Phantom Lover

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Phantom Lover Page 21

by Rebecca York


  She felt suspended in time, suspended in a world that was not her own, where the laws of nature were different from this earth.

  Her heart began to pound as she realized that something else was happening. Like that first time she had come here. She felt it deep in her bones, in her soul. In her heart.

  A dozen yards away pine needles rustled and then flared away from the ground in a sudden updraft.

  Transfixed, Bree watched the debris swirl in a spiral pattern, then whip away among the trees. The circle of wind gathered speed and force like a cyclone collecting more and more swirling matter. She had seen Troy step out of the cyclone here in this grove. But sight was impossible now. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to protect them as the air howled around her head like a human cry of agony—or triumph.

  She could hear the wind gathering force, tearing at the tree branches, and real fear shot through her. She was rooted to the spot, until the swirling mass of debris caught her in its grasp and spun her around, making her lose all sense of direction as she struggled to stay on her feet.

  Dizzy, disoriented, she reached out a hand, groping for a tree trunk, as she tried to steady herself. For a terrible moment her hands clutched at nothing, and she thought the wind might fling her out of the grove and over the cliff.

  Then she felt something solid, and grasped for purchase. It wasn’t tree bark she felt. Not at all. Instead her fingers closed around flannel fabric.

  “What—” Her exclamation ended in a gasp as she was pulled tightly against a man’s hard body.

  “Troy?” she breathed, unable to see him in the whirling vortex, unable to believe that the unbelievable was happening.

  By some miracle, could this really be him? Or was this whole episode just some trick of her fevered imagination? Some fantasy she’d conjured up out of her own pain because she wanted him so much, and she couldn’t bear the idea of living without him.

  He held her more tightly as the wind rocked them, pressed them together, and then whipped away, leaving the tree branches trembling in its wake.

  Breathlessly, she waited for the illusion to fade away, but his body stayed real and solid against her. And she dared to let the tiny kernel of hope inside her grow and bloom.

  Cautiously, she tipped her head up and opened her eyes, then blinked as his tanned face and windblown hair filled her vision.

  She gasped, her hands clenching and unclenching on his shoulders. The whirlwind had vanished, but Troy was here. Troy was holding her in his embrace.

  She breathed his name, then said it more loudly as she clasped him to her, trembling as a great swell of relief and shock washed over her—even when her mind still questioned if this was reality or only her desperate longing.

  “Bree.” He sounded as astonished as she felt. And as he whispered her name, his arms banded around her.

  She pressed her face to his chest, breathing in the spicy scent of his body, then raised her face to stare at him. “How… Where did you come from?”

  He blinked and looked around in wonder, then reached to pluck a strand of moss from her hair. “I don’t know. I was somewhere dark and cold, then the wind grabbed me up and brought me here.”

  Her fingers dug into his arms as she struggled to take in what had happened—what must have happened. “Oh, Troy… You’re here. You’re here!”

  For long moments they clung together, holding each other, touching, their lips brushing, clinging, then breaking apart again so that they could gasp out each other’s names. Tears blurred her vision again, but now they were tears of joy.

  He brushed a drop of moisture away with his knuckle. “Don’t cry. I’m here.”

  “I know. Oh, I know,” she answered, finally daring to believe it was true.

  She dragged in a breath and struggled for coherence. “What’s the last thing you remember before the dark place?” she asked.

  “I remember the storm.”

  She nodded tightly.

  “Then I came to the schoolroom to say goodbye to you and Dinah.”

  “We didn’t see you.”

  “I didn’t let you see me.”

  She grasped him more tightly. He was so real, so solid, yet he had felt that way to her before. Only this was different, she suddenly realized with a sense of relief. The look in his eyes was different. Always before he’d looked as if he was gazing at her from a far distance. But not now.

  There were questions she didn’t want to ask. But she needed answers. “You told me you were a ghost,” she murmured.

  He dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. “Maybe I was. I remember I felt so numb, so disoriented.” He reached up to gingerly touch the back of his head. “I guess it has something to do with this big lump back here.”

  Carefully she reached up and found the spot, feeling the injury. “You were hurt.”

  “Yeah. I think I lost my memory for a while. Then I saw you at Ravencrest, and when I came to you, I started remembering stuff. Not everything at first, but bits and pieces.” She saw him swallow. “The first thing I remembered was how much I wanted you. Then I remembered it was more than that. It was love.”

  “Oh, Troy.” She still didn’t understand what had happened. He’d shown her what he said was Troy London’s grave. But maybe he’d only thought that was true. Or maybe God had given him a second chance to come back and love her.

  She’d been sure that he was lost to her forever. Now she had him back, in her arms, and she would keep him for whatever time she was allotted. When he bent his head and kissed her with a fierce possessiveness, she kissed him back.

  He hugged her to him, rocked her in his arms. “I want you.”

  “Yes,” she answered as he bent to press his face to the tops of her breasts. “But not now. Not out here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have a plane reservation. And my friend Alex will come looking for me if I don’t go back to the house.”

  “Alex? You’ve got a friend here named Alex?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

  “Yes. A happily married man. He came to Ravencrest to help me take care of things. Like showing the police where to find the bodies of Mrs. Martindale and Foster Graves. And like making sure your sister was arrested the minute she set foot in San Francisco.”

  She felt him stiffen.

  “Do you know how Mrs. Martindale and Graves died?” she asked.

  “I think they fell over the cliff in the storm.”

  “Yes. A convenient accident,” she murmured.

  He nodded gravely. “We’re rid of them now.” For a long moment his eyes were focused toward the ocean, then swung back to her. “It’s a miracle. You came back to me.”

  “I think it’s the other way around, but we won’t argue about it.” As she spoke she slid her hands possessively over his back, his shoulders, unable to get enough of the feel of him under her fingertips.

  “I loved you when you were a college girl. I love the woman you’ve become.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He framed her face with his hands. “Oh, Bree, let’s not waste any more time. We’ve lost seven years. I don’t want to lose seven more hours with you. Marry me and live here with me.” He stopped. “That is, if you like Ravencrest enough to live here.”

  “I love it.”

  He gathered her close. “You’re wonderful with Dinah. You’ll make a wonderful mother for her.”

  “And our other children,” she supplied.

  “Yes.”

  “Of course I’ll marry you. I’ve loved you for so long. I thought I couldn’t have you. But everything’s changed.”

  “Yes, everything,” he agreed. Then his face turned serious. “Money is going to be tight for a while.”

  “I know. I read your letters to Helen. But I don’t mind. I could live on bread crumbs if it’s with you.”

  He laughed. “Things aren’t quite that bad.”

  He slung his arm around her shoulders and they started back to the house.


  “What am I going to tell Alex?”

  He laughed. “That you’re not going back to Baltimore, after all.”

  “What do I tell him—and everybody else—about you?”

  He thought for a moment. “That I had amnesia. That I was pretty out of it for a while. But your coming here made all the difference. Your love made all the difference. You brought me back to myself.”

  She squeezed his hand, and he knit his fingers with hers. Everything had changed, and she was still trying to catch her breath. But she clung to one momentous reality. The man she loved was with her.

  They were walking fast now, hurrying toward the house. “Dinah will be so glad to see you,” Bree said. “I can’t wait to see her face when we walk in.”

  “Yes.” He laughed again. He was doing that a lot, and she sensed the freedom in him.

  “Yes,” he said again, and this time it was an affirmation. “The three of us are a family now. Right from this moment on.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-4078-0

  PHANTOM LOVER

  Copyright © 2003 by Ruth Glick

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  *43 Light Street

  † Peregrine Connection

  ** 43 Light Street/Mine To Keep

 

 

 


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