Rose watched the man pace the sitting room of the suite where the Twins usually entertained. He fisted his hands repeatedly, trying to keep them from shaking and his eyes had a haunted shadow in them. She didn’t know his name, just knew that if she let him partake of the tender tortures the Twins were known for tonight, something in him would break past repair.

Magic glittered inside of Rose, and her body shifted in answer to his need. Breasts and hips grew, ample curves straining the fabric of her gown. Hair the color of sunset developed curl and tumbled down her back, and her eyes deepened to sapphire. With a smile she stepped into the light to be noticed.

He stopped and stared, mouth hanging open as she walked toward him. As he sucked in breath to speak, she placed a finger on his lips and shook her head. Magic swirled around them, softening, blurring, and he relaxed under her touch.

Mother Rose took the man to bed and gave him such gentle attention as he had never known he had missed.