CARSON STOOD THERE, STARING around the corner, as Misha sat at a table with her brother and someone he didn’t know, but who seemed slightly familiar to him. He wanted desperately to go over and intrude on their dinner, but his nerves wouldn’t permit him to take that step. Was the guy with them a friend? Her boyfriend? Maybe a relative? And where had he seen the man before?
He shook his head. No, not a relative. How could it be? Their family had died almost seven centuries ago. No one was left. No one but him, that is, and she didn’t even know he was from her past. She didn’t believe him, and he had no clue how to make her.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Carson turned, noticing the hostess he had walked past when he entered the restaurant, standing behind him. He gave her a sheepish shrug and a
