Lily Wharton whipped her head around.

Recognition flashed through her, hot and sharp, at the sight of that hard, handsome face. Declan Gates.

She fought a mad urge to laugh. She might have known Declan would skip over all pleasantries and cut right to the point.

"I'm pruning the roses. As you can see, they're a little overgrown." She gestured at the head-high tangle of thorns around them. She'd been so immersed in trying to tame the old rose garden that she hadn't even heard his car.

"That doesn't explain what you're doing here, on the grounds of my house." His aggressive gaze made her skin prickle.

His strong jaw, proud nose and high cheekbones had changed little in ten years, but this new Declan wore a tailored suit, his jet hair slicked back. His broad shoulders and solid chest hinted at hard muscle beneath his fine clothing.

Fierce excitement swelled in her chest. He'd come back. "I've been trying to contact you for months. I was sorry to hear about your mother's death."

One black brow lifted.

Lily colored slightly at the knowledge that he'd caught her in a lie. The town of Blackrock, Maine, had heaved a collective sigh of relief when the witch on the hill had finally passed.

"I don't know how many messages I left for you. Your office told me you were in Asia, but you didn't return my calls. I couldn't bear to see the house left empty and forgotten."

"Ah, yes. I'd almost forgotten that it was your family's ancestral home."

His pale eyes shimmered in the sun, sparking a trail of memories. She'd fought so hard not to fall under his spell all those years ago, when the unspoken hatred between their families m