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eBook Category: Erotica/Fantasy
eBook Description: Compelled by her gift of 'sight' to search for a link to the past, Anna crosses paths with Simon, a man with a dark and tortured past who is as much of an enigma to her as the visions that haunt her. Certain that she is way out of her league with a man as handsome, wealthy, and worldly as Simon Weston, as a moth to the flame, she is drawn to him irresistibly. But is it benign fate that draws her to him? Or a dark cycle of love, passion, betrayal, and devastating loss that can never be broken? Rating: Contains graphic sexual content, explicit language, and graphic violence.

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2005

54 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.5 MB], eReader (PDB) [307 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [302 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [267 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [238 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [292 KB], hiebook (KML) [722 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [341 KB], iSilo (PDB) [247 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [309 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [347 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [390 KB]
Words: 97445
Reading time: 278-389 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1-58608-626-X

The car began its usual dance of death as Anna pulled to a stop beside the guard shack of the gated community. Coughing, spluttering and belching noxious gas from the tale pipe, it idled like an animal in its death throes, the engine shuddering so violently it bounced the entire car up and down hard enough to rattle her teeth together. Slipping the car into park, Anna put a foot on the gas pedal and eased down on it until the engine idled a little more smoothly and ceased threatening to die altogether. As it stopped sputtering and coughing, her fear of being stranded at the gate and having to be pushed out of the way subsided and the cold sweat that had popped from her pours dried in the scorching heat of the late summer's day in the deep south.

The guard looked Anna over suspiciously after he'd examined her business card.

"Wait here. I'll need to call Ms. Bridgewater and verify your appointment with her."

Anna nodded, tamping her irritation. He was new and she hadn't been to see Liz in a couple of weeks. She checked her gas gauge while she waited. Alarmed when she saw the needle dropping before her eyes, she eased off on the gas pedal, trying to calculate just how much gas she'd put in the car and how many miles she'd driven since. The gas gauge wasn't very accurate, which was why she always kept a gas can in the trunk with a gallon of gas in it, but if the tank went dry, she wasn't certain a gallon would get her to a gas station.

The wealthy families that lived in the gated community she was trying to get in to didn't want anything so low class as a gas station within miles of their mansions for fear they might catch a view of it if they happened to glance out of one of their windows.

"She was expecting you at 3:00 sharp," the guard said disapprovingly when he passed her card back to her.

"I had car trouble," Anna retorted sharply, losing her cool when the comment suggested she might have to turn around and drive back to the city without even seeing the woman. "If she's too busy to see me, she'll have to make another appointment, but it'll be at least a month before I can get back out this way." Or maybe never, she mentally amended because if she didn't get paid it was going to be tough coming up with gas money for another trip.

The guard looked a little taken aback by her reaction. "She said to come on back to the house."

"Good." Snatching her ragged business card from his fingers, Anna stuffed it into her jeans pocket and put the car in gear. She'd been too agitated to realize she still had her foot on the gas, though. The car bucked like a bronco, giving her instant whiplash as it jolted forward with a screech of bald tires and nearly died again when she slammed her foot down on the brake.

Thoroughly rattled by now, Anna shoved the car into neutral, gunned it a couple of times, and then put her foot on the brake before she put the car in gear again and chugged away from the guard shack. "Die on me you piece of shit and I'll set fire to you right here and walk back," she muttered under her breath as she fought the car around the first turn and gunned the engine again.

Between the horrendous heat and humidity, and frazzled nerves, she was wringing wet by the time she pulled up to the speaker outside the gates of the Bridgewater mansion and pushed the button. "Anna Lindstrom," she answered when a female voice with a Hispanic accent responded to her buzz.

