss Laura." Sophie reached out and handed me a perfectly-folded yellow paper lily that she had been hiding behind her back, making my eyes well up with tears again. I felt a wave of affection toward the little girl and instantly felt guilty. How could I have possibly thought this girl was a little monster when she's probably one of the sweetest people on the planet?

"Next time I'm gonna give you an angel," she continued. "One that looks like your mommy so you won't miss her that much." Sophie's tiny arms suddenly went around me in a comforting hug. "Don't cry anymore, Miss Laura."

I hugged her back and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth. "Aww, that's so sweet and nice of you, Sophie. Thank you." Then when we let go of each other, I held the flower up again and asked with a wide smile, "Who taught you how to make this, sweetheart? It's very pretty."

"Aunt Carmilla," she replied with a proud smile. "She's the best at origami. And she makes the best sushi. And a lot of Japanese stuff, too. That's 'cuz she's stayed in Japan."

"That's nice." I sniffled. "Come sit, dear." I patted the space next to me invitingly.

Sophie happily plopped down beside me on the couch and I handed her her cup of vanilla ice cream. "Do you want me to teach you how to make a paper penguin, Miss Laura? My aunt just showed me how to last night. It's super easy."

"Sure, sweetheart." I opened the topmost drawer of the low cabinet next to the couch and grabbed a pack of art paper.

I watched and tried to follow as the adorable little girl demonstrated the steps, in awe of how skillful she was at such a young age. I noticed how her eyes sparkled at every fold she successfully made, incredibly amazed by how much passion she put into such little things. It made me wonder if her Aunt Carmilla were the same, too. If she were, then I don't think I'll have a problem meeting her too, despite Kirsch's warning.

Suddenly Sophie was laughing uncontrollably so I asked, "Why are you laughing, dear?"

"It's just funny, Miss Laura," she said in between laughter. "Now I'm the teacher and you're my student."

Smiling, I fondly ruffled the little girl's hair. "You sure are clever beyond your years, Sophie. Are you sure you're only six?"

She looked up and grinned. "Aunt Carm tells me the same thing. You should meet her, Miss Laura. I'm sure she'll like you as much as I do."

I drew back and let out a surprised chuckle. "You like me? I thought you hated me, Sophie."

The little girl shook her head and mumbled through the fresh spoon of ice cream in her mouth, "Nope. You're the only teacher I like around here, Miss Laura. I wish you'd teach our class instead of Mister Wilson. Mister Wilson is funny but sometimes he is so annoying and icky." She scrunched her nose. Then she leant close, cupping her hand around her mouth, and whispered in my ear, "And he always farts in class."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud and scoop the adorable girl up onto my lap as I went on laughing. My first real laugh of the day. Gosh, this girl is golden. Can I keep her in my pocket?

A few minutes passed with a lot of giggling and ice cream-eating and listening to Sophie's Super Aunt Carmilla stories as she and I worked on more origami animals when suddenly I heard an unfamiliar voice. A sexy, unfamiliar voice.

"Hey."

I lifted my head and a heart-stoppingly gorgeous woman in the doorway caught my eye and I froze. In fact, "caught" was an understatement—"demanded" was more like it.

With a sexy, amused smirk, the stranger stood in all her breathtaking glory—a white blouse that hugged her curves in all the right places with a few top buttons unfastened leaving a fair portion of her chest in plain view hidden underneath a black blazer, a pair of black pants and black stilettos, gorgeous black hair gently flowing down her back in loose, effortless curls, while a few short locks dangled over her face, and a jaw that looked like it could carve diamonds . . . and she's looking straight at me.

"Aunt Carm!" Sophie hopped off the couch and made a beeline for the gorgeous woman.

"Uh—hi," I stammered, standing up from the couch. My stomach gave a little squeeze. Stay calm, Laura, I ordered myself as I stood there, weak in the knees. No need to get all worked up. She wasn't the hottest girl I'd ever seen or anything. Right.

"I'm here to pick this little munchkin up." At the sound of her voice, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my blood moved quickly south. "My brother Will and his wife are currently out of the country on a business trip."

"Oh." I was hit with monosyllabic lock jaw. "Uh—ah . . ."

But could you blame me? The eyes, the brows, the nose, the mouth, the jaw—everything shifts into perfect balance.

My daydreaming got interrupted by a clearing of throat from the raven-haired beauty who had commenced a sexy trudge toward me and stopped to stand a metre in front of me. Good God, she was even more gorgeous up close. Hotter than anyone I'd ever known. I'd clearly been spending too much time with books and TV shows and Audrey Hepburn fantasies. The second my gaze met hers, my brain cells deserted me again, leaving me high and dry without a single coherent thought I could latch on to.

