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Baxter hums periodically, but when he sings, it’s pure magic. As though he’s the blood-bender, the sound of his voice pulls me to him with an unseen force. I stiffen at the impulse and dig in my heels. The second Baxter knows I’m there, he’ll stop, and I’ll miss out on something extraordinary.

I lose track of time while I watch him. He’s mesmerizing, every note perfection. His mouth forms each word with articulation that I can feel in my soul. This man has an astuteness to him that’s different from the rest. Something I doubt that he’s aware of.

The song comes to an end. I stand there, hesitating on whether or not to make my presence known. Baxter won’t appreciate me spying on him, and he certainly won’t be happy that I’ve interrupted his privacy. With those thoughts in mind, I spin on my heel, ready to keep his secret to myself. I can get my answers later today.

“Did you enjoy yourself, princess?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and steel myself to face him. And his ire. After taking a deep breath, I turn around and walk to where he sits.

“Good morning. This place is lovely.”

“It used to be serene as well.” Baxter gives me a pointed look, and I force myself to hold his stare. When I don’t cower, he stands and reaches a hand to stroke the petal of a rose. “It will be again.”

“You’re always welcome here, Baxter.”

The feminine voice has my eyes widening. “The flowers speak too?” I ask, staring at the red rose. Unlike the ones in my fractured memories, this bloom isn’t painted.

Baxter looks at me with amusement dancing in his green eyes, the hue enhanced by the foliage surrounding him. “Did you think they could only sing but not talk? Silly, princess.”

I shrug.

“Who is she, Baxter?” This from the red rose again. “A guest? A friend? Or a lover?”

His gaze bores into mine at the inquiry. I concentrate on his blood to assess him. It’s flowing steadily, straight to his cock. My body tingles in response to his growing arousal.

“She is none of those things to me,” he says.

I nearly wince at the clipped answer. “I beg to differ.” His brows snap together, and I wave a hand, maintaining a nonchalance I don’t completely feel. “I’m an unwanted guest, but a guest nonetheless.”

His mouth tilts up at the corner in a smirk. “I stand corrected.”

“Is she a weed?” asks a daisy.

“Not exactly.” Baxter shakes his head and chuckles. “You don’t need to worry. She won’t hurt you.”

“But I am a threat of some kind,” I say. “Isn’t that right?”

The man’s lips thin, all amusement from a moment ago vanishing. “What are you getting at?”

“When it comes to the past, I’m a reminder of what pains you. Isn’t that right?”

I crane my neck to hold his gaze as he towers over me. “Be careful, princess.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Get out.”

I step closer. My breasts graze his torso, and Baxter’s nostrils flare. His blood roars in my ears, tempting me to tame it.

“I’ll leave when you tell me what I’ve done to you,” I say.

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do.” I take his hand in mine, surprised that he doesn’t pull away. “I felt how much you meant to me in my memory, yet now you can’t stand the sight of me. Please tell me why.”

He remains silent until the weight of it presses down on me. Even the flowers close their petals and hide. The greenhouse, already humid and warm, becomes stifling. What was heaven on earth a moment ago is now hell.

“What will you do, once you know?” Baxter asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “What could you possibly hope to gain?”