Borrowed Identity Read Online Free PDF Page A

answer.”
    “Good.” She inched her way along the wall, moving sideways past the staircase. “Can you tell me something?”
    “What?” His eyebrow arched.
    “Do you love me, Michael?” she asked.
    There was an obvious hesitation, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer her question.
    “Yes or no!” A voice at the back of her mind screamed at her not to ask. “It’s a simple question.”
    “Sure I do.” He said the words without feeling or depth. He replied as one would to a child in need of humoring.
    I never wanted you. It was a joke. You’re a joke.

    The words shot through her like a bullet, bringing a searing pain with them. Kelly’s hands flew to her temples. Palms pressed hard against the sides of her head, she held it tightly, fearing it would explode. A soft whimper floated to her ears.
    It was her. She was moaning while slowly sliding down the wall.
    Hands enclosed her upper arms and tugged her up again. Her back scraped against the wall behind her as Michael used it to keep her from falling.
    “What’s happening? Talk to me!” he demanded.
    The pain receded, and she gasped for breath. Every thought had been forced from her mind. She couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking at the time the pain had hit, striking like a bolt of lightning out of a pure blue sky.
    Michael held her close to his chest as if she was a precious treasure, and she could feel his heart beating beneath the palm of her hand. She was afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell of the moment. The tension she’d been feeling in his presence was gone now. She felt safe and cherished. She didn’t want to move.
    Kelly rested her head against him. Her equilibrium hadn’t returned yet. A few more easy breaths and she would be fine.
    “Kelly, are you all right? Can you talk to me?”
    She looked up at him. His dark eyes were filled with concern. He couldn’t possibly be faking the emotion. It was too raw, too powerful. Michael really did care about her.
    “What’s wrong with me?” She asked the question in wonder, her mind a mass of confusion.
    “You need to lie down,” he said. “I’ll help you upstairs.”
    She wanted to argue with him. The idea of being in her room filled her with dread, but her vocal cords didn’t cooperate.
    Michael swung her into his arms and carried her. Shewanted to fight him, fight her deepening dependence on him, but she rested her head against his hard shoulder. He was a good man, and she was a paranoid dope for suspecting him of being anything less than wonderful.
    The feel of his strong arms holding her close was too good to be real. She could happily close her eyes and melt into him. They would become one entity…
    She silently berated herself. Was she a hopeless romantic or what?
    Michael left her on her bed after asking if she wanted anything from the kitchen. She felt bereft, abandoned without those strong arms around her. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay, but she wasn’t going to be a clingy female. If he wanted to stay, he would.
    She told him she just needed a bit of rest. The drug would clear out of her system and she would be able to focus once more. She longed to feel normal again. The woolly, disassociated sensation that dragged at her body soon would be a thing of the past. A little sleep and she would be fine.
    When he’d left the room she groaned, realizing she needed to use the bathroom. Kelly struggled out of bed. She’d managed to take two steps when her bare foot landed on a hard, tiny, pebble-like object. It hurt.
    She moved her foot and stared down, trying to find the offending item. She had bent over when a small white bead caught her eye. She picked it up and studied it. It appeared to be a small pearl. But where had it come from?
    The answer floated up from the depths of her subconscious, an unwanted epiphany. She tried to deny it access, but her mind opened, spilling a recent memory. Her wedding gown had been covered with tiny pearls.
    But the