Page 43 of Twilight Longings

Dropping his phone on the bedside table, he hugged Kadie’s pillow to his chest. An indrawn breath filled his nostrils with her familiar scent. Murmuring her name, he fell back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. He had rarely prayed in the course of his long, long life, but he prayed now, prayed fervently that Kadie would regain her memories and that, if Ethan should need it, the Methuselah Stone would work its magic a second time.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Only half-awake, Kadie rolled over as the dream she’d been having faded into another one. She wasn’t at the beach anymore but in a large room with a high-backed sofa. A man who looked remarkably like Saintcrow cradled her in his arms. A wave of apprehension skittered down her spine when he drew her closer, closer.

“Time for a taste,” he said, and bent his head to her neck.

Panic surged through her as she tried to wriggle out of his hold, but his arm, as hard and unyielding as iron, held her fast.

She gasped when his eyes went red, let out a startled cry when she felt the prick of his fangs at her throat. His mouth was incredibly hot against her skin. He was drinking from her. She expected to feel revulsion, disgust, horror. Instead, a delicious warmth spread through her whole body, pooling deep within her, culminating in a rush of unexpected sensual pleasure that stole the breath from her body. Hardly aware of what she was doing, she grabbed a handful of his hair to hold him in place, afraid he would take his mouth away …

The sound of someone knocking at the door roused her. For a moment, she didn’t know if it was real or part of her dream. Her dream. She shuddered at the memory, then shook her head. She was being silly. There was no such thing as vampires.

“Kadie? Kadie, are you awake?”

At the sound of Saintcrow’s voice, she threw back the covers, grabbed her robe, and went to answer the door. “Morning,” she said, around a yawn.

“Did I wake you?”

She nodded as she took a step back. “Come in.”

“I thought I’d take you out to breakfast,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Oh.” She yawned again. And then she stared at him. He looked exactly like the man in her nightmare.

“Everything all right?” Saintcrow asked.

“What? Oh, ah, of course. I’ll just go get dressed,” she said, and practically ran out of the room.

Saintcrow watched her go. Curious, he let his mind brush hers. And then he frowned. What the hell! She had been dreaming about a vampire. A vampire that looked remarkably like him. And then he grinned. Perhaps her memory was coming back.

Kadie ordered French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon for breakfast, and a tall glass of orange juice.

Saintcrow watched her eat, wondering what it was like. He couldn’t remember the last time he had consumed mortal food, what it had been, or what it had tasted like. So many of today’s popular foods hadn’t even been around before he became a vampire, and those that had been available—like bread and milk and eggs—were now sold and served in myriad ways.

“What would you like to do today?” he asked.

She hesitated a moment before answering. “I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever you want.”

Had she hurt his feelings? He had been so kind, so helpful. She believed they had once been friends, but she didn’t remember anything about him, and she needed a little time alone, time to consider a future that was as unknown as her past. “You’ve been very kind, but …”

He held up his hand. “I understand. You have my number if you need anything.”

Reaching into his shirt pocket, he withdrew a credit card and handed it to her.

Kadie shook her head. “You don’t need to … I can’t …”

“Yes, you can. Go sit in the park. Go shopping, take in a movie, whatever.” He shrugged. “I can afford it.” He held her gaze for a long moment, his expression inscrutable, then said, “I’ll call you later, if it’s all right.”

“Of course it is.”

With a nod, he rose and walked away.

Kadie stared after him, hoping again that she hadn’t hurt his feelings. After all, he was the only friend she had, even if she didn’t remember him. There was something about him, she thought, something … different. He was tall, dark, and handsome as sin and yet there was something just a little off about him, as if he was holding back. Holding back what, she had no idea.

Deciding to do as Saintcrow had suggested, Kadie went shopping for sneakers, a wallet and a handbag, a jacket, and toiletries. And always, the man was on her mind. Who was he, really? He didn’t seem to work yet he appeared to have money to burn. Was he a reclusive millionaire? A wealthy playboy? A con man?

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