It was almost too much. And yet I wanted more. Like the craving of an adrenaline high on a rollercoaster after the first breathless dip, I wouldn’t stop until the ride had come to a screeching halt.

Almost as if hearing that thought, William’s tongue slipped along my lips, slowly, seductively asking for permission to enter.

Goddess, the tingles suddenly transformed into aches. Now it was more than mere wanting. I needed more.

Permission granted.

Within seconds, the kiss intensified and the pressure from his mouth deepened. His tongue slipped into my mouth and was now dueling with mine, as if we faced each other on a field of battle. Against my will, a little sigh escaped my lips.

I hadn’t had a kiss like this in ages. It was searing, bright and powerful—pure thrill. At once, I trembled with fear and craving. Wanting to pull away and end it while also willing it to never end.

William made the decision for me, and as he slowly pulled away, I felt just as jolted from the severance of our connection as I did when it began. After a long, silent moment, he cleared his throat. “Now that is a goodnight kiss.”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. As soon as I did, his grin widened and I felt a pang at how adorable he was while still being incredibly sexy. My throat tightened and my heart rate sped up as a distant fear nibbled at the back of my thoughts.

I couldn’t get involved with William for so many reasons, not the least of which was that I was leaving soon. And though I needed that tiara back, I couldn’t let feelings get involved. I—I couldn’t go there with him. I could never go there with anyone. My heart had been killed and buried long ago.

But it hadn’t taken me long to realize that William was different than the others. And if Ann was right and he did have a thing for me, then this couldn’t go any further.

I stepped back to move into the doorway, only to bang my head loudly on the closed door. “Ow! Shit.” I’d forgotten to open the door, and in my dazzled state had tried to walk through solid matter. It didn’t take a physics student to know that you couldn’t do that.

William asked if I was okay, and I barely muttered enough to alleviate his concern before telling him goodbye as quickly as possible. Then I unlocked the door and moved inside before he could say another word.

No, I couldn’t open this drawbridge and let him in. I had to keep everything shut up tight inside—man my watchtowers, bar the city gates. He could assemble his siege, lay in wait outside the moat, but I wouldn’t be around long enough for him to wait it out. Unlike a medieval fortress, Jenna Kovac was a movable, transient being.

And I always would be.

I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up because I may have spent a few hours reliving that kiss. I tossed and turned and told myself I was being an idiot. It wasn’t the first time a handsome guy had kissed me, after all.

When I woke up on Saturday morning, it was almost noon. No thanks to my roommate. There should be a law against running a vacuum before nine o’clock on weekends. And if there were such a law, I’d have been the first one calling the cops on Alex.

Fortunately for her, she was gone by the time I got up, having left me a note on the fridge to explain that she was spending the day helping her mom with a garage sale. I was slurping up a bowl of cereal when my phone rang.

I checked the ID and answered immediately. There was no way I was missing this call—bleary-eyed or not.

“Ćao, Helena,” I said with a smile on my face.

“Janja! How are you? Are you free this afternoon? I’m going to be in Orange County this evening to meet some friends. I thought I’d come early and take you out to lunch. Are you busy?”

“I am now. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Yes, it’s been over a month and it’s all my fault. But we’ll catch up over lunch, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in hour.”

After I hung up, I pressed the button on my phone and noted the date. The twenty-eighth of March. It was no accident that Helena wanted to see me today—the anniversary date was less than a week away.

Seven years. I blinked the sting out of my eyes and swallowed, determined to dig out my finest outfit to wear when I saw Helena. She was always so elegant, so put together. For years, I’d wanted to grow up to be just like her.

A flash of a memory invaded my thoughts. The night I’d met her it had been the homecoming dance of my freshman year in high school. My third date with Brock. He’d brought me over to the house to take photos and meet his parents, and they’d been so thrilled that he was dating a girl from “the old country.”

I reflected on that night as I spent twice the amount of time that I normally did on my hair and make-up. I pulled my hair back into a French braid and tied it with an embroidered ribbon that Caitlyn had given me at the last regional market. She’d been so happy to hear that I’d agreed to travel with the Ren Faire as their fortune card reader that she’d given me the ribbon to celebrate.

Helena arrived on time, and I was waiting at the curb for her…in the exact same spot where William had picked me up the night before. He’d probably be both shocked and thrilled at my punctuality. I smiled at the thought.

Helena, as always, looked perfect. A forty-nine-year-old woman who looked at least a decade—possibly two—younger than her actual age, she had dark hair and olive skin, and she always reminded me of a sophisticated movie actress from the eighties.

She had high cheekbones and an elegantly constructed face, with a neck like a swan and a beautiful figure. The clothes she wore were expensive but understated, and she attracted admiring looks wherever she went.

There was no doubt she’d passed her beauty on to her son. With his dark curly hair and deep blue eyes, he’d been the most handsome boy at our high school. And he’d picked me. Or rather, he’d listened when the Fates had picked us out for each other.

“Janja!” As always, Helena greeted me by kissing me on both cheeks, keeping alive old country traditions. Like me, Helena had been born in the former Yugoslavia. Unlike me, Helena was ethnically a Serb, while I was Bosnian-Croatian. But we’d met here, in California, and now she and her husband were like family.

Neither of us had found a Balkan-style restaurant in the area that satisfied our cravings for our native homeland, so this afternoon she took me to one of the trendy bistros in downtown Fullerton.




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