The only acknowledgement was a mechanical whirr as the electronic gates began to open slowly inward like a theater curtain going up. Impatient with the delay, Anna studied the gates until they'd opened wide enough to admit the vehicle she laughingly referred to as a car and shot forward, almost taking out a bed of snapdragons beside the curving driveway. The gate that protected the service entrance was already open, she saw with relief when she finally reached the mansion itself and drove past the main entrance. Driving through the wide arch, she parked the car beneath the only shade she could find and dragged in a breath of super heated air, trying to calm her nerves a little before she got out. Grabbing up the bottle of tepid water she'd brought with her, she took a long drag at it and leaned out the open window to pour a small puddle in her palm to cool her heated face a little. It didn't help much, but the upside was it didn't take long to dry either and she didn't feel quite as sticky. Twisting the cap back on the bottle, she set it down on the seat and crawled across to get out of the passenger side.

The driver's door hadn't opened in several months. The handle on the passenger door was threatening to give up, too. Pretty soon she was going to have to climb through the window to get into or out of the damned car.

She counted her blessings. She was short and small boned, and thanks to her diet, or lack thereof, looked like someone from a third world country. If it came down to having to climb out a window, it wasn't going to be that difficult even though the car was a miniature compact that looked like a kiddy car--or more accurately since it looked like it would fall apart in a strong breeze, a clown car from a circus act.

Nan, her favorite foster mother, had always been fond of saying one could find a silver lining to anything if one looked hard enough. Growing up, all being undersized had meant was that any time she took it into her head to try to defend herself, she usually ended up getting the shit kicked out of her.

She was pleased that she'd finally found a silver lining.

She didn't doubt that she was on camera, but she scarcely gave it a thought as she raked her fingers through her hair and straightened her clothes.

It was amazing the things one could get used to with repetition. Abject poverty had a way of freeing a person from embarrassment over the 'little' things.

When she was satisfied that she was as presentable as she was going to get, she headed for the kitchen door and pressed the buzzer. A maid appeared after about five or ten minutes, just long enough to emphasis the fact that she was not important, and for the sun to begin scorching her back and buttocks through her clothes.

She shivered as she stepped into the climate controlled interior of the house. After the heat of the afternoon and being cooped up in her hot car for the long drive out entering the house was like stepping into a freezer. Her skin all over her body puckered and tightened, forming goose bumps on top of goose bumps.

By the time she was shown into the great room, she was clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering together.

A blond woman of indeterminate age wearing a brightly colored lounging jumpsuit awaited her. Curled on an ornate, overstuffed chaise that sat before the long row of French doors that opened onto a wide back patio, her fingers were tapping impatiently on the arm of the chair. "You're late," Ms. Bridgewater said chidingly by way of greeting.

"Sorry. I had a little car trouble."

The woman's thin, exquisitely maintained brows rose a notch as if in surprise.

She shouldn't have been. Every time Anna came she was late and it was always because she'd had car trouble.

"Maria, get Ms. Lindstrom something cold to drink. She looks like she's about to have heat stroke. What would you like?"

"Water, thank you."

Waving the maid off, Liz Bridgewater sat up in her chaise, drawing her legs up and indicating with a gesture that Anna should take a seat on the couch that sat at an angle to her chaise.

Anna looked at the couch a little doubtfully. Her clothes were still damp and the couch was white. "I'll just stretch my legs a minute if you don't mind," she said after a moment. "I've been driving for hours."

Liz's eyes narrowed speculatively. "So--you had another appointment?"

Anna glanced at the woman sharply. She might have known the woman would interpret that to mean that she'd been kept waiting for another client. Irritated, Anna decided to ditch the polite lie. "No. But the heat index is about a hundred and ten outside. My air conditioner is on the fritz, and I'm sweaty. I thought you might not like it if I got anything on your couch."

To her surprise, Liz chuckled. "Sit down. I'm not worried about it. Maria never has enough to do around here. She can clean it if you get anything on it."

Blushing, Anna sat. The rich were always so incredibly rude. More accurately, she supposed it was that they never seemed to realize they were being totally insensitive.

