Mirrored Hearts: Sealed by Fire (Encounters of the Heart Book 2)

by Ann Marie Bryan

  NEVER, she almost yelled.

  Moving to stand behind the podium, she lifted the microphone to her mouth, while praying her smile came off less fixed and awkward than it felt.

  “Sir,” she began, “as I already stated, I do not believe in love at first sight.”

  She looked into the audience, realizing she’d let the volume of her voice rise. “Any two persons can experience an instant attraction towards each other - an attraction that is intense and overpowering … even an intimate connection. Your eyes meet across the room, your hearts begin to pound in sync, and,” she covered her heart with her hand, “suddenly you know, you’ve found the one.” Her eyes widened, before she playfully added, “So in essence, you are saying, Cupid, for it had to be Cupid, aimed for your heart and stole it.”

  Pockets of snickering broke out in the audience.

  She eyed the man who asked the question and instantly regretted looking at him. Ignoring his incredulous expression, she decided to fix him with a question. “Seriously,” she said, stifling a laugh, “can you decide in a few minutes that you’re in love?”

  He blinked in surprise before moving the microphone to his mouth. “Yes, I can,” he responded charmingly, flashing even white teeth that drew female interest.

  Rozene’s desire to laugh vanished.

  His eyes raked her frame. “And, I simply refuse to believe that you don’t. It has happened to me,” he said in all seriousness, smiling at the other participants with an air of confidence as they purred under the influence of his powerful, authoritative voice.

  That smug grin rode her last nerve, and Rozene fought to keep the hostility out of her gaze.

  His lips blossomed into a full eat-your-heart-out smile. “I couldn’t break the intensity, the intensity,” he emphasized, “that I felt in this first interaction between me and this wonderful lady. Didn’t want to anyway. It was surreal. My heartbeat quickened at the thought of speaking with her. It was not just an attraction. It was … a mystical experience. An undeniable magnetic pull. I knew she felt it too.” He held Rozene’s gaze, daring her to respond in anything but the affirmative before taking his seat.

  I knew she felt it too. His words swam towards her, just as a shiver stole through her. She pressed her lips together and plastered a smile on her face. “I can agree that two people can be attracted to each other and that, of course, is an important aspect of love, the emotional component of love. But I have learned that love is what is stated in 1 Corinthians 13:4-6, “Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;””

  She looked at the audience, emotions whirling on her inside. “It takes but a moment to be attracted to someone, to get a crush on someone, but I dare say it takes dedication, passion, perseverance, and leaning on the Word of God and the Holy Spirit to create a love for all times.”

  Perfectly pitched with passion, experience, and insight.

  Spellbound, the audience cheered, and the man stood and bowed deeply, mouthing to her, “Let’s agree to disagree.”

  She attempted to return a gracious smile before announcing, “You have fifteen minutes to complete your prologues. After that, we will listen to a few.”

  She could barely think straight as she gathered her documents from the podium and returned to her seat at the table nearby. Usually, she would move about the conference room to talk with participants and offer help but not this time, in case he attempted to share personal space with her again.

  Her mind flashed back to the first time she spotted him across the room during the lunch break. It was an automatic double take. Then her mind went straight to the gutter. This blast of unexpected desire was the craziest experience she’d had in a long while. She could only hope that her mouth wasn’t hanging open. She came out of her senselessness just in time to witness his cocky grin. Like a lion on the prowl, he had found his prey and was moving in for the kill. When he started walking towards her, she all but ran to the podium to announce fifteen minutes to the end of lunch break. As if anyone needed a reminder.

  Shaking off her mental hopscotch, Rozene decided to browse the prologue handout while giving herself a much needed pep talk to get through the rest of the session. This was the last session of her three-day writers’ conference and book tour in Washington, D.C. and it couldn’t be over sooner.

  Feeling eyes on her, she looked towards where he was sitting and was startled to see him staring at her while chatting in a small group. If he was surprised to see her looking at him, he didn’t show it. But her gaze must have given him an invitation of sorts because in the next minute, he hauled his tall frame away from the group, and began strolling towards the platform.

  Her heartbeat frantically pounded her eardrums.

  Trapped by his intoxicating allure, she couldn’t bring herself to move, couldn’t stop staring, and couldn’t even blink.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he paused on the step leading to the platform to answer his cell phone. His mouth began to move but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. In the next minute, he walked swiftly back to his seat, and took up his bag. With that, he left the room.

  Immediately, tension left her body, reminding her that she had placed herself in a vulnerable position. Silently, she thanked God for making a way of escape. She was grateful too, that no one knew her little secret.

  A gentle knock on her bedroom door drew Rozene out of her musing, and she stumbled out of bed. “Ten minutes, Mom,” she called out.

  “Ten minutes it is,” her mother responded.

  Rozene dragged herself to the bathroom, thankful for her mother who refused to let grief consume her. Her mom had become her therapist, her prayer partner, and her security blanket.

  She had always admired her mom, not only for being an exemplary woman of God, but for her determined spirit and the passion she exerted in every task she undertook. Her mother helped to manage the fifty-year-old family business, Bennady International Citrus Company with her father, Benjamin. When she was not busy working, Elizabeth was out and about doing charity work and ministering to women in the various organizations she’d established.

