“Richard?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Have you and Andrew always not gotten along?” She knew the vampire prince of Las Vegas, they all did. He was a regular visitor at the casino, but she’d never really cared for him, and after the events earlier this evening, she could safely say she despised him.

“We knew him in the Wolcotts, darling, and no, we have never gotten along. The sycophants around him too easily sway his choices. It’s why Las Vegas is so perfect for—” He stopped and she could almost see the leap his mind made. The leap hers already assumed.

After all, how better to irritate the hell out of her lover than to…

“You didn’t?” He didn’t quite glare at her, but disbelief and disgust twisted in his expression.

“I don’t know that I did and I’m rather hoping not, because he’s a lot skeevy, but I wanted to teach you a lesson and get your attention—why not seek out someone who would thoroughly piss you off?”

Pain flashed through Richard’s eyes, a dark and seemingly bottomless well of it that vanished behind a shuttering in his expression. He pulled away from her and rose. Kiki sighed. She didn’t want to be that woman—not anymore. Even if it meant never remembering, she didn’t want to hurt him that way.

Ever again.

“Richard, I’m—”

He held up a hand, silencing her. He walked over to the dresser and set his glass down. Hands braced on the wood, he seemed to study the counter top. Every muscle in his body rigidly flexed.

“I’m sorry,” she began again. But he didn’t seem to hear her words. He stood so very still.

The sound of the wood snapping cut through the silence as he ripped the dresser sideways. Glass crashed to the floor, and the wood slammed into the wall and shattered.


Richard exhaled a long breath. “You have nothing to be sorry about, my love.” The control in his voice didn’t match his actions at all. Nor did it reflect the fists of fury clenched in his gut. Kristina may have toyed with the Prince of Las Vegas, but he knew his bride…she would never have taken it beyond the teasing stage.

The shattered wood and glass piled against the wall, and he turned to look at her wide-eyed worry and fought to find a smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong—impulsive, I’ll grant you. But I trust you, Kristina.”

“That’s great,” her voice trembled. “But how can you when I don’t know for sure? I must have done something that landed me here. Heidi said she didn’t own my contract, which means someone else does. I have no memory of a life before being in the Midnight Mystery Lounge, but obviously I had one. And…” She rose and walked toward him, unabashed and beautiful in her nudity. “…and I don’t know. I don’t know how to find the answers and I don’t know if I want them.”

He frowned. “You don’t want to remember?” Did he hear that correctly?

She picked her way past the glass and debris until she stood in front of him. Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she stared at him with such honest devotion it took his breath away. She still loves me. He believed it, tasted it in her kisses and her caresses—but the surge of emotion he felt from her now made those other experiences pale. His blood flowed through her, the fractured, latent connection sizzled to real life.

She loved him.

“I don’t want to be the woman who hurt you.”

He looped his arms around her and tugged her close. “I hurt me too, darling. I do not blame you for our fights and I would never blame you for what has befallen you. I blame myself. I blame my stubbornness and pride. I put my city before you and I shouldn’t have done that—”

“But being Prince must mean a lot of work and a lot of responsibility—I could have been more understanding.”

“You understood for several centuries, Kristina.” He leaned back and mirrored her pose, holding her face in his hands. “Centuries. You supported every effort I made, you didn’t complain…”

She snorted. “Seriously? Ever?”

“Okay, you complained.” A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “But you never stopped supporting me. I should have been more sensitive to your needs.” But it was easier to say later. I would do it later, and then later disappeared, and you weren’t there. He swallowed the grief of her absence, burying it deep. He’d sustained himself with irritation and anger for decades. He could hold on longer—hold on until she was his again.

Frustration rent through him, but he kissed her as gently as he could before letting her go so he could begin cleaning up the destruction. He would have to replace Malcolm’s furniture.

“I could talk to Andrew. He’s often in the Arcana Royale…”

“No.” He glared at her over his shoulder. “You will stay away from him.”

