Teresa Southwick - Baby, Oh Baby!

“Right back at you,” Rachel told him. “I’ll see your spell and raise you an incantation or two.”

He grinned. “That’s what I like about you. You give as good as you get.”

She blinked up at him. “Did you just admit you like me?”

“I already admitted we’re friends, but it was probably part of that whole spell thing you’ve got going.”

“I see.” She slid her hands from his neck, down over the muscular contours of his chest. “Far be it for me to wear out my welcome. I’ll just take my spell and go home—”

“The hell you will,” he said, tightening his hold.

A sound came from the monitor in her pocket. A little cough and a sneeze.

“Omigosh. Emma.”

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Angie Ray and Marianne Donley—my gratitude for all the nitpicking. Here’s to the power of three.

lives in Southern California with her hero husband, who is more than happy to share with her the male point of view. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.

The fortune-teller said…

The baby you ask for comes with a price.

The promise you make could cost you twice.

If the three born on February twenty-ninth rub the magic from the lamp and make a wish—on that day that comes only once every four years—each shall receive her most coveted desire.

But there is peril.

Each of the three must see beyond the evident. Look into the soul of the one her heart has chosen. Only then will she find the truth that is hers alone.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

New Orleans—February 29, 2004

“What are the odds of being born on February 29?” Rachel Manning looked at Ashley Gallagher and Jordan Bishop, her two best friends in the world and fellow leap year birthday celebrators.

“If you’re the three of us, the chances are one hundred percent,” Ashley answered.

Jordan tapped her chin thoughtfully. “When you think about it, the odds of three women remaining friends from the newborn nursery to the present are probably astronomical. We’re legendary, like the Three Musketeers.”

“Pop quiz,” Ashley said. “What was your best birthday?”

“You’re such a college girl,” Jordan teased. “Although we’re twenty-four today, technically we’ve only had six birthdays, so the question doesn’t put a strain on the memory banks.”

“This is the best birthday,” Ashley said. “How cool is it to be here in New Orleans?”

“I second that.” Rachel glanced uneasily over her shoulder. “It’s getting late. We should probably head back. I’d like to make a toast to us at a cozy hotel bar.”

“Aw, Mom, don’t be a party pooper,” Ashley teased. “This is my last carefree night. Tomorrow it’s back to work and classes. For the next two and a half months I have to gird my loins, or whatever you call it, to get ready for finals and graduation.”

“Hallelujah.” Jordan grinned.

“Better late than never,” Ashley defended herself. “I want to squeeze every last ounce of fun out of tonight. By my calculations, we only have about fifteen minutes left until our birthday is over. And we won’t have another official one for four more years.” Jordan linked her arms through theirs, urging them forward. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into before we get that birthday drink.”

That was when Rachel heard someone yelling. Just ahead she saw a woman standing on the sidewalk outside a shop. She was agitated and pointing. “Stop him! Thief! Help!”

Rachel’s heart thumped hard against her ribs. Oh, where was that safe hotel bar when you really needed it? People on the sidewalk parted and she saw a slight figure in a black ski cap and dark clothes running straight toward them.

Jordan tugged on their arms, urging them out of the way, which was just fine with Rachel. But if he had a knife or a gun….

Then the thief was directly in front of them and Rachel saw Jordan’s foot slide out. As he went down, something fell from his hand and clattered on the walkway at their feet. Jordan bent and grabbed it. Half a second later the guy was up, shooting them a furious look. Rachel braced herself for his attack. But when a siren sounded, he took off around the corner.

“Jordan,” Ashley said, her voice breathless, “When you decide to find trouble, you don’t waste any time.”

“Everyone okay?” Rachel asked. She looked at one then the other of her friends.

“Yeah,” Ashley said. “Shouldn’t we do something? Call the police? Chase him?”

“He’s long gone.” Jordan was turning the tarnished brass she’d picked up from side to side. “The only thing we can do is return this. It looks like a lamp, straight out of Aladdin.”

Rachel shook her head. “That’s your adventurous streak talking. It looks like a glorified gravy boat to me. But obviously that woman wants it back.”

Together, they walked toward the waiting woman. She looked like a Gypsy, dressed all in black with a matching bandanna tied pirate style over her dark brown hair.

Jordan held out the recovered object. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” The woman turned the thing over, examining it. “If this had fallen into the hands of someone who abused it…” She shook her head and let out a breath. “I am very grateful.”

“It was nothing,” Ashley said. “Jordan’s big feet are always getting in the way.” She grinned when the owner of the big feet in question glared at her.

The Gypsy shook her head. “You shall be rewarded for your courage. Won’t you please come inside?”

“I don’t know about this, you guys,” Rachel said, glancing down at the fog swirling around their feet. It was then she noticed the strange green light glowing inside the shop.

“It’s all smoke and mirrors. You need to loosen up and be open to new experiences. Carpe diem. When an opportunity presents itself, seize it with both hands and go along for the ride.” Jordan linked her arms through theirs again and tugged them into the shop.

“My name is Faith,” the woman said. She turned, holding the dull, dirty brass thing as if it was spun gold. “Each of you must rub the lamp and make a wish.”

“I told you it was a lamp,” Jordan said.

“Isn’t the going rate for a good deed three wishes?” Ashley asked.

Jordan made a tsking noise. “No wonder it’s taken you so long to get through college. Do the math. One wish apiece is three wishes.”

“And one is all you need if it’s the right one,” the strange woman said.

“Okay. But as the story goes, a genie will appear. What do we do then? One guy? Three women? Do we arm wrestle for a date with him?” Ashley asked.

“No genie,” Faith said. “That’s very yesterday. But I promise if you wish for your heart’s desire, you will be rewarded.”

Ashley met Rachel’s gaze. “With your track record, it wouldn’t be smart to wish for a man. On the off chance your wish comes true.”

“No man,” Rachel agreed. Every time she’d let herself care, she lost something.

“I don’t want a man, either,” Jordan commented.