Crap. Say something, you idiot, I chided myself. Don't just stand there like some drooling stupid dork who can't say two words to someone just because she happens to be an irresistible woman. A dangerously irresistible woman. In ways more than one.

She was now studying my face with slightly curious puckered brows. I still probably looked like a mess from all the crying I did today.

"Right. You're the Super Aunt Carmilla?" was all I was able to say, sounding a little shy and a little breathless.

She smirked. "The one and only. I'm sorry, was my niece bothering you, Miss . . . ?" She extended a hand for me to shake.

Slipping my palm into hers, I felt the sensation of our touch in every nerve in my body. Her fingers were long and tapered, looking like they could weave magic. If I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn her skin was velvet. "Hollis. Laura Hollis," I said, shaking her soft hand. "And no, not at all. Sophie's just teaching me origami and bragging about her Super Aunt Carmilla."

"Oh, she said some really nice things about me, then?" The way she bit her bottom lip and the way her dark brown eyes gazed into mine with intensity made my heart stutter.

"To sum it up: You're apparently the best at everything," I managed to reply.

A slightly smug smirk crossed her red lips as Sophie bounced up next to her. "And you know what they say about kids, 'They could never lie worth a,'" she covered her niece's ears, "'shit.'" She quickly removed her hands and Sophie frowned up at her with a disapproving shake of her head. I couldn't help but laugh, liking the dynamic between the two.

"Miss Laura is my favourite, Aunt Carm," Sophie enthused as she dug her spoon into the ice cream and Carmilla was just looking down at her, all ears. "Even though she's not my real teacher. She gives us cookies and sometimes she sings and sometimes she dances like a Velociraptor," she did the goofy dance, eliciting an amused chuckle from her aunt, "and it's so funny. And she talks about dinosaurs and unicorns and elves and dragons and makes us draw our dreams. And she makes us solve puzzles and riddles . . ."

My eyes were just glued to the two, captivated. Sophie looked every inch of a mini Carmilla. They both have the same hair colour, eye colour, perfectly sculpted jawline, smooth pale skin, and they have the same wicked, spellbinding glint in their eyes that could charm virtually anyone. It's freaky and frightening, in a way. But definitely fascinating.

"And she's so pretty, too," Sophie went on, mumbling through a spoonful of ice cream. "Don't you think Miss Laura is pretty, Aunt Carm?" She looked up at her aunt expectantly.

Carmilla's gaze shifted to my face. "Yeah," she murmured pensively, "Miss Laura is pretty, munchkin. Very pretty." And Sophie beamed, pleased with her aunt's answer.

Blushing furiously, I gave a laugh and rolled my eyes, pointedly ignoring the shiver that had gone through me.

Putting her hands into the pockets of her blazer, Carmilla regarded me with a knee-weakening little grin. "Sophie must really like you if she calls you her 'favourite.'"

My brow quirked up. "Is that right?"

"Yes," she said. "The last person she called her favourite was my ex-girlfriend."

I stared at her, my mouth open. "Oh."

"Sounds very promising, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," I managed to answer. "If facing a certain inevitable doom is your twisted definition of the word 'promising,' that is."

Good thing Carmilla's phone started ringing as this allowed me to release a breath I didn't realise I was holding in.

When Carmilla took out her iPhone from a pocket of her blazer and excused herself to talk to her 'nerdy ginger chef' friend for a short while, I took this opportunity to feast on the brunette again. Her face was smooth, almost begging for me to stroke a hand along her cheek. Also, she had curves in all the right places. My God. Is she even real?

As I stood rooted to the spot like a post during Carmilla's brief phone conversation, I suddenly became aware of the gorgeous woman's smell—sweet shampoo and something else, some deeply sexy lotion that smells like cinnamon. I felt the tingling inside my stomach spread like fire through my chest and up my face.

"So . . ." Carmilla inched closer and pocketed her phone again. "I haven't seen you before, Miss Hollis."

"Yes, I, uh, I just started about a couple of months ago," I replied, and hoped she couldn't see my chest heaving because my heart was tap-dancing like a demented squirrel.

"I used to always fetch Sophie from school every day but an opportunity came up and I had to move to Tokyo. Had I been informed that there's an impossibly cute new teacher, I would've flown back earlier."

