Amanda Stevens - Confessions of the Heart

Her gaze flickered back to Ben Porter. She suspected he had his own secrets, and she couldn’t help wondering what it would take to unmask them. A kiss?

Almost against her will, she lifted fingertips to lips that were unexpectedly tingling. She knew, suddenly, what it would feel like to be kissed by this man. She knew his touch, his scent….

He’d haunted her dreams. So how could he possibly be a stranger?

A deep awareness flooded through Anna, and she trembled. She had Katherine’s heart. Did she also have some of her memories?

No, of course not! It wasn’t possible. A heart was just an organ. Tissue and muscle. It couldn’t retain memory. And yet…

Could it really be just a bizarre coincidence that she’d seen Ben Porter that day in the elevator, felt the impact of his presence, and now their paths had crossed yet again? Here, of all places…

His gaze turned quizzical. “Are you sure you’re okay? Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you something cold to drink?”

“No, please don’t bother,” Anna managed to say. “I’ve already put you to too much trouble as it is.”

“By letting you come in out of the heat?” He shrugged. “That’s not a problem.”

“But I’m interrupting your afternoon. Maybe I should come back another time.”

“No need for that. Gwen should be home soon.” He gazed at her for a moment longer, and then turned toward the door. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

Anna watched him disappear through the arched doorway, and then she turned, gazing around. An ornate bombé chest on the far side of the room held a ceramic vase of orchids and several antique picture frames. Anna walked over and studied the photographs, then reached out and picked up one. It was the same black-and-white shot of Katherine that had been used on the jacket cover of her books.

She’d been an extraordinarily beautiful woman. A statuesque brunette with wide, dark eyes and full, sensuous lips. A woman of passions…

As Anna studied the photograph, she gradually became aware of the faint tinkle of a piano from somewhere deep in the house. She lifted her head, listening, as the seemingly random notes melded into a melody.

Heart and Soul.

“We have fresh lemonade,” Ben said from the doorway.

Whether it was his voice or the music that violently startled her, Anna couldn’t say for sure. But she dropped the silver frame, and the glass shattered against the wood floor. She stared at it in horror. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She knelt quickly and began picking up the glass shards.

Ben set the drink aside and moved toward her. “Don’t bother with that. I’ll take care of it later.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His deep voice held a genuine note of regret.

“That music.” Anna’s hands were still trembling as she gazed up at him. “Do you hear it?”

He listened for a moment. “That’s my stepdaughter, Gabriella. She’s warming up for her piano lesson.” He knelt beside Anna and put his hand on her arm. “I’m serious. Don’t worry about the glass. I’ll clean it up later.”

A thrill snaked up Anna’s arm at his touch. Their gazes met, his eyes darkened, and her stomach fluttered with awareness.

She tore her gaze from his and glanced down at Katherine’s picture, which lay faceup beneath the fragments of glass. The woman’s expression seemed at once amused and accusing, and Anna noticed suddenly that a tiny drop of blood was smeared across her features. “Oh, no! I’ve ruined the picture.”

Ben shrugged. “There’re plenty more around the house. Katherine was never camera shy.” He reached out and took Anna’s hand in his. “You’ve cut yourself on the glass. Let me take a look.”

He turned her hand over and studied the tiny sliver on her thumb. “It’s just a scratch, but you’re still bleeding. Come on. I’ll get you a Band-Aid.”

“No, I’m fine—” The risk of infection was a constant concern since her transplant, and at any other time, Anna might have freaked about the cut. But now she was too distracted by the scars on Ben Porter’s right hand to worry about her own well-being. The scars were long and smooth and deep, like the one on his face. She gazed at them, feeling oddly stimulated by the sight.

He got up abruptly as if all too aware of her scrutiny. “Come on. The bathroom is this way.”

He led her down the hallway to a spacious powder room furnished in pink, gold and ivory. The décor in here was less exotic and utterly feminine, and Ben seemed overpoweringly masculine against the plush surroundings.

While he opened a gilded mirrored door and collected a box of Band-Aids and a bottle of antiseptic, Anna studied the chiseled line of his profile, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, giving just a hint of vulnerability to an otherwise dark and brooding face. Shifting her gaze slightly, she saw that he was watching her watch him in the mirror.

A frown flickered across his brow, and Anna knew at once he thought she’d been staring at his scar. She hadn’t been. She hadn’t even noticed it.

It was his eyes that held her attention. Those lips…

The nerve endings connected to her heart had been severed during surgery. Her reaction to extreme emotion would be different from now on, Michael had warned her. So how was it possible that her new heart could pound so hard at Ben Porter’s mere presence?

He turned slowly to face her, his gaze deep, probing. “You seem familiar to me.” He searched her features, lifting a hand as if to smooth back her hair, but he didn’t touch her even though Anna wanted him to. More than anything. She suddenly ached for his touch. “Have we met before?” he asked in a puzzled voice.

She shook her head, unable to speak. Unable for a moment to even breathe. What was going on here? What was wrong with her? How could she react so strongly to a man she’d just met? How could she want him…when she knew nothing about him?

Something odd happened to her then. The bathroom disappeared, and Anna found herself gazing down into Ben’s smoldering eyes as her hair fell in a curtain around her face. They were in bed, naked, the covers twisted from their lovemaking, their skin shimmering in the afterglow. And he wanted her again. She could see it in his eyes. The passion. The longing. The desperation…

As if lost in the same vision, Ben grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, then tangled his fingers in her hair as he lowered his mouth to hers.

But just before their lips touched, Anna gasped and sprang back.

He stared down at her in shock. “My God,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It’s just…” He ran a hand across his eyes, as if trying to clear away the vision. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “You probably think I’m some kind of pervert, grabbing you like that. But I swear I’m harmless.”

As harmless as a cobra, maybe.

A door slammed somewhere nearby, and he looked instantly relieved. “That must be Gwen. I’ll go tell her you’re here while you take care of that cut.” He backed toward the door as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough, but he paused in the hallway, glancing at her anxiously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes, I’m fine.” She listened to the house for a moment. “The music,” she said softly. “It’s stopped.”

Ben listened, too, and then shrugged. “Thank God for small mercies.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared.

A YOUNG WOMAN stood arguing with Ben in the dim living room. When she saw Anna hovering in the doorway, however, her anger instantly disappeared and she smiled brilliantly. “You must be Anna. Ben was just telling me you were here. I’m Gwen. We spoke on the phone this morning.”