Twilight Hunger by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

Longish and shadowed. His jawbone was sharp, his nose narrow. The eyes set deep, and so dark that he seemed to be looking out at her from somewhere deep within. From his soul, maybe.
    He wanted to see her. Her eyes, once held by his, were locked there. And she knew what he wanted. All she wanted was to please him. She lifted a hand, peeled her covers away and lay there, completely naked and unashamed, as his dark, intense eyes burned over her. Every part of her.
    Touch me, she thought. For the love of God, just touch me.
    She blinked—and he was gone.
    Just that suddenly.
    Awake now, Morgan lay in her bed. Her covers were on the floor, and her body was alive. But she was alone.
    God, these dreams were taking on a life of their own, weren’t they? Maybe she needed to think about some sort of therapy. Not that she hadn’t dreamed about him, over and over, night after night, since she had come to live here. But this time it had been different. It had been… real.
    She sat up slowly, ran a hand through her hair and got to her feet. She pulled on a satin robe the color of cream, walked to the glass doors and opened them, stepping out onto the balcony, inhaling the night air deeply. It tasted good.
    Then she paused and stared straight ahead.
    A man stood on the cliffs, wind buffeting him as it was buffeting her. He was staring out toward the sea, and she couldn’t really see his face. And yet there was something so incredibly familiar about him. The fall of his hair. His stance. Some thing.
    A fist seemed to close around her stomach as clouds skittered away from the moon and, for just an instant, his face was touched by moonlight.
    â€œDante…” She whispered his name, breathed it.
    And as if he had heard her, even though it was impossible from that distance, he turned sharply, looked right at her.
    â€œIt can’t be….” Morgan closed her eyes, took three open mouthed breaths as her heart hammered in her chest. “It can’t be.”
    She opened her eyes again.
    The cliffs, the sea, the wind, and nothing else. No one was there. No one was there at all.

6
    M axine leaned back in the ergonomic chair and blinked her eyes several times. You didn’t blink often enough when you stared at a computer screen all day. She’d read that some where. It wasn’t good for your vision.
    The front door opened, and Storm came in, a big white bag from the bakery in one hand and the morning mail in the other. “Time to take a break!” she called. “Carbs, calories and cream filling, just what the doctor ordered.”
    Max sighed, pushing the chair back. It rolled on its casters from the computer desk to the middle of the floor in what used to be the living room and was now an office. If you used the term loosely. It more closely resembled an explosion in a paper-and-file-folder factory. With computers. Lots of computers.
    Storm dropped the bag on her own desk, sat down and peered inside. “Mmm, I got jelly and cream filled, and now I can’t decide.”
    â€œHow many are in there?” Maxine asked, lifting her brows.
    â€œHalf dozen.” Storm didn’t look up. The doughnuts had her mesmerized.
    â€œBetter go for one of each, then.”
    She looked up then, brows arched. “You think?”
    â€œOh, yeah. Far better than the risk of making the wrong choice.”
    â€œI like the way your mind works,” Stormy said, smiling, as she reached into the bag to pluck out a doughnut.
    Max got out of her chair and wandered into the kitchen, which was still a kitchen, where she poured two cups of fresh coffee. “Did you ever wonder just how screwed up I must be to be in the same town, in the same house, in the same rut, after all this time?”
    â€œNo.”
    Max smiled at the sound of the word, because it was dough nut muffled. She carried the two mugs back into the room in time to see Stormy taking another bite and closing her eyes in