And suddenly all Anna could think about was what her ex-husband had said to her not ten minutes earlier. It would be wrong to blame you, though, wouldnt it? The real monsters are the surgeons who patch together pathetic, soulless creatures like you from the dead and the dying.
HUDDLED INSIDE the apartment, Anna and Laurel remained glued to the TV that evening, watching several local news broadcasts for the latest developments in Michaels murder. But the details remained sketchy. Hed been shot to death in the breezeway between his garage and house. None of the neighbors had heard gunfire, nor had anyone seen anything suspicious. His body had been discovered when a woman walking her dog had gone to investigate her pets frantic barking and strange behavior. No suspects were in custody, and though the police spokesperson didnt come right out and say so, it appeared there were no concrete leads.
After Anna went to bed that night, she lay awake for a long time thinking about everything Michael had done to save her life. And now he was dead. Who could have done such a thing?
Deep down, she didnt really believe Hays had anything to do with the murder, but his words continued to haunt her. When she finally fell into an exhausted sleep, however, she didnt dream about Michael or her ex-husband. She dreamed about the stranger with the scar.
He was lying naked in bed, watching her undress. His eyes were dark and smoldering, and as she slowly approached him, he reached up, snaking a hand around the back of her neck to draw her down for a long, deep, soul-shattering kiss that robbed her of breath and sanity.
For the longest time, they kissed. His tongue was deep inside her mouth, tangling with hers, mating with hers, making her yearn for an even deeper intimacy.
When they finally broke apart, she traced the scar on his face with her fingertip, and he let her for a moment. Then he grabbed her hand, pulling her on top of him, and she came willingly. Eagerly. She moved over him, and their bodies joined so frantically, she cried out. The strangers hands slid downward, grazing her breasts, tracing her waist, grasping her hips as he set a powerful rhythm. Annas head fell back. She could feel herself losing control. In another moment
She woke up, gasping for breath. Her skin was on fire. For a moment, she thought it was the aftermath of the dream, but then she realized her elevated temperature and heart palpitations signified something far more dangerous.
Her body was rejecting her new heart.
Chapter Three
Anna climbed out of her car in San Miguel and stood in the baking heat. July in South Texas could be brutal and she was only a week out of the hospital. Shed rushed this trip. She knew that. She should have given herself another few days to build up her strength, but it was too late to turn back now. Somehow she knew if she got back in her car and drove away she might never work up enough courage to come here again. And if she left now, her self-doubts might never be laid to rest.
Everything about Annas surgery and transplant had been almost textbook perfect. Michael had been so pleased by how readily her body had accepted the new organ and how quickly overall shed recovered. Except for taking her daily meds, Anna had started to believe she could have a normal life again.
But Michaels murder and the organ rejection, coming on the same day, had been two devastating setbacks that had shaken Anna to her core. Both had been grim reminders of how fragile her world had become. Nothing was ever going to be normal for her again, and for the first time since the transplant, shed begun to question whether or not it had been worth it.
Then, on the same day she came home from the hospital, she received a call from Tom Bellows. Hed discovered the identity of her donor. Her name was Katherine Sprague, a thirty-nine-year-old author and teacher whod died of a gunshot wound to the head, leaving behind a daughter, a husband and a sister, all of whom still lived in San Miguel, a small town about thirty miles south of San Antonio.
But even more distressing than hearing about the family Katherine Sprague had left behind was the news of how shed died. Shed put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Anna was alive because of another womans utter despair.
Over the next few days, Katherine Spragues suicide continued to haunt Anna. For hours on end, she pored over the notes Tom had faxed her regarding his investigation. She ordered all of Katherine Spragues novels and read each of them in one sitting. She scoured the Internet for every scrap of information she could find. The research gave her something to focus on other than her own health problems and Michaels death. It gave her a purpose, a mission. It gave her a mountain.
But Anna also knew that her natural curiosity and interest in her donors life was quickly becoming an obsession. She couldnt put Katherines death to rest no matter how hard she tried.
And so shed decided to come to San Miguel. Not to confront Katherines family with the reality of her transplant, but to, in some subtle way, touch Katherines life the way shed touched Annas.