She pushed the thought aside. Today she was going to get paid and that meant she wasn't going to have to sleep in the car tonight. That was all that really mattered.

Maria returned with the glass of water and carefully placed a coaster on the coffee table before she set the glass down. Anna's throat instantly closed as her gaze zeroed in on the tall glass. Reaching for it as soon as the maid moved away, she took a couple of quick gulps. It was icy and brain freeze instantly set in. She set the glass down, resisting the urge to drain it and idly rubbing the pain between her eyes.

"You had some new pieces you wanted me to look at?"

"Just one."

Anna's heart dropped to her toes. One. She'd driven all the way out here and she might not even get enough money to pay her damned rent up to date.

With an effort, she pushed the thought from her mind as Liz picked up the case that lay on the table next to her chair and held it out. Jumping up from the couch, Anna moved close enough to take the case the woman held out, then returned to her seat and settled the box on the coffee table in front of her before she sat again. For several moments, she simply stared at the case, feeling tension coil tightly inside of her.

Whatever was in the box must be powerful, she decided. She rarely got this kind of vibe only from being close.

Was it whatever lay in the box? Or was it just that she was still jumpy from the ordeal of getting to Ms. Bridgewater's and worried now about how she was going to make rent?

She hardly ever felt uneasy about a reading any more, unless the piece had a particularly nasty history.

Scrubbing her clammy palms against her equally damp jeans in a lame attempt to dry them, she unfastened the latch and flipped the top back. The heavy wooden top slammed jarringly against the coffee table, which under other circumstances would have made her cringe. She scarcely even registered the noise or the possible damage.

She could do nothing but stare at the necklace inside, trying to catch her breath.

She had never seen anything quite like it. After a few stunned moments, she collected herself and dragged her gaze from the gleaming gold and jewel encrusted piece and looked at Liz Bridgewater.

Liz was sitting forward eagerly on the chaise now, her eyes almost feverish with excitement. "It's authentic, isn't it?"

Anna studied the older woman, realizing belatedly that she had noticed far more tension in Liz from the moment she'd come in than ever before. She'd just thought it was annoyance about her being late. Apparently, she'd misread the reason behind Liz's tension.

It occurred to her then that if Liz hadn't been so anxious, she most likely would have refused to honor the appointment on the grounds that Anna had been a good thirty minutes late in arriving.

When she saw a flicker of impatience entered the woman's eyes, she looked down at the necklace again, wondering at her reluctance to touch it. From out of no where, the temptation to refuse to read the piece had coiled in her stomach like a knotted fist. The piece was probably priceless, but she'd handled other pieces that were likely just as valuable and, despite the intricacy of the design, and its antiquity, it did not appear particularly fragile.

It didn't matter if it was. It didn't matter if touching made her ill, faint or gave her nightmares. Short of stopping her heart and relieving her of all her worries, she had to read it.

Without answering Liz's question, she took another gulp of water, wiped her hands on her jeans again and reached out to touch the piece. A jolt went through her instantly as her fingers made contact, as if she'd grabbed an electrified fence. Gasping at the magnitude of images and emotions bombarding her, Anna jerked her hand back.

"What is it?" Liz demanded in a harsh whisper. "You saw something, didn't you?"

White faced now, Anna turned toward the woman, but her mind was focused inward and she scarcely registered Liz or the room around her. Images moved around her mind's eye in a kaleidoscope of blurred colors. Torn between a reluctance to touch it again and some strange compulsion that made it impossible not to, she reached a shaking hand into the box again after a moment and grasped the piece more firmly. She would've thought it would be impossible to feel more than she'd felt before, but the shock that went through her the second time seemed almost to stop her heart in her chest before it set the muscle to racing at a frantic pace. Again, she was bombarded by a myriad of images and an avalanche of formidable emotions. This time, however, because she had gripped the piece in her palm, she could not fight the images off. They poured into her so rapidly she began to feel as if she was drowning.