A woman of her beauty seemed out of place among the common laborers. But she struggled, every day, in her flower stall. In fact, she was so busy organizing a jasmine bouquet that she hardly noticed him at first. It was elegant, but earthy. And as rugged as the mountains of Kasmir from which she greeted. In fact, the only clue to his identity as a saffron baron was a slight yellow tinge on the cuffs of his silk shirt. As he leaned over to admire a jasmine garland, he smelled the unmistakable sweet-and-sour aroma of the spice. Suddenly a market bell rang in the hour, punctuating the moment when their eyes locked. It was 6 o'clock, when the market closed, the jasmine blossomed and new loves blossomed.

Olfactory notes : Saffron, Cashmeran, Indian jasmine, cumin.