CHAPTER 1

He raced toward her out of the dark and the dust. White robes spread in the hot wind like wings of a ghostly bird of prey. His sword, held high, caught the sun's last rays and bled light across the shadowed desert.

Caught, Faith Webb raised her hands to protect herself. With her foot and ankle held in the grip of immovable rock, she struggled to break free.

Her heart pounded in her throat. Screaming wouldn't help. There was nobody nearby but her relentless pursuer.

Cold fire glimmered in his midnight blue eyes framed by a slash of tanned skin. The headdress and veil wrapped close hid the rest of his face.

His deadly sword flashed once more as it swung in an arc toward her...

Dazed, she woke with a muffled cry. Who was this robed figure haunting her dreams? Other nights he'd been a shadowy image invading her sleep. Tonight, he'd been clearer by far.

Faith's stomach clenched. Many of her most vivid dreams had come true. Would this one become a frightening reality?

Questions tumbled through her mind as she sat up and looked around her familiar bedroom. She'd selected the delicate furniture, painted the walls a soothing, whisper blue, and hung white lace curtains under sapphire and rose drapes.

Her apartment was the one place she could call her own, the one place that provided serenity and peace.

Drawn by the view from her bedroom window, Faith slid out of bed, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and crossed the blue and cream rug. She inhaled the moist, early morning breeze as it rippled past the curtains.

Then, gazing out at the constant ebb and flow of the Pacific, she saw another ocean, a sun-bronzed expanse of rippling desert sand, and her serenity shattered.

"This is nuts," she muttered. "The closest I've been to that much sand was my trip from San Diego to Yuma."

Impatient with her own imagination, Faith collected her lingerie and hurried into the bathroom to shower.

Later, feeling more her normal self, she worked the last hairpin into the neat roll of auburn hair at the nape of her neck. With a sigh she pushed at the rebellious waves already working loose and wondered, again, why she bothered with long hair.

Another question to add to my already long list, she thought, studying her reflection in the mirror. Where did those waves come from? For that matter, where did her hazel eyes originate?

Faith looked at her parents' photograph. Her mother's sleek, ebony-colored hair was cut in a fashionable swing, framing her oval face and dark brown eyes. Beside her stood Blaine. His blond, neatly styled hair, blue eyes, and conservative suit gave the impression of a solid, intelligent banker or lawyer. That was her father all right, Faith thought, an attorney whose biggest client was the local bank.

The first time she'd asked her mother why her hair and eye color were different from either parent had been in her early teens. Apparently annoyed, her mother had given some vague answer about a distant ancestor. The next time she'd asked, her mother had shown her a copy of the birth certificate, with Blaine and Marcia Webb registered as parents of Faith Marie Webb.

With a shrug, Faith moved away from the photo and put aside her questions. Laurie Spencer would be in early today. They had new shipments to unpack and inventory.

It was time for the more practical matters of a quick breakfast, her decision to lose five pounds, and another day in her specialty shop, Deserts of the Heart.

Copyright © 2002 by Barbara Clark