Confessions of the Heart

She’d pulled her blond hair back in the same French twist she’d worn for ages, a style that had once made her look cool and sophisticated, she’d 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 man’s gaze moved back up to her face. There was something in his eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite define, that spiked Anna’s 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 don’t look well.”

“It’s 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 she’d dreamed about so intimately…

Oh, my God!

Anna tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help herself. Finding him here, in Katherine Sprague’s house, jolted her.

“Maybe you’d better come inside and wait for Gwen.” His tone had warmed slightly even though Anna knew he’d been aware of her reaction. And he undoubtedly thought it was because of his appearance.

“I—I don’t want to impose.” Anna was stunned to find herself stammering. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so disconcerted.

“And I don’t want you passing out on my doorstep.” He stepped back and motioned her inside. “We can hear Gwen’s car in the drive when she gets home. Come in,” he insisted when Anna still hesitated. “I won’t 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 dеcor, 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. “I’m Gwen’s brother-in-law.”

“How do you do?” Anna recognized his name from Tom’s research. He was an ex-cop who’d 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 he’d barely glanced in her direction, he’d sparked something inside her. She’d 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 couldn’t 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….

He’d haunted her dreams. So how could he possibly be a stranger?

A deep awareness flooded through Anna, and she trembled. She had Katherine’s heart. Did she also have some of her memories?

No, of course not! It wasn’t possible. A heart was just an organ. Tissue and muscle. It couldn’t retain memory. And yet…

Could it really be just a bizarre coincidence that she’d 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 you’re okay? Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you something cold to drink?”

“No, please don’t bother,” Anna managed to say. “I’ve already put you to too much trouble as it is.”

“By letting you come in out of the heat?” He shrugged. “That’s not a problem.”

“But I’m 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. I’ll be right back.”

Anna watched him disappear through the arched doorway, and then she turned, gazing around. An ornate bombе 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.

She’d 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 couldn’t 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. I’m so sorry.” She knelt quickly and began picking up the glass shards.

Ben set the drink aside and moved toward her. “Don’t bother with that. I’ll take care of it later.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His deep voice held a genuine note of regret.

“That music.” Anna’s hands were still trembling as she gazed up at him. “Do you hear it?”

He listened for a moment. “That’s my stepdaughter, Gabriella. She’s warming up for her piano lesson.” He knelt beside Anna and put his hand on her arm. “I’m serious. Don’t worry about the glass. I’ll clean it up later.”

A thrill snaked up Anna’s 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 Katherine’s picture, which lay faceup beneath the fragments of glass. The woman’s expression seemed at once amused and accusing, and Anna noticed suddenly that a tiny drop of blood was smeared across her features. “Oh, no! I’ve ruined the picture.”

Ben shrugged. “There’re plenty more around the house. Katherine was never camera shy.” He reached out and took Anna’s hand in his. “You’ve cut yourself on the glass. Let me take a look.”

He turned her hand over and studied the tiny sliver on her thumb. “It’s just a scratch, but you’re still bleeding. Come on. I’ll get you a Band-Aid.”

“No, I’m 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 Porter’s 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.”

He led her down the hallway to a spacious powder room furnished in pink, gold and ivory. The dеcor in here was less exotic and utterly feminine, and Ben seemed overpoweringly masculine against the plush surroundings.

While he opened a gilded mirrored door and collected a box of Band-Aids and a bottle of antiseptic, Anna studied the chiseled line of his profile, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, giving just a hint of vulnerability to an otherwise dark and brooding face. Shifting her gaze slightly, she saw that he was watching her watch him in the mirror.

A frown flickered across his brow, and Anna knew at once he thought she’d been staring at his scar. She hadn’t been. She hadn’t even noticed it.

It was his eyes that held her attention. Those lips…

The nerve endings connected to her heart had been severed during surgery. Her reaction to extreme emotion would be different from now on, Michael had warned her. So how was it possible that her new heart could pound so hard at Ben Porter’s mere presence?