Page 55 of Twilight Longings

“Smart girl. Maybe you should just tell her the truth.”

“Maybe. But until then, I’d appreciate it if you and Rosa kept your distance.”

“Yeah,” Kincaid said. “Sorry about mentioning that Kadie had been here before.”

“Could have been worse,” Saintcrow said.

“Does she know the two of you are married?”

“No. I keep hoping something in town will spark her memory. I just don’t know how she’ll react if I tell her we’re married. It would be one thing if she loved me, but …” He shrugged. “She likes me well enough, and I know she’s attracted to me, but think of the pressure she’d feel if she knew we were married.”

“I guess you’re right. She might start worrying that you’d expect your husbandly rights.”

“Exactly. I warned the employees not to mention our relationship and to address her as Kadie or Miss Andrews. I thought about trying to restore her memories but you knowthat doesn’t always turn out well. It’s better if she remembers on her own. Plus, there are things I don’t know and likely things she’d rather forget.” Saintcrow shook his head. “The Medallion erased her memories. Who knows if there might be some other unexpected problems if I try to restore what was lost.”

Kincaid grunted thoughtfully. “You may be right. Didn’t Izabela say something about unknown complications?”

“Yeah.” Saintcrow plowed his fingers through his hair. “I’m just grateful Kadie’s here and alive.”

“What do you think Luca is up to? Any chance he’s no longer a threat?”

Saintcrow stared at him, one brow arched in wry amusement. “You killed the woman he loved. What do you think?”

“Stupid question on my part?”

“Right the first time.”

“What do you suppose he’s doing these days?”

“Probably looking for you.”

“Yeah,” Kincaid muttered glumly. “I guess he’ll never give up. Fortunately, I’ve still got this.” Kincaid tapped his fingers on the thick gold cuff on his left wrist. “God bless Izabela and her dark magic. I wish to hell we knew where he was.”

Saintcrow grunted in agreement. “Until we have some idea of where to find him, there’s no point in looking. Even Izabela doesn’t have a clue.”

“Yeah. Catch ya later.”

After Kincaid left, Saintcrow remained at the bar, a glass of wine cradled in his hand, his thoughts centered, as always, on Kadie. He hadn’t seen her all day, but she’d be done at the hotel in a couple of hours. Pulling out his cell phone, he called the reservations desk.

“Morgan Creek Hotel. May I help you?”

“Yes, indeed,” he said, smiling at the sound of her voice. “I need someone to go out with me tonight. Any suggestions?”

Kadie laughed softly. “I’m sorry, sir. I think you have the wrong number. This is a hotel, not a dating service.”

“Any chance you’d make an exception in my case? After all, I do own the hotel.”

She laughed again, reminding him of the good times they had shared, the way her laughter had changed his life. “How about it?” he asked.

“Like you said, you’re the boss.”

“Eat an early dinner. I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something pretty.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Saintcrow was smiling when he hung up, something he hadn’t done much of until Kadie Andrews, freelance photographer, crossed the Morgan Creek bridge one stormy night and turned his life upside down.

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