Haunted by You by Liza Jonathan

Author:Liza Jonathan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liza Jonathan Romances

11

Their agreement for near live-in companionship now firmly established, Harper had grown more than a little used to the pure luxury of falling into a blissful night’s sleep with Alex. He cinched his arms happily around her as they spooned together in her enormous luxury bed. Nothing could be more relaxing, more perfect, or more safe.

But she wasn’t safe, even now. Harper drifted in the black as she dreamed, the whispers buzzing her brain, soft and beguiling. They pulled at her, sucking her under again to a world not fully her own.

Her anxiety rose, and she fought. “Alex,” she murmured, reaching out to him. Yes, he was there, the warm weight of his arm curled around her waist. He was with her. Thank God he was with her. It calmed her, lulled her. And as she drifted again, the whispers pulled her down-down-down.

She stood in a dark, claustrophobic hallway. Disembodied voices echoed in her ears. “He doesn’t love you.” They repeated and repeated, drilling into her brain like an accusation…a condemnation.

Her stomach roiled, and fury rose up in her. “Yes, he does! He told me so!” she screamed, curling her hands over her ears to blot out the hateful words. But they wouldn’t stop.

“Fool! You can never have a man like him!”

And the echoes repeated endlessly, a never-ending loop of self-loathing somehow coming from deep inside her mind.

No. Not her mind. Kate’s mind.

Oh, God, she was Kate again. Trapped in Kate’s body…and tangled in her troubled soul.

She put the flat of her hand to her churning stomach and discovered the corset binding her. She touched her face, her fingertips registering Kate’s finer, more elfin features. And all the pain Kate had endured in the first dream was magnified now, so searing, so personal that it felt like it had been written on her skin. Her heart ached in her chest like it might never beat again, and the air became too thick to breathe.

In the dimness she could make out the outline of shadowy Victorian doors. She had to leave this place. She must! Running down the endless corridor now, panic gripped her lungs like a vise. She pounded on the luxurious woodwork of one towering door after another, frantically rattling their carved brass knobs. But nothing would open.

The corridor stretched and yawned and lengthened until she saw a door at the very end, a door that glowed with light and warmth. She ran to it, the strike of her delicate boot heels echoing behind her. The knob turned under her hand, and the door swung wide, revealing a bright room, richly paneled and stately, strewn with expensive oriental rugs and lit with gas lamps made of the finest crystal. The smell of roasted meat and the music of a string quartet traveled over the air while guests milled about in elegant, formal attire. This was the Mecom mansion.

John.

John was here, wasn’t he? That was surely why she was here. She had to find him. Desperate now, she ran down the entryway, but a white-haired man in a simple tuxedo stopped her, grabbing her by the wrists.

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