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Olivia awoke later that afternoon, at dusk, which came fairly early to the northern realm. She listened to the sounds of the cottage and realized Zane was already up. She could smell coffee brewing.
She felt like a slacker. She’d done this twice now, rising after him, and it seemed very odd to her not to be out of bed before her man.
Her man.
She smiled, loving the feel of the expression. Her man.
She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and overlaying them with her arms. She was completely naked, having fallen asleep right after Zane had thoughtfully brought her a cloth and placed it against her well. She smiled, thinking just how much of his seed he’d planted inside her. Would it take root? Would she bear his vampire child?
It was highly unlikely, though. Conception was not necessarily an easy matter for long-lived Realm-folk.
She was deliciously sore and almost called Zane back to bed for another round, but decided against it. She knew she had to talk to him about Emily. And even Regan had confirmed the necessity of getting this terrible business out in the open.
She slid from bed and her eyes popped wide, because another stack of her clothes sat on the dresser next to the bathroom doorway.
Zane was incredibly thoughtful, and her heart warmed a little more.
She showered and got ready for the night. She wasn’t certain what would happen next, whether Zane intended to take her back to her Barker’s Bend home, or what? Maybe his brigades had defeated Margetta at the Dead Zone, but there were always enough rogue Invictus pairs, unattached to Margetta, who required his Vampire Guard to keep patrolling through the night. Or maybe he still wanted her to stick close. She wasn’t sure.
Whatever the case, she showered, washing her hair and afterward taking her time to get it all dry. Once she’d donned a fresh pair of jeans and a soft lavender, long-sleeved t-shirt, she moved into the kitchen.
When Zane saw her, he wore such a tender expression that her breath caught in her throat. Though he was preparing their first meal, he stopped what he was doing and greeted her with a warm embrace and a full kiss.
She melted against him, fully aware she didn’t want to leave. Ever.
Suddenly, her heart beat hard in her chest. The time had come to tell him the truth about Emily. But she knew Zane, knew what he’d suffered because of his belief that his wife had died. To bring her back to life in this way, seemed cruel.
“I’m cooking scrambled eggs. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
Before he did anything else, however, he poured her a mug of coffee and handed it to her. “Thank you.”
He frowned slightly. “You okay?”
She nodded, then rounded the kitchen island and sat down on one of the tall stools across from him. She settled the mug on the counter.
As he worked over the pan of eggs, he asked, “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because you’re jittery as all hell.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He glanced at her, scowling, then turned back to shut off the heat. He ladled the eggs onto two plates, along with slices of toast and bacon he’d already prepared.
“I haven’t known you very long, Olivia, but your memories tell me when you look like this, you have something that needs saying.” He put her plate in front of h
er, then sat down beside her.
“You’re right, but I have no idea how to begin.”
He took a bite of toast and sipped his coffee. “Just say the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Okay.” She launched in. “A couple of years ago, I saw your wife’s paintings in a gallery in Freeport.”
Zane set his toast down then his mug. “What? I don’t understand. Emily had never been outside Swanicott. How could her paintings have been in Maine?”
Oh, God, how could she do this? But he needed to know, though she chose not to answer his question directly. “One of the paintings was of your lighthouse home on the bluff overlooking Maris Luna. It was beautiful.”
