He glanced at her as he took down a second snifter and poured. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see me, you know.”

“Should I? The last time I saw you, you wanted me to give up my house and my career.”

“I asked you no such thing. I asked you if there was anything you wanted to bring here from the house in Japan—hardly a crime. It’s only natural a wife moves in with her husband after the wedding. It’s tradition.”

“Maybe—if we were still living in the dark ages.”

“Admit it.” He put the stopper back in the bottle and looked at her with a flat expression. “That last argument had nothing to do with me. It was all about you and your cold feet.”

Dara bristled, heat blooming in her face. “Well, that’s a high handed conclusion, Mr. Park Jaesang…. Mr. Yang HyunSuk Know-it-all!”

Perhaps some of what he said was true, but not all. Besides, no way was she about to let him guilt her into changing her mind, or in giving up her shop. And she certainly wasn’t going to let that thick accent seduce her again, either. Not this time.

A lock of hair fell free of her chignon and landed against her cheek. Flustered, she reached up to brush it back from her face and her hand jerked short. She looked down, and gaped at what she found. For a moment, all she could do was stare in shock at the slender gold chain binding her wrist. Then her anger piqued, and outrage flared through her.

hat is this?” She glared at Jiyong. “Take this off right now!”

“You know I can’t do that, sweet. Gold spells are unbreakable, and that chain is made of genuine fairy flake. See for yourself.”

She did see. Each individual link in the chain glittered as though it had been dusted in shimmering powder. Thinking back to the candle, the gold flakes in the wax should have set off warning bells. But it hadn’t, and for that she could have kicked herself. She couldn’t say that to him though, because it would only add confirmation to his cause. He’d tell her she’d grown too trusting, that she’d grown soft living among mortals. The old argument would begin again when the truth was she simply hadn’t been looking for a trap—and why should she?

Gold flake. That rat! So she’d been caught by a spell that had to run its course….

“Oh, I suppose you think you’re really clever.”

“If the shoe fits,” he drawled. “Perhaps it will ease your mind to know the magic should only last an hour, give or take, then the chain will turn into dust again.”

“Oh, well, there’s good news,” she blustered, putting a hand on her hip. “In the meantime, I suppose this is your idea of a hot date?”

“Not really,” he said, and then scanned her from head to toe as though he could see right through her cotton bathrobe. “Well, I guess it could be.”