Phantom Lover. Rebecca York

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СКАЧАТЬ she drifted toward the window and looked out. She’d approached the estate from the land side, where tall pines and probably redwoods had blocked her view. From this angle, she could see that the mansion was perched on the edge of a high cliff overlooking the sea. Moonlight gave her a view of waves rolling in, crashing against hidden obstructions and dark spires of rocks that poked up from the foam.

      Far below she could hear the ebb and flow of the surf.

      All at once the realization hit her that this was Troy’s house. He had loved this place. Maybe he’d even stood at this very window looking down at the rocky coast. Until this moment she hadn’t allowed herself to think much about what coming to his home would mean for her. But suddenly she felt close to him, closer than she had in years.

      Seven years ago he’d told her about his home. He’d entranced her with his stories of exploring the cliffs and the sea caves that were accessible only at low tide and of his sailing expeditions into the wild waters offshore. She’d wanted to come here with him. She’d even secretly dreamed of living here—as his wife.

      “Troy,” she breathed, wishing that he was with her in this room. She remembered him so well, remembered how her first sight of him had taken her breath away. He’d walked into the parlor to greet her and Helen, and she’d found herself facing a tall, handsome man with tanned skin and wind-tossed hair that was just a beat too long. She’d taken him in in one swift draft, then focused on his eyes. They were vibrant hazel, fringed by dark lashes. And they’d turned warm when he’d looked at her.

      “I’m Troy. And you must be Helen’s friend Bonnie,” he said.

      “Yes. I’ve heard so much about you.”

      He smiled. “And I’ve heard about you. But I wasn’t prepared for that charming Southern accent.”

      She’d blushed then, but he’d put her at ease immediately. Over the next few days they’d spent a lot of time together. Maybe too much time, as far as Helen was concerned, because she’d complained that Troy was monopolizing her friend.

      One of her most vivid memories was of dancing with him, instinctively following the subtle signals of his body as he’d led her around the front porch of the London summer home.

      Then there was the time he had come up behind her, turned her in his arms and shocked her by lowering his mouth to hers.

      The thought made her skin tingle. Then she realized that in fact she was shivering from the cool air.

      Don’t get all wound up with fantasies, she told herself. Troy may not even be here. And if he is, he’s not the same man you knew all those years ago. And you’re not the same, either. Maybe he liked you better the way you were. Or maybe not. Back then, she hadn’t had the gumption to reach out for what she wanted. She wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake again. Not if she could make things come out the way she wanted them.

      Pulling the drapes firmly across the window, she quickly crossed to the bed and climbed between the sheets, tugging the covers up to her chin. For a moment she felt as though she had let Helen down. Almost everything that had happened since she’d arrived had been out of her control. But she’d change that in the morning, she vowed.

      In a few minutes her own body heat began to warm her and her mind began to drift. Soon sleep claimed her.

      AS HE HAD SO OFTEN in the past few weeks, he stood on the cliff. Dangerously close to the edge, yet he felt no fear. Heights had never bothered him, and the sound of breakers crashing against the shoreline had always soothed him. Those were some of the things he remembered.

      Mist swirled around him as he gazed down at the water pounding against the rocks fifty feet below. He had been drawn back to this spot, again and again. Below him was the stairway that led to the landing dock.

      He had climbed that stairway a few weeks ago. He remembered that much. Then…

      Suddenly it seemed important to grasp on to that memory, but it flitted away, as had so many of the thoughts that drifted through his mind like autumn leaves floating on a slow-running stream.

      A man and a woman had come here. He remembered that.

      They had told him… What?

      Done what?

      He didn’t know. Perhaps he didn’t want to know. Because on some hidden level, he sensed danger in the memory. It could hurt him badly. Like the blow on the head.

      He remembered the pain and the blackness that had swallowed him up.

      He shoved that memory aside, too. There was a strange kind of comfort in the blank space that took its place. A cold comfort. If he didn’t know, perhaps it wasn’t true.

      And then there was the guilt. It was always with him. But it didn’t choke off his breath now, because he couldn’t remember what it was he had done. He just knew it was something very bad. He could feel it trying to sneak up on him and he clenched his eyes closed, willing it not to capture his mind.

      As he’d prayed it would, the wisp of a memory flitted away. He stood very still, lifting his face to the wind, welcoming the chill.

      Again, by force of will, he brought his attention to the present. To the newcomer, the woman who had arrived by car.

      He had seen her, touched her shoulder. And for a little space of time, the tight, cold place inside his heart had loosened.

      She had told them her name was Bree Brennan. Or was it Bonnie?

      That sounded more familiar. Or maybe his memory was wrong.

      His damn defective memory. Sometimes it was a curse and sometimes a blessing.

      Another image worked its way into his mind. The child. Dinah. He had talked to her, drawn solace from her, given her comfort. At least he thought he had, though he couldn’t bring any of their recent conversations into sharp focus. But he sensed a connection with her. A longing. A need to keep her safe and to protect her.

      It was part of the guilt.

      But that wasn’t why he had gone to her room. Over and over. He needed to see her, to watch her sleep and to assure himself that she was still safe.

      Quickly, he found his way down from the cliff, into the house, into the child’s bedroom, where he stood beside her bed, gazing down at her.

      She stirred in her sleep but didn’t waken. He reached out a hand, then let it fall back to his side. Better not to disturb her now. He would let her be.

      But the woman…

      He would go to the woman. She had come back to him at last. The thought of her set off a humming in his head. An eagerness. An urgency. A need to recapture the past.

      BREE’S EYES SNAPPED open.

      Fear leaped inside her chest as she fought to remember where she was. Then, from below her, she heard the crashing of waves against solid rock, and recent events flashed through her mind: the flight from Baltimore, the drive from San Francisco, Ravencrest and everyone she had encountered since arriving at this cold, massive house.

      Her jaw clenched. She made an effort to relax and almost succeeded, until it registered that the room was СКАЧАТЬ