  Elizabeth Bennady was the ideal wife too, and Rozene had always hoped to follow in her footsteps. So much for that. Tears filled Rozene’s eyes as she stared at her ghostly reflection in the bathroom mirror. This is not my life.

  CHAPTER 5

  Elizabeth popped her head out the door leading to the huge back patio, and watched Rozene staring at nothing in particular. Dark clouds of uncertainty and sorrow were still lingering over her.

  Offering up a silent prayer, Elizabeth stepped out the door to drink in the warmth of the day and soak in the energy. I’m going to need it, she thought.

  “You should be writing,” Elizabeth called out to Rozene. “It’s such a beautiful day.”

  Startled, Rozene gave her a tight smile before placing her laptop on the table before her. “That was the idea.” She pushed back in the chair as her mother arrived by her side. “Well, I can now spend my days writing about divorce.”

  “Stop punishing yourself, Rozie. Larry said nothing about a divorce.” Her mother eyed her. “I prepared Soupe a L’oignon. Would you like some?”

  “I’ll be in shortly, Mom.”

  A sigh of relief escaped Rozene as her mother kissed the top of her head and left.

  Back in the day, sitting on the patio would have calmed her nerves, and it would have been a time to reflect on God’s continued blessings. Plus, the panoramic view of the land that had been in the family for over a hundred years was simply awe-inspiring. Their home, Bennady mansion and private estate, was framed by beautiful landscape and gardens as far as the eyes could see. Although renovated a few times to include modern amenities, the twelve-bedroom, ten-bathroom mansion retained its original elegance and charm.

  During her teenage
years, Rozene would sit at this same spot, in her favorite rocking chair, and dream about all the books she would write. It was in that same spot that her mother and father would also find her fast asleep with the book she was reading in her lap.

  Now she felt like dozing off into oblivion. There was a draft in her soul. Her infidelity would destroy everything she’d worked hard to achieve.

  She wiped her eyes thinking how nice it would be if things were different, and she never had that crazy season.

  After her silent encounter with Chandler in Washington, D.C., she’d hoped … well kinda-sorta, never to see him again since he hadn’t returned to her writers’ conference and book tour.

  But three weeks later, he was back again, staring at her during her, Letters to Husbands book tour in Chicago. All week, she had seen him at the events, and he did the same thing - just stared at her in a way that continued to disturb her senses and caused goosebumps to attack her arms.

  After lunch on the last day of the book tour, he sat at the end of the second row, disregarded her steely determination to ignore him, and simply gazed at her … a slow, intense appraisal of her body especially when she stood beside the podium. When his eyes finally returned to her face, she could anticipate his smile of total appreciation. By the close of the book tour, he’d launched into full-scale flirtation. His expression dared her to stand under the heat of his gaze. Again, his eyes asked, if there was a possibility.

  Possibility?

  Of course, there was no possibility.

  I’ve made vows I intend to keep.

  Are you insane?

  Her lungs thrashed about for oxygen as she briefly scrutinized his striking, beguiling features, before looking away.

  Gripping the podium, she steadied herself, and looked at the audience. “Again, thanks so much for coming out. This is the final day of my book tour for, Letters to Husbands and I hope,” she said and flashed her winning smile to the more than two thousand in the audience, “it was as great for you as it was for me.”

  A chorus of “yes” rose from the audience.

  “Hope you plan to hang around,” someone shouted. “We love you.”

  The participants cheered and her smile widened. “I love you all too. It has been an awesome experience. Thanking God for you. And yes, my husband and I do plan to enjoy a little more of the windy city before heading back home.”

  More cheers came from the audience, and she let out a grateful sigh. It was a pleasure to use her talent to serve and bless others.

  “On another note, ladies,” Rozene smiled at the audience, “please don’t feel left out. As promised, I will have, Letters to Wives ready for you by next year. Have a great evening, everybody! Stay victorious.”

  The audience cheered and shouted their thank yous as she bowed in reverence before walking towards an area of the platform designated for signing her books.

  What on earth? She could barely process what was going on. She found herself eyeballing the mystery man. He had moved to stand near the desk stacked with her books. His deep-set eyes locked on hers long enough to let her know he was intensely fascinated by everything about her.

  Even his navy blazer couldn’t hide the fact that he was fine - well-built and all together wonderful. Not counting Larry, Rozene couldn’t recall the last time a man captured her attention in such a blatant way.

  This is crazy! Irritation washed through her. She was annoyed at the mounting desire in his eyes but most of all, she was bothered by her own abnormal behavior. Ignoring him, she took her seat behind the desk and smiled at a loving, young couple who was eagerly waiting in line.

  “Hello! Thanks for coming out,” she greeted them with a smile as she reached for the copy of her book from the woman.

  “Hi, Mrs. Kanate! I’m Sophia. I’m thrilled to meet you at last.”

  Rozene smiled at her and shook her hand. “Great to meet you too, Sophia. Please call me Rozene.”

  “Okay, I will. I read all your books,” she gushed.

  “Thank you,” Rozene beamed. “Hope you were blessed by what you read.”

