What the Heart Wants

  * * * * *

  Early Praise for What the Heart Wants…

  “Prophetic dreams, psychic connections, and a bond that defies space and time…What the Heart Wants is a refreshing twist to the paranormal genre.”

  ParaYourNormal

  Book Reviewer

  “Mystifying and intriguing. What the Heart Wants will steal your breath away.”

  Your Need to Read

  5/5 Stars, Reviewer

  “Simply captivating. I dare you not to swoon.”

  Amber Scott,

  Author

  Irish Moon

  “From life’s first breath, they were bound by destiny. Can their love survive those that would tear them apart? What the Heart Wants is beautifully written. I felt the angst and love of both characters. Dylan and Heaven really touched a place in my heart.

  Elena Gray

  Author

  Widowmaker

  “What The Heart Wants is one of the best paranormal romances available today. If you are looking for vampires or werewolves you will not find it in What The Heart Wants. Instead, what you will find is a mesmerizing story that hooks you in right from the beginning and will keep you intrigued until the very end. You will find yourself saying, ‘It cannot be over...I need more.’ I expect more great things coming to us from the pen of Kelli McCracken.”

  J.B. Reed

  Author

  Deadly Shamrocks

  * * * * *

  Start Reading

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Also by Kelli McCracken

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  WHAT THE HEART WANTS

  By Kelli McCracken

  * * * * *

  PROLOGUE

  The crescendo of his heartbeat rose in his ears. It began as a low, deep sound of a bass drum accelerating to the medium tone of the tom-tom. It drowned out all other sounds of that glorious day, like the cheerful song of the spring robin. His ears turned deaf to every audible vibration, including the wind rustling through the branches of the willow tree.

  Why couldn’t he hear the wind? It tussled his long, russet hair with each gust. The strands played against his stubbled jawline. The tree, the birds, and the wind were blocked from his mind. Nothing deterred him from his fascination with her.

  His eyes coursed over her delicate features. Her chestnut-colored curls. Her high cheekbones. Her full, voluptuous lips…

  To call her beautiful would have been unjust. While her beauty compared to that of Aphrodite, her soul radiated like an angel. Soft. Sweet. Heavenly. The breeze blew her hair from the nape of her neck, the ringlets swaying in the air. A scent of sandalwood rushed through his nose, intoxicating him.

  Her skin, a soft shade of peaches-and-cream, glistened every time gilded sunrays broke through the swaying branches of the weeping willow.

  When he gazed down into her eyes, his breath caught. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat, but his constricted chest held it in place. Her warm, inviting eyes were a rich shade of gold woven with flecks of olive green. She was looking past him to the broken, shale wall surrounding the estate.

  Something about the lush green grass and the smell of roses tugged at him. Wasn’t I about to… God, she’s beautiful. He ignored his duties. Why shouldn’t he? Nothing could be more important than this moment under the willow tree with her, his golden-eyed angel.

  His eyes searched hers for proof that she sensed the same magnetic force drawing them together. A force so powerful it was irrefutable as it called to his soul.

  He waited for her to meet his gaze, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. The motion captured her attention. Her mesmerizing eyes focused back on his face. He released his breath, exhaling a slow sigh as he watched a smile spread across her lips.

  Those lips…

  He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. It made his heart hasten when he imagined them pressed to his, allowing him to taste their sweetness.

  She stepped in, closing the distance between them. Her eyes descended from his, lingering on his broad shoulders. He watched in silent awe as her arm stretched toward him. When her gentle fingers touched his skin, a line of fire coursed through every nerve, wrapping him in a cloud of desire. He fought against the groan creeping up from his lungs as her fingertips stroked his skin.

  Her eyes wandered further down his body, focusing on his taut muscles.

  In the passing breaths, his eyes fell to her tiny waist and well-curved hips.

  Every single inch—a masterpiece.

  He could no longer withhold his desire to touch perfection. Reaching out to her, he hesitated for a heartbeat, but then pushed his fears aside. His hand caressed her neck, sweeping slowly up skin as soft as rose petals until he cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes, her breath releasing a gentle sigh.

  Her subtle reactions affected his soul. He knew women, but not like this. They’d never found the secret chamber that held his heart; had never come close to touching it. But this beautiful angel in front of him—she knew. She’d not only found his heart, she had brought it to life, made it race like a river rushing through a canyon. He wanted her more than a rose wanted sunlight; needed her more than the air he breathed.

  A smile played at the corner of her lips. She leaned her cheek against the warmth of his hand. “Can you feel it?”

