Page 5 of Dreams That Bind Us
James heaved a prolonged sigh, frustration eating at his gut. He wanted to tear the town apart to find Anna, not wait and see.
Anna… The name suited her, delicate and petite just like she’d been in his dreams.
Anna raced down the alley, barreling around the corner and nearly colliding with several pedestrians. She slipped into the nearest doorway, plastering herself against the wall. She held a shaking hand to her racing heart and tried to catch her breath, praying he hadn't followed her.
Oh my god! He's real. He's REAL and he's HERE! In Key West!
She groaned and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. This was her worst nightmare—quite literally. It could not be happening.
From now on, safely roaming around the island would be a distant memory. She would always worry about running into him again.
And that look in his eye…
She shivered as a wave of fear and lust washed over her at the memory of his gaze. She'd seen it the night before in another dream that left her breathless and begging for more. It was as if he was a sorcerer, conjuring a curse tailor-made for her.
Inhaling through her nose, she tried to calm herself by focusing on the air filling her lungs and then slowly exhaling, over and over, pulling in breath after cooling breath.
She jumped, her eyes popping open at the sound of heels clacking on the wood floor, moving swiftly toward her.
"Anna? Is that you?"
Anna sighed in relief, sagging against the rough brick wall as she realized she’d run into a nearby art gallery. It was the gallery manager who’d approached her.
"Hi, Becky." Her hand trembled as she swiped it across her forehead. "I just stopped by to cool off for a second. It's gonna be another scorcher out there today."
Becky's brow puckered, but she nodded her agreement. "Yeah, I guess so. Is everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
A bubble of nervous laughter escaped Anna's lips.
A ghost? She didn't fear ghosts, she'd been acquainted with them throughout her life. But her dream lover? He may as well be a demon haunting her, seeking to possess her body and soul.
To learn that he not only existed but was also in Key West was a shocking twist. And Annette knew him, which made it only a matter of time before questions would be asked. Questions for which she had no answer.
James—his name was James. If she wanted, she could always stop by Paradise West to see what Annette would be willing to divulge about him.
Nope, not a chance. Nothing good could ever come from that.
"Oh, no. I'm fine." She fanned her face with her hands, trying to calm the flush that she knew for certain made her face look like it was on fire. Her lips curved in a forced smile. "Just feeling a little stressed. I have a big order due first thing next week and it's a lot to manage right now."
Becky nodded, her eyes soft with sympathy. "I understand. Your furniture is in big demand." She indicated the corner where several of Anna's pieces sat.
"I had a client in here yesterday, a very wealthy transplant from New York, who promised to stop by later today to buy your entire collection." A twinkle of amusement flitted through her gaze. "I'd made a note to call you this afternoon to see what else you could spare to fill the void we'll have in the gallery. I mean, we could easily go with any other artist on the island, but yourfurniture has that perfect twist of eclectic and classy that our patrons absolutely love."
"Um…" Anna rubbed the spot over her heart, relieved as she felt her pulse lower. Discussing her art was always soothing. "I have a few odds and ends in my warehouse that could work."
That was certainly true. Her workshop was littered with pieces she wasn't ready to relinquish or that didn’t meet her standard of excellence. "Would you send me an email so I'll remember to set them aside for you?"
"Of course." Becky motioned to their left. "Would you like to use the bathroom? It looks like you spilled coffee all over yourself."
Anna glanced down, and sure enough, her white tank top was completely saturated with brown liquid. She'd been in such a state of panic after running into James and escaping as quickly as possible that she'd hardly noticed the catastrophe that was her shirt.
"Oh, crap." She cringed as she pulled the wet, and possibly ruined, tank away from her skin. Thankfully, the coffee hadn't been hot enough to burn. It was now a cold, sticky sensation that grated on her frazzled nerves. "Thanks, Becky. That might be a good idea."
Anna closed the bathroom door and locked it. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and recoiled. Good lord!
She looked like a crazy woman, and rightfully so. It had been a jolt, learning that her tormentor was a living, breathing man, not just a figment of her imagination.
But what had shocked Anna the most was that he'd seemed to recognizeher. That fierce gleam in his eyes had been so familiar. Was it possible they were having the same dreams?