“But we still don’t know why I’m here or how to get me free. Malcolm had to play a game for Pandora. And Roseâtre… Roseâtre was only trapped because she willed it…” Kristina jerked and glanced at her wrists, examining them carefully.

Sweeping the glass onto a discarded sheet, he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Roseâtre had on slave bands, but you couldn’t see them. I just wanted to see if I did.”

“You can’t use slave bands on a vampire, love.” He gave her an indulgent smile when she grumbled. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because vampires answer to their makers, the slave band can’t force them to do anything because—” He considered the reasons behind the sire-child bond. A maker had to be able to control their child, but the natural born—their makers were their parents. Those bonds stayed in effect until the parent died. Yet, slave bands didn’t affect the natural born. The act of making a human into a vampire was difficult enough, and the unpredictable results on the turned negated any potential gain.

“No. Not slave bands and even if they did, that wouldn’t take away your memory.” He carried the debris into the other room and set it in a corner. Kristina still stood in the middle of the bedroom, looking a little lost and forlorn when he returned. “We will figure this out, I swear that to you. I will not leave you here.”

“Leave?” The color in her cheeks faded. “You can’t stay here.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling. We will figure this out before I have to go.” He had one sundown left. One more day. It wasn’t enough time.

It has to be.

“Come—” He held out his hand. “Come sit with me by the fire and just be with me for now. The sun will rise in just a little while. Let us have that time…”

“No.” The rejection stung, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I promised Heidi I would return before the sun came up and I don’t—I don’t want you to see what happens when it does.”

His gut clenched. “I already saw, love. I would rather be with you and have you know I will be here when you waken.”

But she shook her head. “No. I hate that you saw me like that. I really hate it. I want you to remember me like this. Not cold and asleep and lost. I wake at sunset. I’m whole again. And I have to dance tonight…”

Anger crashed through him again, anger at the situation, at the casino, at the stage manager—at himself. He held her in his arms. He’d tasted her sweet lips, and she’d drunk from him but still she wasn’t free. If only he just had to kill someone—Andrew. He could kill him. But would that be enough to free her?

“Please, Richard.” It was the soft note of pleading around the first word that undid him. “Please don’t watch when it happens. Let me go away where you can’t see. I swear to you as soon as the performance is over, I will be yours again.”

He wanted to deny her, to hold her captive and tell the whole hotel to go to hell. If he held her, maybe he could stop the curse from taking her. But that was what he wanted—not what she was asking.

“I hate letting you go.” He admitted. He wasn’t sure he physically could let her go. She’d escaped the night before because he’d been too dazzled by their reunion and her rebuff to stop her. But could he really hold her captive?

“I hate having to go…but thank you. You will be at the show, you promise?”

“Of course.” He would never leave her side again if given his way. She rewarded him with another kiss and snuggled against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Tomorrow night could very well be their last together…

He clamped off the thought and discarded it. It would not be their last, no matter what it cost him. He wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m going to shower.” She slipped away and sidestepped the glittering shards of glass in the carpet. He followed her inside and leaned against the wall. She turned on the hot jets and glanced over at him. “You could join me, you know…”

He smiled slowly. “I like to watch.”

“Dirty, dirty boy.” She winked and slid a hand over her breast. His whole body twitched as she rolled her thumb back and forth over it until it puckered. “Okay, if you like to watch. I’ll make sure it’s a show.”

She stepped under the water and left the door open. She took her time rubbing the water onto her skin. Eventually, she added soap, and when the washcloth glided up between her thighs, he launched off the wall and into the shower.

Scooping her up, he pressed her flat against the wall and claimed her mouth, thrusting into her in the same motion. Her laughter rang into his ears, and he let himself drown in her touch.

Thirty minutes later, he helped her into her dress and laid a kiss against her shoulder. “I love you, Kristina. Please don’t forget that.”

“I love you too.” Her easy declaration made his soul sing. “I may not remember where we met or all the years we spent together or even how I ended up here…but I know I love you. I won’t give up on us.”