  Her voice was like a whisper from heaven. He reveled in it. Wanted to bottle it up and keep the sweet sound with him wherever he went.

  “Yes,” he breathed out.

  She opened her eyes and ran her hands up his arms as he enveloped her in an embrace. Her fingers continued until they met at the back of his neck, interlacing at the nape. His hands met at the small of her back, where they stopped and gathered her dress. The look in her eyes tugged his heartstrings.

  Say it. Tell me what your heart wants. I need to hear you say it.

  Her lips parted, the words playing there as she stared into his eyes. He braced himself, waiting for those words he wanted to hear. His heart no longer raced. It pounded so fiercely he thought it would beat out of his chest.

  But she didn’t speak.

  Let me know those lips.

  She leaned closer.

  Yes.

  His beautiful angel stood on her toes, her lips brushing his in a soft, sweeping motion.

  God, yes!

  To his dismay, the ecstasy that enveloped them ended. Their sweet moment stolen like a priceless jewel. The heat of her body, of their passion, tore from his soul as she pulled away.

  His disappointment consumed him.

  Not again.

  The tears forming in her eyes glistened as a sunray filtered through the dangling branches. Her bottom lip quivered.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cracking between words as he brushed a tear from her cheek. He feared that he already knew the answer, yet was still desperate for her to prove him wrong.

  “You have to wake up, my sweet,” she said, her voice urgent,
desperate.

  “I’m not asleep. How can I wake up if I’m not sleeping?” He reached for her, wanting to pull her against him, to bask in the warmth of her touch.

  She took a step back, tears sliding down her face, lips turning down in a frown. “You must.”

  “No,” he begged. “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His eyes, heavy with sadness, pleaded with her to remain.

  His voice betrayed him when nothing more than a whisper passed over his lips. “Stay.”

  He reached out to her. This time, when he touched her skin, or what should have been her skin, the warmth was gone. There was nothing.

  No!

  His heart squeezed. He tried again, reaching for her, but his fingers caressed nothing but air. His eyes widened.

  God, no…

  Her image weakened. She reached her hand toward his face, as though to stroke it. He couldn’t feel the warmth, just a gentle breeze blowing through his hair.

  Though her silhouette faded, her voice carried once more to his ears. “Wake up. Please, wake up…”

  His heart grew strained with disappointment as the scenery slowly blurred and vanished. He kicked his legs, trying to ground himself as he tumbled into an abyss of darkness. He searched for something to catch him, to stop his descent into black. Nothing was there.

  Suddenly, his body jerked into a sitting position as he gasped. His eyes burned. Bright light reflected off the walls surrounding him.

  My angel.

  He gazed around the room with desperate eyes.

  Where is she?

  His heart pounded fiercely as he searched the room.

  She has to be here.

  He wanted to scream her name, wanted to beg her to return, but couldn’t. He didn’t know her name. The room spun, or at least he thought it did. Maybe it was his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed his head, held it, and tried focusing again,. Inhaling deeply, he smelled the sweet scent of sandalwood.

  Where the hell…

  He opened his eyes, again, taking in beige-colored walls, an oak chest of drawers, clothes strewn across the floor. When his eyes settled on a pair of black, snakeskin boots, his heart panged.

  Of course. I’m here. But that means—

  He was home, in his bedroom, alone. He fell back into the bed as the realization burned into his stomach. Another dream…it was just another dream.

  There was no golden-eyed angel.

  The only thing that remained from the dream was the wicked headache. As much as he wanted to cover his head and never leave the bed, the aspirin in the bathroom called to him.

  As he stood, his foot crunched a can that lay on the carpet. His eyes passed over a shimmering blue and white beer can. An empty liquor bottle lay on its side, just two feet away.

  No wonder my head is pounding.A hangover. I have a damned hangover.

  He laughed, thinking about why he began drinking in the first place. To forget her.

  What a joke. Not all the liquor in the world could erase her image from his mind.

  Staring aimlessly, his heart grew weary, knowing he would never truly feel skin as soft as satin, never look into eyes as rich as marmalade. His soul grew restless.

  She would never be his salvation, only his tormentor.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 1

  “Please wake up…”

  The words slowly rolled off Heaven Lewis’s lips. As the images faded, her mind grasped at the last fragments of her dream.

  But the images, once vibrant hues of green, lilac, and gold, grew darker with each passing second. She wanted to remain in this dream, needed to stay in it to find the answers to her questions—why she was having the same dream, repeatedly.

  She would get no answers this time, either. As she grew closer to the edge of consciousness, a voice barely discernible to the ear called to her soul. There was pleading in the tone; pleading to the point of desperation. The sound stung her heart.

