❤❤❤Woman In The Portrait
Michaela Devlin crossed the large forecourt toward the immense titanium-covered sculptural building glinting in the winter sunlight. She made her way down the awkward stone stairway that marked the museum’s towering entrance, then abruptly stopped in front of a gigantic set of glass doors as a jolt of familiarity hit her and snaked down her spine.
She whispered. “Him.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d sensed Him or tried in vain to recapture vague snippets of memory left in his wake—but the experience had never been as strong or as tangible as it was now.
She frowned and drew in a deep, steadying breath. He’d entered her dreams three months earlier, a faceless shadow who’d unlocked a part of her that she was still trying to define and understand; a part of her that had been screaming for a release she never knew she’d wanted. Or, perhaps she did know. Isn’t that why she divorced Sebastian?
