Forbidden Read online

  “I shouldn’t,” Leah said, but he only shook his head.

  “You’re staying in here, and that’s final. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

  “Well, if you’re sure…”

  “I am,” Owen said shortly. He went to a high wooden chest of drawers across from the foot of the bed and began rummaging in the top drawer. “Here.” He tossed her a white T-shirt. “Wear that, and hang my bathrobe up to dry.”

  “I will,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t have used it, only the towel was too short, and I didn’t want to flash you.”

  He looked at her again—really looked at her, as he hardly ever did—and she saw that the strange, hungry expression was back in his eyes. His gaze fixed on her chest. “You mean the way you are now?”

  “What?” Leah looked down at herself and was startled to see the collar of the bathrobe sagging open. The inner curves of her breasts were on display. “Oh God, I’m so sorry!” She snatched the robe closed. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Of course you didn’t,” he said, his deep voice bitter. “Why would you come to my home in the middle of the night just to tempt me?”

  She frowned. “Tempt you? What are you talking about, Owen? I’m your sister. How—”

  “Never mind.” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and rubbed hard, as though to rid himself of some unwanted vision. “I’m tired. I’m babbling. Look, get some sleep. I’ll be gone in the morning when you wake up, and you can let yourself out. Just be sure the door is locked.”

  “Sure, okay. Fine.” She was shaken by his words as well as the hunger she’d seen in his eyes. It almost reminded her of that one night and the strange vision she’d had after he—No, don’t think of that. Don’t. She pushed the painful memory away with difficulty and tried to smile. “Thanks again. I know I’m a pain in your ass.”

  Owen’s expression softened. “No, you’re not. Listen, I’m sorry, Leah. I know I’m a grouch. It’s—”

  “It’s what?” she urged when he stopped abruptly. This was the closest they’d come to talking in years. If he had something to say, she wanted to hear it.

  But Owen only shook his head. “It’s nothing I can talk about.” He sighed. “Go to bed, okay? You look beat.”

  In fact, she felt a lot worse than beat. Her head was throbbing, and she was hot and cold all over. But there was no way she was going to admit that, not to him. “Okay,” she said instead, nodding. “Night.”

  “Night…little sister.”

  She looked at him in wonder. “You haven’t called me that in years. Not since… Not for a long time,” she hastily corrected herself.

  “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry about that.” Then he turned and left the room, leaving Leah to stare after him in uncertainty.

  She lay in the dark in the middle of the huge bed for what felt like ages, staring at the shadowy ceiling. Owen hated her, wanted to avoid her, was clearly sorry she’d moved here. Why? You know why. Stop avoiding it. It all goes back to that night. But could his dislike of her really be traced back to that one kiss?

  Leah turned on her side. I was so sad after that. So devastated. And then I had that weird…dream, vision. Whatever.

  She’d been lying in her bed just as she was now, having cried herself to the brink of exhaustion, when the dream had come. Only it couldn’t have been a dream, because she wasn’t asleep yet. In it, she’d seen a white palace made of pure, pristine marble, slender columns rising toward the sky. There was a door too. A set of double doors, actually, but they were immense—taller than the tallest building Leah had ever seen.

  But as beautiful and strange as the background was, what had drawn her into the dream was the sight of the two winged beings standing before the huge golden doors. Guarding it, she realized. The two were beautiful, with matching hair and eyes, much like hers and Owen’s. And they were entwined. Though their wings hid most of their bodies, Leah somehow knew they were making love.

  “The lock and the key,” a voice had whispered in her mind. “They belong to each other. Eternally joined. Eternally together. Ariel and Micah—Leah and Owen. Always and forever one…”

  Feeling strange, Leah blinked at the darkened ceiling. She hadn’t just been remembering the strange vision she’d had so many years ago—she had actually been reliving it. She tried desperately to hold on to it, but already the names and images were fading from her mind. She was left with nothing more than a feeling so strong, it was impossible to deny—the feeling that she had done the right thing in coming to seek Owen out. The feeling that they belonged together.

  How can that be? It doesn’t make sense.

  But it didn’t seem to matter if it made sense or not. The feeling persisted and followed her into sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning she felt horrible. She had a vague memory of Owen ghosting in at some ungodly early hour and taking some clothes from the closet, but it might have been a dream. The next time she woke up, pale, early morning light was shining through the drapes and turning the entire room a watery blue. What time was it? Owen expected her to be gone when he got home, and here she was, lying in his bed.

  She tried to get up and groaned. God, she felt terrible. Everything ached, and she was burning up—even her eyelids felt like they were on fire. After slumping back down onto the pillows, she turned her head to look at the red numerals on the digital alarm clock. Nine o’clock. That’s not so bad. Maybe I can just lie here a little while longer, until I feel better. I’ll get up in an hour or so.

  It got later and later, the sunlight slanting through the windows at a different angle, turning golden and then orange and then red. Finally the sun set, and Leah was in darkness again, but by then she was so ill, she didn’t even know it.

  She drifted in and out of dreams, always meaning to get up and never quite able to do it. Again she had the vision of the two feathered beings—one male and one female—standing at attention before a set of double doors made of pure, gleaming gold. Through the cracks in the door she saw light—a light so terrible and beautiful and brilliant, it seemed it would surely blind her if she looked at it too long. But she couldn’t look away.

  “Turn your face away, my love,” murmured a low, somehow familiar masculine voice. “Turn your face away and look at me.”

  “Look at me. Leah, can you hear me? Look at me!” The voice was more urgent now, and someone was shaking her shoulder. “Leah?”

  “Leah?” Owen shook her again, trying to get some response. At first he’d been annoyed when he had come home from a full day at the hospital and found her still asleep in his bed. But one look at her flushed cheeks and the rapid, shallow way she was breathing convinced him something was very wrong.

  He had no idea how high her fever was, but without even touching her, he could feel the heat baking off of her. Even more worrisome, her head lolled limply to one side when he shook her. Could she have caught something on the flight over here? Airplanes were notoriously bad places for the spread of viruses. Close quarters and an enclosed airspace were the perfect environments for spreading germs. And then she’d gotten soaked through last night, which probably didn’t help matters.

  Need to get her to the ER, he thought. But I have to get that fever down first. He hurried across the hall to the bathroom, where he started to run a cold bath in the deep, free-standing tub. Then he ran back and gathered Leah in his arms. She was still wearing only the thin white T-shirt he’d given her to sleep in, and she’d sweat through it until it was practically transparent, but he didn’t care about that now. Now his only concern was saving her, getting her temperature down to a manageable level before she fried her brain. If she hasn’t already.

  He took her into the bathroom and laid her carefully down inside the porcelain tub. The water was only a few inches deep, but she still shivered uncontrollably as her heated skin touched it. She was so hot, Owen almost expected to see steam rising from the tub. The bath had one good effect at l