The fire snapped, waking Nico from a pleasant dream. He’d been home to Italy, watching the blue sea from the balcony of his villa outside of Salerno. He hadn’t been there in months and never realized how much he missed it. Jamie had been there with him, his glorious hair catching the sunlight.
Nico drew a contented breath and reached for Jamie, fear jolting him when he encountered empty space. He blinked his eyes open. The great room was growing dark as evening approached and he sat up, his frantic gaze darting to the kitchen, then swinging back to the dining area. Jamie’s easel was a black shape against the faint light from the picture windows. Jamie wasn’t there. Nico listened, but the cabin remained quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood.
“Jamie?” he called, dread tigh
