Read Online Charade by Sandra Brown - Free Book Online

gorgeous pool surrounded by more lush greenery than a tropical lagoon. "You go on up. I'll be there shortly." He climbed the sweeping staircase to the second floor. Cat went out through the terrace doors and followed the flagstone path through the manicured garden to the pool. Unself-consciously, she unfastened her dress and stepped out of it, then peeled off her stockings and panties and slid naked into the deliciously cool water. It felt cleansing. Perhaps it would wash away the nagging dissatisfaction that had plagued her for months, not just with Dean but with everything in her life. She swam three laps before turning onto her back to float. She still marveled that she could swim without having to gasp for breath or be afraid that her heart would come to a screeching halt. A year and a half ago she couldn't have believed that such a feat was possible. She'd been prepared to die. And she would have died, if someone else hadn't died first. That thought was never far from her consciousness, but whenever it thrust itself forward, it was jolting. Now, it brought her out of the
    pool. Shivering, she tiptoed to the cabana and wrapped herself in a large towel. But the thought stalked her: Someone's death had given her the gift of life. She'd made it clear to Dean, and to everyone on the transplant team, that she wanted to know nothing about the donor of her heart. Rarely did she allow herself to think of that anonymous person as an individual, with a family who had made a tremendous sacrifice so that she might live. When she did permit herself to think about that unnamed someone, her ambiguous discontent seemed the Mt. Everest of selfishness and self-pity. One life had been cut short; she'd been granted a second one. She lay down on one of the chaise lounges, closed her eyes tightly, and concentrated on counting her blessings. She'd conquered the overwhelming odds of her unfortunate childhood, pursued her dream, and achieved it. She was at the peak of her career and worked with talented people who liked and admired her. She had more than enough money and wanted for nothing. She was adored and desired by a handsome, cultured, highly respected cardiologist who lived the lifestyle of a prince. So why this vague restlessness, this disquiet that she could neither explain nor dispel? Her life, so hard-won, now seemed without purpose or direction. She yearned for something she couldn't describe or identify, something beyond her reckoning and her grasp. What could she possibly want that she didn't have? What more could she ask, when she had already received the gift of life? Cat sat up abruptly, sudden insight infusing her with energy. Self-doubt could be a positive motivator, and there was nothing wrong with self-examination. It was the focus of her self-analysis that was misdirected. Instead of asking what more she could want, perhaps she should be asking what she could give.
    Chapter Ten
    October 10, 1992
    Your house always smelled like something just out of the oven. This morning it was teacakes. Golden and sugar-dusted, they were cooling on a wire rack on the kitchen table, next to a chocolate layer cake and two fruit pies. Ruffled curtains fluttered in the open screened windows. On the refrigerator, magnets held in place Valentines made of red construction paper and white paper doilies, Thanksgiving turkeys drawn around small handprints, and Christmas angels that bore an unsettling resemblance to Halloween bats. All was the artwork of numerous grandchildren. She answered the knock on her back screen door with a glance, a smile, and wave to come on in. "You've got every mouth in the neighborhood watering. I could smell the cookies as soon as I stepped outside my door." Her plump face was flushed with heat from the oven. When she smiled, her animated, guileless eyes crinkled at the corners. "Have one while they're still warm." She gestured at the teacakes. "No. They're for your party."
    "Just one. I need an opinion. Be honest now."