I let out a laugh again, desperately fighting back the blush that had been threatening to cover my cheeks. Good God, this cannot get any more embarrassing.

"If I may ask," I said, "what do you do, Miss Karnstein?"

The woman smirked and raised an eyebrow. "That's a little personal, Miss Hollis, but since you asked politely . . . When I'm not posing in front of cameras, I run a chain of Japanese restaurants and pick my niece up from school. In other words, model-slash-chef-slash-restaurateur-slash-babysitter. We actually just opened a branch downtown. You should check it out if you want to experience the best damn sushi on the planet . . ." I stood there, just letting the low rhythms of Carmilla's voice take me into a little daydream. ". . . my own recipes. Once you've tasted my sushi, I'm certain you'll be asking for seconds and thirds and maybe more."

"Mmm . . . I love sushi," I heard myself sighing and found my eyes resting on Carmilla's kissable lips before returning them back to her eyes, only to find the dark brown orbs staring at my own lips.

A long, heated moment passed before Carmilla looked away and chuckled at the sight of her niece. Ice cream was all over Sophie's face.

"Oh munchkin, look at your face!" She crouched down on her knees and chuckled some more.

I offered the wooden napkin box to Carmilla. She gratefully took a couple of pieces and started wiping the ice cream off of Sophie's face. Her phone was buzzing wildly in her blazer pocket again but Carmilla didn't pay attention to it. Her focus was entirely on her niece. "Such a messy eater, you. Your mommy's going to get mad at me, Soph. She'll think I'm spoiling you again." She gave the little girl's chin a final wipe and then leant forward to kiss her cheek gently.

"She does have a mind-boggling sweet tooth," I commented, refilling my own cup with ice cream. "And this judgment is coming from another big fan of desserts."

Carmilla smirked proudly. "That's good, then," she said, watching as her niece scooped up some ice cream. "She's showing she clearly is a Karnstein with the sugar devotion, and even better still she takes after me in practically every way, much to my brother's annoyance."

I shook my head, chuckling, as I took a huge spoonful of ice cream. "Your niece is going to be dangerous one of these days, Miss Karnstein."

Carmilla's smirk turned wicked as she looked over her shoulder at me. "Oh, trust me, she is dangerous now."

"Aunt Carm, want some?" Sophie said in her cute voice, offering a spoonful to her aunt.

Carmilla leant in and only took a small bite and grinned. "It's yummy. Thank you, munchkin." Sophie giggled and began to stuff her face with ice cream again.

"You two seem super close. It's so cute and amusing, I can't take my eyes off you two," I commented, probably looking at the two with heart eyes, as I went on eating. "It's rare to meet a filial person, especially a . . ." I gestured toward Carmilla, "badass-looking one like you."

Carmilla straightened up. "And I should say I'm impressed with you, Miss Hollis," Closing our gap again, she traced the line of my lips with her eyes while biting down on her bottom lip—at that, the rumbling began in my veins—"I mean, you deal with all of these little rascals five days a week. And yet there's not a single wrinkle on your pretty face." Her gaze roamed over my jawline then down to the hollow where my collarbones meet and it lingered there. "God, you really are beautiful . . ."

Her words and the sexy lip-biting thing she did sent electric shock waves jolting through me, settling deep in my belly. I couldn't help thinking Carmilla Karnstein was an expert at this sort of flirty banter. I had to admit there was something flattering about her attention.

"And a messy eater, as well . . ." She lifted one hand and brushed the backs of her fingers over my chin. It was the merest feather of a touch, but it seared like flame, and I felt my breath catch in my throat, as if my body had forgotten how to go about the process of breathing.

Carmilla pulled her hand back and gazed at her fingers. And her actions meant that she'd felt it too. My breath came back in a rush that would have been a loud gasp if I had not been able to muffle it.

"You are perfect," she said, her gaze meeting mine again.

Three words, two curved lips and bam, I was teetering on the edge of Lake Lusting.

To hide my flushed face, I slapped myself on the forehead and turned my gaze away. "Oh God. I feel so rude," I exclaimed, awkwardly moving across the room toward the coffee maker. "You've been in this room for about half an hour already and I haven't offered you a drink yet. Would you like some coffee or tea, Miss Karnstein?" I gestured for her to sit down. "And please, have a seat."

"Coffee will do, thanks," Carmilla said, taking a seat on the couch, her eyes twinkling in amusement as she continued to watch me from across the room. "And please, just call me Carmilla."

