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This was the crunch point; did Kit trust her enough to show her?
“I’ll reveal it, but not until you’re prepared to fetch it,” Kit promised.
“Yes, that leads me to a different predicament. I have to contact the police. To receive my insurance coverage, I must report the damage, but how in the world will I explain it? Stephanie wondered.
“Can you not buy another car?” Kit asked.
Stephanie laughed.
“No. They are incredibly expensive, so I need to go through the insurance. But I know for a fact that the insurer will want a crime reference number, and how on earth do I explain what happened?”
“Can’t say ghosts,” Kit agreed.
“No, could you imagine it? Also, it’s been a few days since Justin smashed it to pieces. Again, I’d have to clarify that. Luckily or unluckily, the security system would have recorded it. Maybe we should check the footage?”
“It is rather late. You should rest. You’re still recuperating. We can look in the morning,” Kit suggested as Stephanie hid a yawn.
“That’s fine by me,” she said, rising to her feet.
Kit was at her side instantly, an arm wrapped around her waist to support her. Stephanie sent him a shy smile and allowed him to walk her back to her bedroom. Once there, he squeezed her gently and left her alone.
Stephanie gazed after him as he walked away. She’d rather thought he was considering kissing her for a moment and decided she wasn’t averse to that.
Kit
Blast and damnation. Stephanie had looked so sweet in the dim light, and her lips had been so inviting. Kit had nearly kissed her as she had stared up at him. The age difference between them meant little to him. In fact, he was three hundred years older than her if someone wanted to nitpick.
“What on earth is happening?” Kit asked no one in particular.
He entered his room again. Stephanie’s perfume lingered in the air, and Kit sniffed it before catching himself. His heart skipped a beat before he realised what he was doing.
“Oh no. I’m having feelings for her. That can’t be. My duty has to come first,” Kit said, appalled.
The White Witch paused in taunting Justin and listened in. She trilled a question, and Kit answered.
“I’ve never experienced this before. So why Stephanie, and why now?”
The White Witch sent him a mental shrug and then the image of the imprisoned demon.
“I know my duty! Better than you do!” Kit snapped.
A sense of being wounded floated at Kit, and The White Witch turned her back on him and continued playing with Justin.
Kit sighed. He’d upset his staunchest supporter. He was definitely off balance tonight.
In response to a vindictive slap aimed at the Human Killer outside, Kit winced. Oh yes, indeed, he’d most certainly alienated The White Witch.
He sank into his chair and searched his feelings. Ever since Stephanie had been attacked, they’d been developing and growing. Intent on healing her and then making sure she did nothing too strenuous, Kit hadn’t noticed them changing. But now, if he was brutally honest, he didn’t want to lose her.
Kit had always been attracted to the social butterflies. The women who were both beautiful and adept at conversation and dancing. Stephanie embodied two of those qualities but lacked the confident and engaging nature of a butterfly. She was quiet and wouldn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, and Kit found that highly attractive. He realised she calmed him when she was around. Her mere presence soothed his worries and stresses, and he could relax.
Plus, Stephanie was more than pretty. With her expressive eyes, she was a beauty. She embodied the type of unique woman any man would be proud to call wife. And that gave him pause. Because he was no longer alive, he was a spirit. And how would she react to a ghost falling in love with her? Kit knew himself better than anyone. He was developing those feelings for her, love and adoration. Even if Stephanie was ready to move on with a relationship, why on earth would she choose a ghost?
She had no reason to do so and wouldn’t have trouble finding a man to call husband. One who could offer her what Kit couldn’t, and Kit already hated him. He wanted to be the one who offered his name and protection and gave her a home to be proud of. But he couldn’t. All Kit could provide was a half-existence, with a ghost who couldn’t establish his personal identity or his home because he’d been dead three hundred years.
And he’d no doubt Stephanie would see past all that. She legally possessed the inn and thus owned her apartment. His mind flashed to the vault he had in the cellar. One-tenth of whatwas in there would allow Stephanie the means to buy a new place. So why hadn’t he offered her it?
The answer stemmed from his reluctance to let her go. Not now or ever.