She shivered despite the intense heat. Shed never particularly believed in destiny or fate, but she couldnt deny the connection she felt to the dead woman, or the strange pull she experienced as she stared up at Katherine Spragues sprawling Romanesque-style mansion with its arched windows and towering palm trees.
Located on the edge of town, the house was perched atop a small hill that provided a sweeping view of the San Miguel River. The spacious grounds were lush and colorful, but even with the exotic ambienceor maybe because of itthe mansion had a brooding quality, a faint air of isolation even though the nearest neighbor was just down the street.
There was something about that house
Anna could almost feel the whisper of its secrets along her backbone.
Before she lost her nerve, she hurried up the paved walkway, climbed the steps to the wide stone veranda, and rang the front doorbell. Perspiration dampened her blouse as she waited for her first encounter with Katherines family.
A man answered the door. He was tall and well built, with broad shoulders, dark hair and piercing gray eyes that seemed to gaze at Anna with more than a fair amount of suspicion.
But the impression might simply have been her own conscience, she decided, trying to calm her nerves.
He was dressed in dark clothing that provided very little contrast to the deep shadows in the hallway behind him. For a moment, he appeared little more than a shadow himself.
Except for those eyes
Annas breath quickened, and she experienced an odd sense of déjà vu as she gazed up at him.
Then the moment was over as he inquired impatiently, Yes?
Anna cleared her throat. Immy name is Anna Sebastian. Im here to see Gwen Draven. I believe shes expecting me.
She lives in one of the guest cottages around back, but shes not there. His tone was blunt, still impatient. Not the least bit inviting. She said something about running an errand. I guess she forgot she had an appointment. His gaze swept over her, and Anna winced inwardly at what he must see. A woman who, at thirty-four, should have been in the prime of her life, but instead was too thin, too pale, too fragile-looking to be considered attractive.
Shed pulled her blond hair back in the same French twist shed worn for ages, a style that had once made her look cool and sophisticated, shed been told. Now the severe fashion only highlighted her gauntness. Her eyes were shadowed underneath, and some of the medications made her hands tremble. At least, she tried to convince herself that was the reason for her sudden nervousness.
The mans gaze moved back up to her face. There was something in his eyes, an emotion she couldnt quite define, that spiked Annas adrenaline to a dangerous level, leaving her a little light-headed.
She put a hand on the doorframe for support.
Are you all right? he asked with a scowl. You dont look well.
Its the heat She broke off as he shifted his position in the doorway, and a shaft of light fell across his face. For the first time Anna saw the scar, and her adrenaline surged once again, causing her heart to pound uncomfortably.
She knew him! He was the man from the elevator, the one who had captured her attention that day in the Chase Tower. The man shed dreamed about so intimately
Oh, my God!
Anna tried not to stare, but she couldnt help herself. Finding him here, in Katherine Spragues house, jolted her.
Maybe youd better come inside and wait for Gwen. His tone had warmed slightly even though Anna knew hed been aware of her reaction. And he undoubtedly thought it was because of his appearance.
II dont want to impose. Anna was stunned to find herself stammering. She couldnt remember the last time shed been so disconcerted.
And I dont want you passing out on my doorstep. He stepped back and motioned her inside. We can hear Gwens car in the drive when she gets home. Come in, he insisted when Anna still hesitated. I wont bite. And then, as she moved past him, she could have sworn she heard him mutter, Not before sundown anyway.
Anna waited in the dim, cool hallway as he closed the door, and then she followed him into a large living area off to the right. The room was done in autumn tones of browns and greens with an occasional splash of red thrown in for contrast. Strange wooden masks lined the walls, adding to the exotic flavor of the décor, as did the dramatic touches of animal prints in plush throws and pillows. The furniture and floors were a gleaming mahogany, but the plastered walls, high-beamed ceilings, and filtered light from a row of shuttered French doors kept it just short of oppressive. Anna actually found it cool and restful after the blistering heat of outdoors.
My name is Ben Porter. He motioned her toward a seat. Im Gwens brother-in-law.
How do you do? Anna recognized his name from Toms research. He was an ex-cop whod married Katherine Sprague just a few months before she died.
