Unable to think of a plausible way to explain why there was an empty coffin in a cement underground vault beneath the club, Zack had wiped the memory of his lair and its contents from the minds of all those who had seen it. He had destroyed the coffin and thrown away all the contents of the box, save for the book.
He ran a hand over his jaw. “Do you remember when we first met and you asked me if I’d ever been in love?”
Kaitlyn nodded.
“And I said once? Well, it was Colette.”
“You must have loved her very much to have kept that book all this time.”
He shrugged. And then he cupped Kaitlyn’s face in his hands. “Think about it, Katy. In six hundred years, I never married. Why do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know.” He was a remarkably handsome man. Sexy as all get out, with a smile that could melt iron. He was fun to be with. And great in bed. And . . . She frowned. “Why haven’t you ever married?”
“Don’t you know, Katy darlin’?” Swinging her into his arms, he carried her swiftly into the bedroom, lowered her gently to the bed, and stretched out beside her. “I was waiting for my Juliet. I was waiting for you.”