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company’s savior.
    Somehow, without understanding why, Zach knew Anya Valorian was the answer to all his prayers. Somehow, he knew she could insure his success with Renee Alexander Cosmetics. She alone could help him vindicate a past that kept eating away at him, no matter how hard he tried to forget.
    Together they could create magic.
    Zach didn’t stop to measure the rationality of his thoughts. He merely accepted them, and with renewed determination, he punched a button on the wall phone in the bathroom. His office was automatically dialed, and his secretary’s voice came over the speaker. Over the soft hum of his electric razor, Zach began to issue a list of instructions for the day.
    Today he would see Anya Valorian again. Today he would make her listen to his proposal. Today he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
    Today she would finally be his.
    * * *
    The doorbell rang persistently.
    Anya was tired, and the noise grated on her nerves. She knew she should sleep. The room was dim and peaceful, and she could feel the lethargic pull. But she forced herself to remain awake, to be a part of the day as she was of the night.
    It was a pitiful attempt to cling to her former self, she knew, but some of her best poetry was written by day. That was when she felt her loss the most keenly—when the sunshone brilliantly outside on a world she could only live in now in memory.
    How many times had she written about her last sunrise? How many times had she pictured in her mind that soft glow on the horizon, so tenuous at first it almost seemed imagined? And then growing brighter, gathering strength, spreading its golden fingers across the dark purple sky as it chased away the shadows.
    And, oh, then, that first breathtaking view of the sun as it rose majestically over the horizon! So beautiful and wondrous and almost mystical in remembrance.
    Anya sighed as she put her hands to her face, blocking an image that was at once compelling and depressing. How long could she continue to hover between the two worlds? she wondered in despair. Longing for one, denying the other, but belonging to neither.
    The bell sounded again, an irritating reminder of her limitations. Anya scowled. Why didn’t Freida answer the door? It might be the mailman. Anya was expecting a package from Dr. Traymore, a friend of hers who lived in Towering Oaks, the little town in Maine she’d retreated to years ago.
    Dr. Traymore had been a close friend of Anya’s grandmother. He owned a bookstore in Towering Oaks, specializing in rare volumes, but he had once been an archaeologist. His travels still took him all over Europe and the Middle East. Over the years, he’d learned things, secrets, legends…. He’d guessed Anya’s secret long ago and, like Karl and Freida Aldermann, had sworn to help her.
    He was abroad now, someplace in Germany, traveling and searching. He was onto something, he’d told her. He was sending her information on a book he’d heard about, an antique Latin volume that could be of great interest to them both.
    Excitement stirred in Anya as she opened the door of her room and ventured into the hallway. The bell sounded again, the third time. From experience Anya knew people usually gave up after the third try.
    “Freida!” she called. She was standing on the landing now. The hallway behind her lay deep in shadows. All the upstairs windows were tightly shuttered against the daylight.
    To Anya’s relief she heard Freida answer the door. “Is it my package?” Anya called anxiously.
    Her housekeeper’s voice suddenly rose in agitation, and in the next instant, Zach Christopher stepped past Freida, into the foyer. His gaze traveled up the curving staircase to meet Anya’s.
    Anya shrank back into the shadows, but he had already seen her. Freida appeared at his side, dwarfed by Zach’s height and presence. “You’ll have to leave,” she said primly, the threat in her voice undaunted by his size. “You can’t barge in here like