Irresistible Forces

woman's guilty expression, and a sinking sensation struck.

No. She couldn't accept that. Nick had never given her reason to believe he was unfaithful.

The lights and sirens signaled the beginning of the next act, and the crowd went wild, forcing Margo to shove her suspicions aside. Nick was dead, and thinking ill of him was wrong. Still, how did Raquel know so much?

Once the dancers entered the stage, Mrs. Brown leapt to her feet and gave a wolf whistle that would have put the most sexist construction worker to shame.

Steph laughed, and Margo turned her attention to Jared. He was dancing for her again — now she knew that for certain. No one else in the room knew his real identity, or why he meant so much to her. Tears scalded her eyes, but she blinked the liquid traitors away, focusing instead on holding Jared's gaze.

Watching him reminded her again of his kiss. Her body softened and heated, hungry for him. And why shouldn't she indulge her desire? After all, she was single, and it wasn't as if Jared was a stranger. He'd been her first lover. Her first love.

Her only love?

Guilt shoved its ugly face to the forefront of her mind again. If any other man had attracted her attention, would she feel this way? The answer came swiftly — a resounding no.

Oh, but she had loved him. And… she still did. Her heart raced ahead as she gathered that knowledge about her like a protective cloak. She wanted to invite Jared home with her tonight. Could she find the courage? And could she forget the past enough to think of a future with him?

Nothing ventured… A smile curved her lips, and she blew Jared a kiss before she lost her resolve.

'Well, isn't that special?' Raquel muttered.

Margo girded herself and faced Raquel. A myriad of emotions danced in the woman's eyes — regret, sadness, and something more.

'He's Margo's,' Steph told Mrs. Brown.

'Lucky girl!' Mrs. Brown laughed. 'If my hormones were thirty years younger, I'd give you a little competition.'

Raquel extended her glass toward Margo, her eyes misty. 'I wish you the best in every… way.' Her voice broke, and she drew a shaky breath.

'Thank you.' Margo wasn't sure what else to say. Why did this strange woman's words mean so much? Why was Margo relieved to hear her say them? It was almost as if she needed Raquel's approval to seduce Jared. Ridiculous.

Of course, what Margo really wanted with Jared was a lot more than merely a night of sex. Her face flamed, and her heart did a pirouette.

Nick is dead, Margo. She didn't need anyone's permission to do whatever she wanted with Jared or any other man. She'd been a good wife to Nick. Hadn't she?

Wouldn't he forgive her now, knowing she was still in love with Jared?

No, probably not. Though she'd loved Nick in her own way, she hadn't been blind to his faults. He'd been pretty self-centered, and competitive to the extreme. She sighed. Especially with Jared.

Somehow, she had to come to terms with all this, because she couldn't let Jared just walk out of her life again. She needed this — needed him — in her life.

Give me strength.

Determined, she turned her attention back to the stage, watching Jared do things with his hips that set her insides ablaze. She bit her lower lip and sighed.

'Ooops.'

Margo glanced over to find Steph shoving napkins toward Raquel, who had spilled her drink.

When Margo met Raquel's gaze, a jolt went through her. The woman's eyes had disturbed her before, and now she knew why. Without all the makeup, Raquel's eyes were just like Nick's.

Impossible.

Raquel's expression grew solemn, and she gave Margo a sheepish grin as she pushed to her feet. 'Be right back.' Raquel left the table to weave her way toward the rest rooms.

'She's wearing sneakers,' Steph said. 'Amazing transformation. Kind of like a butterfly in reverse.'

'PMS.' Mrs. Brown sipped her tropical beverage, her gaze never leaving the stage. 'Can I take one of them home with me?'

Steph laughed. 'Now, what would Mr. Brown think of that?'

'He won't care. He's been dead ten years.'

He won't care. He's been dead… Mrs. Brown's words echoed through Margo's brain. She was alive. She had a right to lead a happy and fulfilled life.

With anyone she pleased.

Would Nick's ghost always lurk between them? Would his memory always create this surge of guilt in Margo's heart and mind? Did Jared feel guilty about Nick?

And who the hell was Raquel Eastwood?

Deciding to focus on the present for now, she looked at the stage gain. The set ended, and Jared blew Margo a kiss as he followed the other dancers offstage. Somehow, she would find a way to come to terms with everything.

Right now, though, Margo had to find out why and how Raquel Eastwood had looked at her with her late husband's eyes. And how she knew so many things about him.

'Running to the rest room.' Without giving her sister a chance to respond, Margo rose and made her way through the crowd on wooden legs. Had she lost her mind? This was crazy — whatever this was.

Reincarnation? Margo didn't know much about such things, but it seemed to her that people weren't reincarnated back into the same lifetime they'd left. Were they? Wouldn't that disrupt the space/time continuum? Or something?

Gibberish. She squared her shoulders and turned down the dark hallway leading to the rest rooms. A movement at the end of the hallway caught her attention — another door opening and a redheaded woman slipping through it.

Margo didn't hesitate. She shoved open the same door and realized it was some kind of storage area, with another door leading outside. What was Raquel doing back here?

'Come on, Seamus,' Raquel said to the stacks of boxes. 'Cut me some slack here. She's on to me.'

Was Raquel talking to herself? 'Who's Seamus? And who's on to you?'

Raquel slowly turned to face Margo. She drew a deep breath and held her hands out at her sides, palms up. 'He's… an angel.'

Margo looked around the deserted room again, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she could barely hear anything else. 'Your… guardian angel?'

'I guess you could say that, with the emphasis on guard. Never gives me a moment's peace.'

'Who are you?'

Raquel stared at Margo for several seconds. 'I think you know.'

Margo shook her head. 'No, I don't.' She backed toward the door. This was insane. 'You have Nick's eyes, and you know things Nick knew. But he's dead.'

Raquel nodded, and resignation filled her expression. 'And he's going to stay that way.'

'Who are you?' Margo repeated, reaching behind her for the doorknob.

'Seamus, let me be myself now.' Raquel glanced toward the ceiling. 'Please?'

Margo needed air, and Raquel needed a good psychologist. 'I'm going back to watch the show now,' she said carefully, not wanting to upset Raquel. 'How about you?'

Raquel just stood there, staring at Margo, taunting her with her dead husband's eyes.

'Are you Nick's sister?' she finally asked, though she knew Nick didn't have any siblings.