Frustrated and fuming, she blew out a breath. The man was insufferable. Arrogant and pigheaded.
"Yeah, well, I'm not one of them. I am
not
one of your beautiful bevy of the brainless. Nor am I interested in a one-night stand, I don't care who you are." Eyes shooting sparks, Faith lifted her chin. "And I have a news flash for you,
Sheik.
You may have had everything you've ever wanted in life up until now, but there's one thing you will
never
have." She gave his chest a poke, furious at the smug arrogance shimmering in his eyes. "Me."
With that, Faith turned on her heel and marched away, leaving Ali standing in the middle of the dance floor, alone, staring after her with a perplexed look on his face.
"Ah, dear Faith, but on this too you are wrong." Slipping his hands in his pocket, he watched her sail through the doors into the cool, dark evening with a confident smile. "I
will
have you."
Four
Prosperino, California
I
n the dark, the elegant Colton estate rose like a proud, welcoming beacon atop a high, rocky cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
A cool, foggy mist swirled in the evening wind, rising through the darkness, wrapping the elegant mansion in a lazy, hazy shawl.
Moonlight silhouetted the jagged cliffs and the aprons of beach scattered along the shoreline. The scent of salt and the ocean mingled with the fragrance of tea roses, dianthus and begonias from the grounds' magnificent gardens, perfuming the night air with a sweet, subtle bouquet.
Christened
Hacienda del Alegria
—House of Joy—the sprawling Colton house had once rung with laughter and love, children and family.
But not anymore, Emily Blair Colton thought sadly, as she crossed the circular driveway at the front of the house. Now the house held more tension and sadness than anything else.
Although it was late and dark, she dreaded going home, dreaded going into the house that had once been a home.
But not any longer.
Pausing in the darkness, silhouetted by shafts of the high moon, Emily glanced up at the house that had once meant security and stability to her, the home that had once meant everything to her.
She shivered in the darkness, pulling her sweater tighter around her. Her life had changed when she was eleven.
Rubbing a throbbing spot on her temple, Emily slowly began walking, making her way up the rest of the drive toward the front entrance.
Everything in her life was now referenced by the accident.
Before the accident.
After the accident.
Before the accident her life had been blissful, happy, secure. She and her adopted mother had been so close.
She'd been a toddler when her parents had been killed and she'd been taken in as a foster child and then adopted by Joe and Meredith Colton.
Meredith had quickly nicknamed her Sparrow because of her slight frame and slender body.
With the Coltons she'd found the security and stability that had been shattered with her parents' untimely deaths, and something far more important—love.
They'd adopted her, given her their name, made her theirs. Her relationship with her new brothers and sisters, her parents, and especially her mother couldn't have been more perfect. She was once again safe, loved, protected.
Her mother, Meredith, had become the most important person in her life. She'd admired her, loved her, wanted to be just like her.
Until the accident.
Emily sighed as she started up the steps, digging in the front pocket of her shorts for her house key.
The day her life forever changed.
The morning of the accident, she and her mother had been on their way to visit Emily's grandmother when their car had been run off the road. Although neither was seriously injured, the after-effects of the accident had been devastating.
The exact details and events of that day were still fuzzy in Emily's mind, still troublesome because she couldn't remember everything. And trying to remember always brought on such blinding, vicious headaches. Lately, too, she'd been plagued by terrible nightmares.
That day had become a blur in her mind. She could remember very little of the details before she'd been brought to the emergency room, but one important detail had never left her: When she'd regained consciousness at the site, she'd seen two of her mother.
For some reason, even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still see the two images of her mother beside the mangled car. Two identical images.
Emily blinked, rubbing her eyes, thinking the vision would go away. It didn't. When she opened her eyes both her mothers were still there.
And for some reason, whenever she thought of the two mothers, she thought of one as good and one as evil.
Although she'd not been seriously injured that day, she
had
suffered a concussion, and that was what the doctors had blamed for her subsequent nightmares, headaches and her misguided memories.
She'd told the doctors about seeing two of her mother, but they brushed aside her story, saying she was merely experiencing double vision from her head injury.
But Emily knew it wasn't just double vision. Something terrible had happened that day. And not just to her.
Ever since the accident, her kind, gentle, loving mother had changed into a stranger Emily no longer knew.
At first, she'd thought the drastic change in her mother was a result of Meredith's injuries in the accident. Emily had waited and waited, expecting the cold, distant stranger who called herself her mother to disappear, and her real mother to return.
It had never happened.
Words couldn't begin to describe the loss she'd felt, still felt every single day. She'd loved her mother, depended on her and now…
Emily sighed, checking the alarm box on the house and wondering why the alarm was turned off. Her parents always set the alarm before going out for the evening.
Now Emily wasn't certain she even knew or liked the woman who called herself her mother.
It was a loss she felt all the way to her soul. She couldn't talk to her dad about it, knowing that, he, too, sensed a change in her mom. She didn't want to upset him, didn't want him to know how deeply troubled she was by her mother's behavior.
With no one else to confide in, Emily had found herself confiding in her cousin Liza. At twenty, she was a few years younger than her cousin, who had the voice of an angel and a face to match.
Growing up, they'd become very close, and in some ways Liza had become a sister to her.
Liza completely understood Emily's confusion and fears about her mother. Liza's own mother was a cold, calculating, workaholic attorney who'd had little time for her, until she'd discovered Liza's beautiful singing voice.
Then Cynthia Turner Colton had become relentless in her pursuit to have Liza become a singing star. Liza's childhood had been reduced to lessons, practicing and performances, until the poor girl was so weary, all she wanted was some peace and quiet away from her controlling, demanding mother.
