by Amy Cross
***
She sat up suddenly, finding that her bedroom was bright and that the white linen curtains were fluttering in a breeze that came through the open window. Outside, the sounds of London – voices, a passing bus, planes overhead – took a moment longer than usual to pull her back to reality, and she realized she was a little out of breath.
Reaching down, she ran a hand over her bare waist. She could still feel the touch that had come to her in the dream. Every night since she got back from Thaxos, the same dream had visited her in her sleep, and every night it seemed even more real and vivid than before. She was a rational person, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Edgar Le Compte was somehow reaching out to her across the vast distance that separated them, slowly inching his way deeper into her mind...
“Bugger!” she exclaimed suddenly as she saw the clock by her bed and realized that it was almost 8am.
Scrambling out of bed, she grabbed some clothes and hurried to the bathroom. She was in danger of being late to work for the third time in five days, and although it was her last day, she was determined to make a good impression. After all, she was still looking for her next freelance job, so she was relying heavily on a good recommendation from her current employer, who had useful links throughout the industry. Almost falling over as she slipped into some clean underwear, Kate tried to put thoughts of Edgar Le Compte from her mind, although he never left entirely. In fact, Kate wasn't sure whether it felt like he was reaching out to her, or that she simply had never really left the island in her mind.