"It's just really surprising seeing the way you are with Sophie." The words just tumbled out of my lips as I filled a cup with brewed coffee. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark-haired woman still watching me and I could feel her gaze burning me. I straightened up, tightening my fingers around the small spoon as I stirred the coffee because I was afraid they would shake. "You remind me of a croissant. Rough on the outside, but a big softie on the inside."

"Nice analogy." Carmilla let out a sexy chuckle.

I bit down on my lip. I would rather have been just about anywhere else. It was the only way I could avoid looking at Carmilla like a thirsty piece of trash. But I knew she was there, right across the room, and I knew she was as aware of me as I was of her. Aware and just being so goddamn irresistible.

"You have some sort of magical powers with kids," I went on. "I can just feel it. How I wish they listened to me like that. I have to resort to bribing them with cookies or chasing them until I'm about to pass out." I went back over to the couch and handed the dark-haired beauty her drink. "Here's your coffee."

Carmilla's brow furrowed, as she brought the cup to her lips. "Funny, I just saw you earlier making origami with Soph. You seemed like a natural, Miss Hollis."

"I love playing with them, not herding," I snorted, and the raven-haired woman laughed again. "Oh, and here you go." Sitting down next to the laughing woman on the couch, I offered my pack of chocolate chip cookies. She took a piece. I took a handful.

As her laughter subsided, I saw a strange twinkle in Carmilla's narrowed eyes that effortlessly set my pulse off in a mad race once more. While silently nibbling cookies, I sneaked a glance at her from beneath my lashes, then looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her gaze traveling slowly downward as she elegantly sipped her coffee. Suddenly I was acutely aware of the short skirt I was wearing. I grabbed instinctively at the hem of my skirt and yanked it down with both hands.

I had the strange sensation of being totally exposed—and not just because of how I was dressed. It was as if Carmilla was seeing some part of me that nobody else could see, a part I barely knew was there. Something in her expression—something I didn't understand but that I sensed in my gut, or maybe in my heart—told me that she understood things I could only guess.

And just as I was about to believe the two of us had made this incredible, unique connection, Carmilla abruptly picked something up from my lap and gave it to me. It was a large bit of cookie that obviously fell from my grip while I was fidgeting. "Here. I'm not sure if you're a five-second rule supporter or . . ." Gingerly, she placed one warm hand on my lap and brushed the crumbs off my skirt.

"Thanks," I finally managed, hoarsely, popping the cookie into my mouth. "I'll take baked treats anyway that I can have them." I let out a nervous chuckle.

"Why are you so tense?" Carmilla asked, her hand gliding downward and stopping on my knee. She gave it a soft squeeze.

My mouth had gone bone-dry as I grew dense with desire. "What?"

She set her cup down on the saucer on the table. "You're looking at me like I'm the 'scourge of the town' and you're the shy little local girl. Like how the good girls used to look at bad boys—half-scared, half-fascinated—and would chase after them in the end."

I cocked an eyebrow, ignoring how I was reeling with the fascination of touch as if it were a new sense. "You think I would chase after you?"

"I don't just think, I know."

"Huh."

Biting her bottom lip, Carmilla then took a piece of pink art paper and began folding. It quickly transformed into a paper heart. She grabbed a Sharpie and started scribbling numbers on one side of the paper heart. "If I offer you my phone number, would you keep it or just throw it away?" Gently placing her hand on my knee again, she held up the origami heart in front of me with challenging raised brows. "I have a pack of business cards but I prefer to do it the cheesy way. So?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and blushed some more as I stared at the paper heart that was dangling from her fingers, numbers scrawled across it. "You're unbelievable," I grumbled, and took it from her.

A triumphant smirk tugged the corners of her mouth. "I guessed right," she said, removing her hand from my knee and I instantly missed the feeling of her touch. "So I was wondering . . . do you have any plans tonight, Miss Hollis? I propose the three of us have dinner together. I'll have a special table reserved at the restaurant."

As Carmilla picked up her cup of coffee again, she had a wicked smile dancing on her lips and a penetrating glint in her dark brown eyes, and I realised that I was crossing a dangerous territory. My stomach tightened.

"That proposal sounds really tempting, Carmilla, but we have an important staff meeting in less than an hour, what with the school carnival in three days. It's just a crazy week and we—"

"It's okay. I totally understand." The brunette finished her coffee and elegantly placed the cup down on the saucer then on the table.

My hands were gesturing wildly as I tried to explain some more. "It's just that I'm in charge of the floor plan of the carnival games and booths and I have to give a report to the fair committee and I can't just—"

Carmilla raised a hand and cut me off. "It's okay, Miss Hollis. No need to explain."

