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Authors: Jennifer St. Giles
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important events. She had papers to sign to officially give her half of the opera house and she had an opera to sing for a dear old man. She never performed without practicing first, not even for small audiences. A lot to do in a short amount of time.
Leaving his room with her bags in tow, she headed for her bedroom to look at the opera score Lord Daniels had given her. Reaching her room, she started to get to work, but couldn’t focus on the music. She had to know what JD meant by mon âme soeur . She Googled it on her phone. Soul mate. It was French for soul mate.
She shivered, secretly thrilled. Yet a part of her mind wondered how he could feel that way in a day?
What about you? Don’t you feel the same? Within a day, you gave him everything you’d saved for the man you would one day love.
Did she love him? She shook her head. Not in the traditional sense of the word. That would take time and knowing. She didn’t even know him. But…she did know him on a level that went deeper than facts. She shoved the musings aside and focused on her performance tonight. She hoped JD would return soon. It would help to go to the opera house and do this on stage with him accompanying her on the organ. For now, she went to the ballroom where she’d seen the grand piano.
She lost herself in Anya’s work. The story told in Come Back to Me grabbed Krisana by the throat and the heart, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew deep inside her that Anya had loved James with a passion that would accept no bounds on Earth, Heaven, or Hell. It was a love so powerful and consuming that it made Krisana’s spirit soar and her heart ache. It made her think of JD making love to her, gazing into her eyes, loving her with deep purpose and passion.
There was more between them within a day than what any human would consider possible.
When she returned to her room after hours of practice, she found a hundred roses along with an old fashioned, gossamer and silk dress the color of soft candlelight—a dress not unlike the one Anya wore in her portrait presiding over the ballroom. The accompanying note said:
This is for tonight. Let’s plan on starting at 9:00 pm. Thank you for humoring an old man and his dreams. JD will go with you to sign the opera house papers late this afternoon.
Fondly yours, Lord Daniels .
For a brief instant, Krisana had the urge to run, to go back to her life and pretend. But pretend what? That I’d never come here? That last night never happened?
“No.” Her lone voice rang in the empty room. No matter what, JD had made last night more than she imagined possible and she wouldn’t regret it. She’d embrace his toast from last night. To her, and to him, and to interesting possibilities.
She’d just settled down to read Anya’s diaries when a soft knock at the door revealed Martha with two women pushing carts in tow. They were from Resurrection Spa. Upon seeing Krisana, one of the women oddly exclaimed, “We can make the dead glow. She is already beautiful. By the time we finish, she will be like an angel.” The diaries would have to wait for another day. For the next few hours, Kris was massaged, mudded, steamed, and buffed until she did literally glow. The women even managed to lure her into a restful hour’s sleep. With treatments like that before a performance, a woman would be invincible on the stage.
There’d been a light tray of cheese and fruit fixed, but Krisana couldn’t eat. The closer the time came for the performance, the more JD was on her mind. Why had he been absent the entire day?
When Martha told her he was waiting in a limousine downstairs, Krisana practically panicked. Her mouth dried, her palms dampened, her blood rushed, and her heart raced. For a moment, she thought she’d faint.
Martha reached out and caught her arm. “Are you all right? You should have eaten something.”
Krisana sucked in air. “I’m fine. I’m always nervous before a
Leaving his room with her bags in tow, she headed for her bedroom to look at the opera score Lord Daniels had given her. Reaching her room, she started to get to work, but couldn’t focus on the music. She had to know what JD meant by mon âme soeur . She Googled it on her phone. Soul mate. It was French for soul mate.
She shivered, secretly thrilled. Yet a part of her mind wondered how he could feel that way in a day?
What about you? Don’t you feel the same? Within a day, you gave him everything you’d saved for the man you would one day love.
Did she love him? She shook her head. Not in the traditional sense of the word. That would take time and knowing. She didn’t even know him. But…she did know him on a level that went deeper than facts. She shoved the musings aside and focused on her performance tonight. She hoped JD would return soon. It would help to go to the opera house and do this on stage with him accompanying her on the organ. For now, she went to the ballroom where she’d seen the grand piano.
She lost herself in Anya’s work. The story told in Come Back to Me grabbed Krisana by the throat and the heart, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew deep inside her that Anya had loved James with a passion that would accept no bounds on Earth, Heaven, or Hell. It was a love so powerful and consuming that it made Krisana’s spirit soar and her heart ache. It made her think of JD making love to her, gazing into her eyes, loving her with deep purpose and passion.
There was more between them within a day than what any human would consider possible.
When she returned to her room after hours of practice, she found a hundred roses along with an old fashioned, gossamer and silk dress the color of soft candlelight—a dress not unlike the one Anya wore in her portrait presiding over the ballroom. The accompanying note said:
This is for tonight. Let’s plan on starting at 9:00 pm. Thank you for humoring an old man and his dreams. JD will go with you to sign the opera house papers late this afternoon.
Fondly yours, Lord Daniels .
For a brief instant, Krisana had the urge to run, to go back to her life and pretend. But pretend what? That I’d never come here? That last night never happened?
“No.” Her lone voice rang in the empty room. No matter what, JD had made last night more than she imagined possible and she wouldn’t regret it. She’d embrace his toast from last night. To her, and to him, and to interesting possibilities.
She’d just settled down to read Anya’s diaries when a soft knock at the door revealed Martha with two women pushing carts in tow. They were from Resurrection Spa. Upon seeing Krisana, one of the women oddly exclaimed, “We can make the dead glow. She is already beautiful. By the time we finish, she will be like an angel.” The diaries would have to wait for another day. For the next few hours, Kris was massaged, mudded, steamed, and buffed until she did literally glow. The women even managed to lure her into a restful hour’s sleep. With treatments like that before a performance, a woman would be invincible on the stage.
There’d been a light tray of cheese and fruit fixed, but Krisana couldn’t eat. The closer the time came for the performance, the more JD was on her mind. Why had he been absent the entire day?
When Martha told her he was waiting in a limousine downstairs, Krisana practically panicked. Her mouth dried, her palms dampened, her blood rushed, and her heart raced. For a moment, she thought she’d faint.
Martha reached out and caught her arm. “Are you all right? You should have eaten something.”
Krisana sucked in air. “I’m fine. I’m always nervous before a
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