  “I sure was.” Sophia tugged the arm of the young man beside her. “This is Chris. We’re engaged. Getting married in December.”

  It was Rozene’s turn to gush. “Wow! Congratulations!” She smiled at them, and then with an eyebrow lift, told them, “You know what the Word says, ‘Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of the Lord.’”

  “Amen,” Sophia and Chris responded in unison, high-fiving each other.

  Rozene grinned at them. “You are ready for married life, aren’t you?”

  “Can’t wait,” Sophia said ecstatically.

  “Me too,” Chris agreed, hugging her waist.

  Smiling, Rozene handed Sophia the autographed copy of her book. “Great. Enjoy each other.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Kanate,” Chris responded. “We will. Have a -”

  “Can we take a picture with you?” Sophia asked.

  “Sure.” Rozene pushed back her chair and walked towards them.

  The mystery man eagerly volunteered to snap the photo and after that, Sophia and Chris bid her goodbye.

  Rozene prepared herself with a tight smile to meet the mystery man, but when she turned to do so, he was walking away.

  Almost three hours later, Rozene massaged her hands after hugging, and then waving goodbye to the last attendee. It was finally over, now she needed to kick back until Larry arrived in the morning. Frankly, she couldn’t wait to fall in bed.

  She glanced around and a smile lit her face, her efficient book tour team had started to pack up the exhibits. She was gathering her belongings when the familiar sensation ricocheted through her body. It was then that she saw him talking to Donovan Peynard, her book tour manager. She had almost forgotten he was there. Almost.

  Oh God! She shook her head as they began walking towards her. For God’s sake, pull yourself together. You are a globe-trotting, bestselling author. You can handle this. She placed her purse on her shoulder and twiddled with her cell phone, hoping to get her nerves under control by the time the two men arrived by her side. As they got closer, she turned away and started to stack the pens she’d used in the container on the table.

  “Rozene,” Donovan called out.

  “Hey, Don.” She threw him a glance and continued stacking the pens.

  “No need to do that,” Don said. “The team will take care of it. Let’s get you back to the hotel so you can relax.”

  “Okay.” She hugged him. “Thanks so much.”

  “The pleasure was all ours. As usual, we enjoyed touring with you.” Don’s razor sharp eyes latched on to hers and he smiled pleasantly. He was a tall, lean man with wavy black hair with a tinge of gray that shot off at the edges. An air of expectation surrounded him and he always seemed like he was not only in control of his emotions but of the situation … whatever the situation may be.

  Rozene had met Don through Larry almost two year ago. Don had done a seamless job of promoting, marketing and handling all matters pertaining to her books, and ministry. After collaborating on ideas, she would turn up at an event, knowing it would be organized as discussed.

  Rozene smiled at Don. “Please tell the team thanks too. We will get together as usual to debrief when we get back home.”

  All this time, her eyes were focused on Don. She was determined that whosoever this alluring man was, he was not about to get the better of her.

  “Today was exceptional though,” Don said. “You were excellent, but then you always are.” He looked at the mystery man. “This is Chandler Peynard, my half-brother on my father’s side of the family. I may have mentioned him but I don’t believe you’ve been formally introduced. Meet my little brother.”

  Don was a mere five years older but he took pleasure in pointing out that Chandler was his little brother.

  Rozene had no choice but to look in Chandler’s direction. “Yes, I remember his name. I also remember him trying to stir up cont
roversy at my book tour in D.C. Nice to meet you, Mr. Peynard.” She gave him a tight smile, extending her hand and found herself looking into the softest pair of light-brown eyes she’d ever seen on a man. With some amount of certainty, she knew for all his life he must have stirred the hearts of females, whether young or old, single or married.

  “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Kanate.” His voice was sincere and smooth. Way too smooth. “No controversy. I am a fan.” His touch was more like a caress and for the brief moment their eyes met, she knew she had to guard herself.

  She withdrew her hand and faced Don. “Thanking God everything went well. Now for some down time.”

  “Praise God,” Don said smiling. “Just to let you know, Chandler has been a great help to us on this book tour. He’s on leave from his job so he volunteered to help with logistics and communication.”

  Oh, that explains it. Rozene attempted a polite smile. “Thanks, Mr. Peynard. We appreciate your help, and of course, you will be rewarded.”

  Chandler’s lips slanted in an amused smile.

  “No payment necessary,” Donovan jumped in. “He was only helping out.”

  “Well, thanks again,” Rozene said to Chandler before turning to Donovan. “I’m going to sit near the door. Please let me know when you’re ready.”

  “No need. Chandler has volunteered to take you back to the hotel.”

  No! “Mr. Peynard has done enough, I wouldn’t want-”

  “Please call me Chandler. It’s not a problem, Mrs. Kanate. I’m staying at the same hotel.”

  “O-Okay. Let me get my portfolio.”

  She turned, fully aware that in return she should have told him to refer to her as Rozene. But she wouldn’t do that, mostly because she needed the reminder she was a married woman.

  “Don.” She faced him. “Have a safe trip back. Tell Marianne thanks for lending you to me. I’m sure she can’t wait to have you home.”