"Excuse me but ... don't I know you?"
With a heavy sigh, Rick turned. The woman's eyes glowed in their indigo depths as she searched her mind for an answer only he knew.
Yes, she did know him. She had known him forever.
"No, no I'm sorry. You must have mistaken me for someone else."
Her delicate brows knit together. "I was so sure."
The silken skin of her cheek filled his hand before he realized his own intentions. So warm, so vibrant, so alive, he knew he wouldn't survive if he lost her again.
Deep regret squeezed his heart. He had no choice. He had to let her go.
Rick bent his head close to her ear. His senses flared when her exquisite scent mingled with the heat of their skin not quite touching. With great effort, he forced back emotions long concealed within his abandoned heart.
"Forget, my love," he whispered. "Forget."
With a last caress, a last look, he let his hand drop and turned to go.
"Forget what?"
The soft-spoken words thundered in Rick's ears. He whipped his head around, brows furrowed in disbelief.
She simply stood staring at him, her innocent face marred by the confusion of knowledge just out of reach.
Impossible.
One exquisite arm extended towards him.
"Merrick wait!"
The slam of the gallery door behind him silenced her plea.
No one had ever withstood the influence of his subtle command. Ever. And no one called him by his given name. No one even knew it--no one except her. Each of them had known. And each of them had died.
)
Over the centuries, Rick Shayne has loved and lost the same woman four times. Her reappearance only deepens his guilt and he refuses to risk her life or his heart again. Liz Greyson isn't about to let him off that easy, but will her secret be his saving grace or cast him back into the shadows of moonlight forever.
