“Dove smiled in satisfaction. “Something I picked up in the south of France. It’s the purest jasmine from Grasse, which makes it very special indeed.” “Why?” Evie sniffed again. The scent was rich and sensual, curling against her like a cat and warming itself on her skin. “Child, jasmine is one of the most seductive scents imaginable, and the stuff from Grasse is the finest in the world. In the little village where I collected that, the farmers won’t even let their nubile daughters walk through the fields when the flowers are ripe for fear they won’t be able to control themselves.” “I can see why,” Evie murmured. The heavy fragrance was intoxicating, and she felt like someone entirely new.”
Book:Whisper of Jasmine
