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Borrowed Identity

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Год написания книги
2018
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She gently pushed his hand away. “I feel fine.”

“Then why is your breathing erratic?”

Kelly swallowed hard. What was wrong with her? Michael hadn’t cared about her scars. Outside of Wade, he had been the one person she could open up to. So why did she feel uneasy with him all of a sudden?

“It was a rhetorical question,” he said. “I don’t expect an answer.”

“Good.” She inched her way along the wall, moving sideways past the staircase. “Can you tell me something?”

“What?” His eyebrow arched.

“Do you love me, Michael?” she asked.

There was an obvious hesitation, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer her question.

“Yes or no!” A voice at the back of her mind screamed at her not to ask. “It’s a simple question.”

“Sure I do.” He said the words without feeling or depth. He replied as one would to a child in need of humoring.

I never wanted you. It was a joke. You’re a joke.

The words shot through her like a bullet, bringing a searing pain with them. Kelly’s hands flew to her temples. Palms pressed hard against the sides of her head, she held it tightly, fearing it would explode. A soft whimper floated to her ears.

It was her. She was moaning while slowly sliding down the wall.

Hands enclosed her upper arms and tugged her up again. Her back scraped against the wall behind her as Michael used it to keep her from falling.

“What’s happening? Talk to me!” he demanded.

The pain receded, and she gasped for breath. Every thought had been forced from her mind. She couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking at the time the pain had hit, striking like a bolt of lightning out of a pure blue sky.

Michael held her close to his chest as if she was a precious treasure, and she could feel his heart beating beneath the palm of her hand. She was afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell of the moment. The tension she’d been feeling in his presence was gone now. She felt safe and cherished. She didn’t want to move.

Kelly rested her head against him. Her equilibrium hadn’t returned yet. A few more easy breaths and she would be fine.

“Kelly, are you all right? Can you talk to me?”

She looked up at him. His dark eyes were filled with concern. He couldn’t possibly be faking the emotion. It was too raw, too powerful. Michael really did care about her.

“What’s wrong with me?” She asked the question in wonder, her mind a mass of confusion.

“You need to lie down,” he said. “I’ll help you upstairs.”

She wanted to argue with him. The idea of being in her room filled her with dread, but her vocal cords didn’t cooperate.

Michael swung her into his arms and carried her. She wanted to fight him, fight her deepening dependence on him, but she rested her head against his hard shoulder. He was a good man, and she was a paranoid dope for suspecting him of being anything less than wonderful.

The feel of his strong arms holding her close was too good to be real. She could happily close her eyes and melt into him. They would become one entity…

She silently berated herself. Was she a hopeless romantic or what?

Michael left her on her bed after asking if she wanted anything from the kitchen. She felt bereft, abandoned without those strong arms around her. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay, but she wasn’t going to be a clingy female. If he wanted to stay, he would.

She told him she just needed a bit of rest. The drug would clear out of her system and she would be able to focus once more. She longed to feel normal again. The woolly, disassociated sensation that dragged at her body soon would be a thing of the past. A little sleep and she would be fine.

When he’d left the room she groaned, realizing she needed to use the bathroom. Kelly struggled out of bed. She’d managed to take two steps when her bare foot landed on a hard, tiny, pebble-like object. It hurt.

She moved her foot and stared down, trying to find the offending item. She had bent over when a small white bead caught her eye. She picked it up and studied it. It appeared to be a small pearl. But where had it come from?

The answer floated up from the depths of her subconscious, an unwanted epiphany. She tried to deny it access, but her mind opened, spilling a recent memory. Her wedding gown had been covered with tiny pearls.

But the wedding dress had been part of a dream.

She knelt down on the floor. Sweeping her hands over it with long, desperate movements. She managed to find three more tiny pearls.

Kelly scowled at the white beads in her hand. If her wedding was a dream, then where had the pearls come from? If it hadn’t been a dream, why was Michael lying to her?

Chapter Three

The next morning, after pulling on faded jeans and a pink angora sweater, Kelly reluctantly went downstairs. Before leaving the sanctuary of her bedroom she placed the tiny pearls in a trinket box on top of her dresser. Asking Michael about them wouldn’t do her any good if he was lying to her. She had to find a way to trick him into admitting the truth.

Kelly stood in the foyer and wondered about Michael. Where was he? A small part of her hoped he had left the house and her behind. But she knew if he was gone, she would miss him horribly. Her feelings for him were muddled, melding together in terrible confusion. Did she love him or didn’t she?

It would be nice if she made up her mind before the wedding, she thought derisively.

She was tired, having spent the night tossing and turning, afraid to sleep for fear of nightmares. Several times she had heard strange noises in the walls. Most nights the sounds didn’t bother her. They were to be expected in a place as old as Moore House. But last night, layered on top of her fears, every strange sound vibrated through her entire being, chilling her to the marrow.

Several times during the night she had almost gone running to Michael’s bedroom, like a little child hoping to crawl into bed with her parents after a particularly bad nightmare.

Somehow she’d held her ground. She was an adult, not a child. She could handle a few bumps in the night on her own.

Michael stepped into the foyer, startling her. He stopped next to her, so close his proximity made her nervous. But he appeared to be going somewhere. He was wearing his denim jacket and his feet were encased in work boots. A set of keys was dangling from his hand. Good fortune was smiling on Kelly now. Maybe he would stay away. She was supposed to marry the man in a month. How could she? Being in the same room with him made her feel like a nervous cat in a dog pound.

“Leaving?” she asked, a thread of hope in her voice.

“I’m going into town for supplies. Is there anything you need?”

Privacy, she wanted to reply. Her uneasiness grew. She wanted him to leave, but at the same time she knew she would race after him if he did. She had too much invested in him to call off the wedding now.

“I don’t need anything,” she said with a sigh.

“Are you sure?” His piercing brown eyes stared straight at her, through her, as if he was trying to read her mind. “The forecast is for snow. I heard it on the radio early this morning. I don’t know how reliable the weathermen are in these parts, but I think we should be cautious. If we get as many inches as they’re predicting, we’ll be trapped inside for a while.”

She shivered. His last words echoed in her mind. She didn’t want to be trapped in Moore House with him. There were more than forty rooms, yet the place felt far too small for the two of them.

“I…” She turned away, unable to look into those bottomless eyes and think at the same time. “I guess we need staples. Get food that won’t need refrigeration in case the electricity goes out. Canned goods. Dried milk. The usual.”

His hand settled on her shoulder as if he sensed her need to put distance between them. She froze beneath the gentle pressure. Her breathing quickened. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
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