How could he not know what it was? Wasn't the stuff all around at Christmas? Sisse tamped down on her annoyance, reminding herself that her brothers were likely just as oblivious. But here he was, so very close and she had to explain to him what was hanging over their heads.

"Mistletoe." The word was almost a whisper between them, a gentle caress of admission. "I believe the enchanted kind." The kind that left one with only one option, the kind that stilled you until it had had its fun. Hadn't Sisse been the punchline of enough jokes? She didn't need enchanted mistletoe taunting her even when it wasn't Christmas.