It was five o'clock in the morning when Aliana woke from yet another bizarre dream. It was unlike anything she had experienced until now.
She ran a shaky hand through her hair as she sat up, leaning back against the headboard of her hotel suite. Her breathing was ragged, her face flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her skin. Taking a deep breath, she tried to force her racing heart to calm.
Leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands, whispering into the quiet of the room as she recalled fragments of the vision. "Just what was that?"
Her fingers still tingled with the phantom sensation of tracing the hard, sculpted lines of a man's body. She could still feel the burning trail his hands had left across her skin. She couldn't remember his face, yet that voice... it had whispered her name.
"Aliana..."