I shifted on the couch to face her completely. "I just don't want you to think that I'm turning you down because I'd really, really love to join you guys and—"

With a husky chuckle, Carmilla reached out a hand, laying a light touch on my arm. "It's fine," she said, smiling. "Really, Miss Hollis. Don't stress about it." She stood up and adjusted her blazer.

For a split second I thought of faking being sick and just pull a no-show for the scheduled meeting later, but I stopped the sloppy thought right away. What were you thinking, Hollis? Responsibilities are responsibilities. I mentally slapped myself and only hoped Carmilla wasn't the type who gives up very easily.

"Rain check?" I said with a hopeful little grin, pushing myself off the couch. "I'd love to try the best sushi on the planet."

She turned to me and smiled. "Sure."

Sophie tugged at my hand. "Miss Laura, may I have more ice cream, please?"

Carmilla was the one who answered, taking the cup from the little girl's hands. "No, you may not, munchkin. That's enough." She turned to me and handed me the empty cup. "Well, I guess it's time for us to go before Sophie gets a sugar high. Trust me, it's going to be a series of unfortunate events when she does," she said, eliciting a laugh from me. "Anyway, it was a real pleasure meeting you, Miss Hollis." With another gorgeous smile, Carmilla held out her hand again for a shake.

"Please, just call me Laura," I said, returning the smile and took her hand to shake but instead she lifted it to press a soft, lingering kiss on the back of my hand. Suddenly there was a butterfly farm in my tummy.

"Thanks for being perfect, Laura." Carmilla released my hand to gently grab Sophie's hand. "Come, munchkin. Time to go. Say bye bye to Miss Laura now."

Sophie waved sweetly at me as her aunt steered her to the door. "Bye bye, Miss Laura! See you tomorrow!"

I waved back with a big grin. "Bye, Sophie!"

"Hope to see more of you, Laura." Carmilla had her hand on the knob as she turned her body to look at me as if she were trying to get a fill of me.

I could only respond with a smile.

"And oh, cupcake?" the dark-haired woman said as she opened the door.

"Yes?" I wondered how I managed to stay upright because the new nickname she just threw my way weakened my legs.

"I'm a Karnstein and by gene selection, not much good at this sort of thing," Carmilla said. "But whatever it is that's bogging you down, you'll get through it." She embellished those words with a wink before disappearing through the door with her niece.

The door closed gently behind them and I stared at it. After a short while, I took one step backward, then another, then plopped back down on the couch and stared at the pile of origami animals on the table. Turning to the side, I stared out the window and saw the dark-haired Karnstein pair playfully skipping puddles of rainwater on the parking lot. I hugged a pillow.

With a sigh, I picked up the floor plan I had designed for the weekend school event, wondering how I was going to start reviewing it when my body was humming in private places and my mind was filled with erotic thoughts of one Carmilla Karnstein. Crap.

The sound of their loud giggling could be heard and I found myself getting up, bringing the pillow with me, and moving to the window—just gravitating toward them. I watched in silent amusement as the two playfully tickled each other inside Carmilla's car, which was wow. That was one hella expensive sleek black Jaguar.

Another shared laughter between the two as Carmilla made faces at her niece then started the car.

I smiled faintly. I knew I wanted to spend more time with Carmilla and get to know her more. There was something infinitely appealing about the woman.

And seeing her with Sophie just made something click. I hugged the pillow tighter to my chest. I wanted to be part of that.

That was how the idea began.

I counted to ten.

Then I counted to twenty.

Another fit of giggles from the two was heard. A wide smile crept across my face as I looked down at the pink paper heart in my hand. Quickly I scurried back to the table to get my phone from my bag, typed the digits in, and pressed Call.

"Hey, Carmilla. On second thought . . . do you think there'd be enough sushi for me there?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, as I listened to the brunette's sexy laughter. I didn't like breaking rules and wasn't used to change and had always stayed on course and I really didn't want to make up stories for selfish reasons or make it seem like I'm an irresponsible, unprofessional adult. But what could I do? It wasn't like I had the strength to resist Carmilla Karnstein's charm. Besides, the last thing I needed in my life right now was more what ifs.

So I'd go. I'd probably hate myself for taking this risk, but I'd go. Chasing after Carmilla Karnstein might be an unusual, scary getaway in a whole new world. It could be an open-ended journey or it might end in a certain inevitable doom. Sounds terrifying? You bet. Yet despite that, or maybe even because of that, I found myself beginning to smile.