It was natural she gravitated toward the Colton house, and the warm, relaxed family atmosphere. Anxious to escape her own unhappy home, Liza spent as much time as possible at their house and had enjoyed a close, loving relationship with her Aunt Meredith, who had become like a surrogate mom to her.
It was a relationship that had also changed after the accident. Now Meredith was cold and distant, with little time or patience for Liza. It was as if their past relationship had never happened.
It pained and worried both girls, so much so that they'd talked about it at length, confiding in each other their fears. The more bizarre Meredith's behavior became, the more alarmed the girls were.
So much so that Emily had recently confessed that she wondered if Meredith was really her mother.
It was as if her real mother had been stolen, and this cold, cruel stranger had taken her place.
The mere thought seemed ridiculous, outrageous, but it was the only explanation Emily could find to explain her adoptive mother's abrupt change in personality.
She no longer could even think of her as her mother, but Meredith.
With a sigh, Emily fumbled with her key, shivering in the darkness as the wind blew in from the coastline, chilling her.
She glanced up. The entire house was dark, even the light in her dad's first-floor study, which meant everyone was still out for the evening.
She unlocked the door and slipped inside, savoring the peace and quiet. Peace and quiet had become rare commodities when her mother was around.
Her dad had been seeing some old friends this evening, and her mother, well, who knew where her mother was for the evening; they rarely did. She came and went as she pleased, never bothering to tell anyone of her whereabouts.
Emily hated to admit she was relieved. She'd been far too upset all evening to have another confrontation with her mother over some perceived or imagined infraction.
All day and into the evening she'd had this terrible…premonition that something was horribly, terribly wrong. She'd tried to shake it off, telling herself she was merely being foolish. So she'd gone to dinner with some friends from school, and then to the movies, but still, the feeling hadn't left her.
After quietly shutting and locking the front door behind her, Emily rested her head against the cool wood, wishing things were different, wishing she had her once-happy life back.
Wishing she had her mother back.
Sadness engulfed her and she felt the sting of tears. She hadn't realized just how much she'd loved her mother until this had happened. Hadn't realized how much she'd depended on her mother until the accident.
Although she loved her father with a fierceness she couldn't even begin to put into words, it was her mother who had drawn her out of her shell with her loving kindness.
She'd been so young when she'd come to the Coltons, so young, and so frightened. Meredith was truly the only mother she knew. It was only through her unfailing love that Emily finally gained the confidence, the security to feel as if she was worthy of love, worthy of a family.
And then she'd blossomed. Confidence grew along with the love and devotion she'd had to her mother for making it all possible, for giving her the family, the love, the one place in the world she belonged.
But that was a long time ago, Emily thought with a sigh, as she drew herself upward and made her way upstairs in the dark.
Her tennis shoes made no sound on the carpeted stairs.
For a moment she paused at the top of the stairs, grateful Meredith's bedroom was in the south wing, on the other side of the house.
Just being near Meredith now made her uncomfortable. She hoped to be in bed, sound asleep before the woman even came home.
At the top of the stairs, Emily frowned, wondering why her bedroom door was partially closed. Inez, their housekeeper, never closed their bedroom doors. In fact, the only time the bedroom doors were closed was when they were sleeping. In fact, that was how her dad knew when everyone was in for the night. It was his own version of a bed-check, one they'd all found amusing growing up.
Suddenly feeling that unease again, Emily paused.
It was so odd to have her bedroom door half-closed, like a puzzle piece that had been fit into the wrong place. Something so obvious, it would immediately garner attention.
Shaking, Emily quietly crept toward the door, glancing down the hallway. In the darkness, the silence seemed to echo loudly. For the first time in her life she was afraid in the big, sprawling house she had lived in as long as she could remember.
With trembling hands, she slowly pressed her fingertips against her bedroom door, opening it just enough so that she could see into the whole room. The open door hid her profile as her gaze scanned the darkened room.
Shafts of the moonlight filtered in through the draperies. But one of the windows was open, letting the drapes float in the evening breeze. Her fingers clutching the door, she froze, and a scream died in her throat.
Silhouetted against the moon's light was a man—a stranger hiding behind the drapes, near her bed.
Her eyes widened and she took a quiet step backward, pressing her free hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. Narrowing her eyes in the darkness, she felt her heart begin to hammer loudly in her chest, echoing in her ears, nearly deafening her.
It looked like he was holding—
"Oh God." The word came out an agonized whisper as fear and terror clutched her heart, nearly paralyzing her.
The man was holding a knife.
For years, because of her parents' position, because of their prominence in the community, all of the children had known they could become targets of some lunatic, for money, for fame, for glory, for whatever misguided notion such people had.
She'd never taken such a threat seriously before. Who on earth would want to hurt any of them? More importantly who would want to hurt
her?
And why? The thoughts came quickly, fragmented like a kaleidoscope, one tumbling over the other.
She was all alone in the house.
She had to get out!
Weak with fear, her knees nearly buckled as she whirled and rushed back down the stairs, almost stumbling on the last one. She grabbed the banister to catch herself, and a sob escaped her as she rushed toward the front door. The front door she had so carefully just locked.
Her hands were damp, shaking so badly, she couldn't get a grasp on the lock. The keys she still held clutched in her trembling hands slipped out, clattering to the marble floor.
She heard a noise behind her and turned. The man, his face clearly visible now, stood in her open bedroom doorway—with the knife.
He'd seen her!
She didn't bother to stop to pick up her keys. With an anguished cry, Emily flipped the lock, yanked open the door and bolted down the front steps, taking them two at a time, missing the last few and landing hard on her knees in the damp grass. The fall jolted her, nearly knocking the wind out of her.