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actually found your true love. Your soul mate is out there, Naomi, just waiting for you to find him.”
    Lord, I hoped not.
    However, a wave of trepidation washed over me as Royce’s perfectly chiseled face filled my mind. I quickly brushed the sensation—and the image—aside. I didn’t believe in soul mates. Not anymore. My mom had thought my real dad was her soul mate the entire ten years they’d been married. That’s why she took him back every time he hit her. Every time he cheated on her. Still, I couldn’t deny that when I’d fallen into Royce’s arms, the contact had been electric; something I’d never experienced before. Not even with my ex.
    But that didn’t mean Royce was my soul mate.
    “So, when do you see the delectable Mr. Powell again?” Kera asked.
    I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, trying to act casual. “Tomorrow.” Oh, God. Tomorrow. I gulped. I wasn’t sure I would survive our next meeting.
    Mel nibbled on the edge of her bagel. “Mmm, I’ll want all the delectable details, of course.”
    With the word delectable ringing in my mind, my gaze strayed once more to the newspaper photo. I just couldn’t help myself. The camera had managed to capture Royce’s raw masculinity, but the film failed to reveal the blatant sexuality that oozed from his every pore.
    “I can give you all the details right now,” I told them, using my next words as a vow to myself. “Nothing’s going to happen between Royce and me because I won’t let it.”
    Circling a fingertip over the rim of her glass, Mel said, “Whatever you say, you dirty sex kitten.”
    I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wished to God I could add Royce’s name to my To Be Avoided list. He was causing trouble already. Truly, a smart woman would have called him and ended all association. But with my new motto—I’ll Plan a Party in Your Ass if the Price Is Right—I had to stick it out.
    “I, for one, am grateful Royce entered your life. He’s causing your sex drive to finally kick into gear.” Mel drained the last of her juice. “About time, too.”
    “Hey, did you read this part? I missed it earlier.” Kera suddenly grabbed the paper. She hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Royce actually lists the qualities he wants in his wife.”
    “I’ve read it.” I grabbed another muffin, mimicking:“She must share my interest in backgammon. She cannot complain too much. If she doesn’t speak at all, even better. And she absolutely must love the color green.” Disgusted, I shook my head. “That’s either meant to be a joke or the man needs intense psychotherapy.”
    “You know,” Kera said, brightening, “we need a list like this.”
    “A stupid one?” I asked.
    Kera pursed her lips. “No, a list of requirements.”
    “What for? Mel’s taken. I’m not looking. And you, well, all you have to do is breathe to gain a man’s attention.” Which was true. She and Mel might be identical, but there was an innocent sensuality to Kera that somehow personified the term wet dream. Men went crazy for her.
    “Actually, I’m a free woman now,” Mel said, not an ounce of remorse in her tone. “So I’m on the prowl.”
    I couldn’t hide my surprise. “What happened to Harry? Last I heard, you two were hot and heavy.”
    “I dumped him. He kept asking to borrow my panties.” She shook her head, blond hair dancing with the movement. “It wouldn’t have been so bad, except he wanted them so he could wear them.”
    Nose crinkled, Kera wiggled until her legs were folded under her. “I never liked him. He was too…funky.”
    “What kind of name is Harry Johnson, anyway?” Mel said. “What could I use as an endearment? Woody?”
    “I think Harry Johnson is a great name,” I said,deadpan. “As long as he’s got a father named Peter and a brother named Dick.”
    Mel chuckled. “Let’s not talk about Harry, Harry, the Panty Wearer, okay?”
    “I’d rather talk about our list.” Propping her elbows on the tabletop, Kera