Anna wanted to believe her reaction to the man had everything to do with the rather bizarre coincidence of finding him here, but even that day in the elevator, when hed barely glanced in her direction, hed sparked something inside her. Shed told herself the scar on his face had drawn her attention, aroused her curiosity, but she wondered suddenly if it was something more.
And this house.
It was dark and foreboding, with its heavy furniture and shuttered windows, and yet there was something enticing about it just the same. Some mysterious pull that made Anna want to explore all of its deep, dark secrets.
Her gaze flickered back to Ben Porter. She suspected he had his own secrets, and she couldnt help wondering what it would take to unmask them. A kiss?
Almost against her will, she lifted fingertips to lips that were unexpectedly tingling. She knew, suddenly, what it would feel like to be kissed by this man. She knew his touch, his scent.
Hed haunted her dreams. So how could he possibly be a stranger?
A deep awareness flooded through Anna, and she trembled. She had Katherines heart. Did she also have some of her memories?
No, of course not! It wasnt possible. A heart was just an organ. Tissue and muscle. It couldnt retain memory. And yet
Could it really be just a bizarre coincidence that shed seen Ben Porter that day in the elevator, felt the impact of his presence, and now their paths had crossed yet again? Here, of all places
His gaze turned quizzical. Are you sure youre okay? Why dont you sit down and Ill get you something cold to drink?
No, please dont bother, Anna managed to say. Ive already put you to too much trouble as it is.
By letting you come in out of the heat? He shrugged. Thats not a problem.
But Im interrupting your afternoon. Maybe I should come back another time.
No need for that. Gwen should be home soon. He gazed at her for a moment longer, and then turned toward the door. Make yourself at home. Ill be right back.
Anna watched him disappear through the arched doorway, and then she turned, gazing around. An ornate bombé chest on the far side of the room held a ceramic vase of orchids and several antique picture frames. Anna walked over and studied the photographs, then reached out and picked up one. It was the same black-and-white shot of Katherine that had been used on the jacket cover of her books.
Shed been an extraordinarily beautiful woman. A statuesque brunette with wide, dark eyes and full, sensuous lips. A woman of passions
As Anna studied the photograph, she gradually became aware of the faint tinkle of a piano from somewhere deep in the house. She lifted her head, listening, as the seemingly random notes melded into a melody.
Heart and Soul.
We have fresh lemonade, Ben said from the doorway.
Whether it was his voice or the music that violently startled her, Anna couldnt say for sure. But she dropped the silver frame, and the glass shattered against the wood floor. She stared at it in horror. Oh, God. Im so sorry. She knelt quickly and began picking up the glass shards.
Ben set the drink aside and moved toward her. Dont bother with that. Ill take care of it later.
Im sorry, she said again. I didnt hear you come in.
I didnt mean to frighten you. His deep voice held a genuine note of regret.
That music. Annas hands were still trembling as she gazed up at him. Do you hear it?
He listened for a moment. Thats my stepdaughter, Gabriella. Shes warming up for her piano lesson. He knelt beside Anna and put his hand on her arm. Im serious. Dont worry about the glass. Ill clean it up later.
A thrill snaked up Annas arm at his touch. Their gazes met, his eyes darkened, and her stomach fluttered with awareness.
She tore her gaze from his and glanced down at Katherines picture, which lay faceup beneath the fragments of glass. The womans expression seemed at once amused and accusing, and Anna noticed suddenly that a tiny drop of blood was smeared across her features. Oh, no! Ive ruined the picture.
Ben shrugged. Therere plenty more around the house. Katherine was never camera shy. He reached out and took Annas hand in his. Youve cut yourself on the glass. Let me take a look.
He turned her hand over and studied the tiny sliver on her thumb. Its just a scratch, but youre still bleeding. Come on. Ill get you a Band-Aid.
No, Im fine The risk of infection was a constant concern since her transplant, and at any other time, Anna might have freaked about the cut. But now she was too distracted by the scars on Ben Porters right hand to worry about her own well-being. The scars were long and smooth and deep, like the one on his face. She gazed at them, feeling oddly stimulated by the sight.
He got up abruptly as if all too aware of her scrutiny. Come on. The bathroom is this way.