  Stay…

  As if losing the dream wasn’t disappointing enough, the nudge in her ribs ripped away the last dark fragments of her dream.

  “Ouch!” Heaven’s eyes flew open. The elbow met her ribs once more.

  “Get off me!” her sister Faith grumbled in the seat next to hers. “It’s hot enough in here without you laying on me.”

  The dream was gone, but Heaven still felt dazed. She knew she was on a plane, heading to Los Angeles, yet she felt like the kid who fought for the window seat in her parents’ car.

  She leaned to her other side, trying to give Faith her space, only to invade her other sister Hope’s, instead. “There’s no more room on this side, either. Faith can deal. Just ignore her. Trust me; it’s not hard.”

  God, it feels like we’re six, again.

  The thoughts playing in her mind reminded her that she was every bit of twenty-one. Those chocolate eyes—no, more like espresso. They captivated her, even though Faith’s leg shook ninety miles a minute.

  “Why didn’t Chelsea fork out a little extra for first class-seats? I mean, we’re best friends. Aren’t we worth more than coach? Is it too much to—”

  “Zip it, Faith.” Hope cut in. “We’re almost there. And Chelsea is Heaven’s best friend.”

  Faith’s frown consumed her face: brows puckered, eyelids narrowed, lips turned down. Though Heaven empathized with Faith, she knew it was time to play referee before this disagreement turned into a full-blown fight. Despite reaching adulthood, going off to college, and living individual lives—some things never changed.

  But Heaven found herself losing focus. She could still feel espresso eyes devouring her as tiny strands of the dream floated in her mind.

  She inhaled deeply.

  Fresh cloves lingered in the air. Her skin prickled at the familiar scent.

  His scent.

  If she could close her eyes again, she could re-enter the dream; re-enter the happiest time of her life.

  She felt a bony finger firmly poke her shoulder. And then, again. Her muscle burned from the assault. She glanced at Faith, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

  Faith’s jade eyes sparked with anger. “If you’re too worried about offending your best friend, I’ll ask Chelsea why she skimped on the seats.”

  Heaven’s lips parted, but warm fingers curled around her other shoulder, pushing her back.

  Hope leaned forward; her golden brown ringlets swayed gently, but her blue eyes glared at Faith. “Do it! Please, give me a reason to help Chelsea toss your ungrateful butt on the street. Stop being such a—”

  “Come on,” Heaven said, leaning forward to physically separate her siblings. She felt her face heat when the man sitting in front of them glowered. “This may be our last trip together. I want it to be exciting; something we can tell our kids, someday. Can you manage that?”

  “Sure,” Hope replied, brushing back her shoulder length hair as she reclined against her seat, “once Faith gets out of bitch mode.”

  “Says the kettle to the pot,” Faith retorted, slumping back in her seat.

  Heaven watched Faith fan herself with an airplane safety manual. The air stirred as lavender rushed through Heaven’s nose.

  And they say lavender relaxes you. Humph. A field of lavender couldn’t ease my frustrations with Faith. But his lips… Her skin tingled.

  Heaven eased back in her seat. What she wouldn’t give for a steaming cup of coffee—and a matching set of eyes. She wondered if she concentrated hard enough could she remember the rest of the dream?

  Why does it matter? It’s just a dream. He’s not real.

  She closed her eyes, anyway. So what if it was a dream. It was the best part of her day, escaping with him. She wanted to return to him, to stay in the dream.

  Stay…

  Her heart fluttered at the word. Call me back to you…

  Faith tugged at her short skirt. Her fidgeting hands brushed Heaven’s leg, sweeping the fragments of her dream under a mental carpet.

  Only Faith could get by with a sk
irt that short.

  She wished her sister wouldn’t dress so provocatively. It drew the wrong attention. But try telling that to Faith who right now was exaggerating her movements as the man across the aisle tried not to stare.

  Faith’s need for attention was bad, but her shopping habit left her broke. Luckily, their father had a big heart—and a bigger line of credit. Heaven cringed at the thought of Faith’s plan to hit Rodeo Drive. She’ll max out every credit card Dad gave her.

  “So what does he look like?” Faith asked.

  Heaven gazed over at her sister. “Who?” She didn’t need to ask. Her gut twisted in a warning. Tread lightly.

  “Don’t play stupid.”

  A wave of embarrassment heated Heaven’s cheeks. Her eyes shifted past Faith, out the window to fluffy clouds lining the cerulean sky.

  His dark eyes…such passion inside them. And those lips. I would give up a trip around the world to kiss those—

  “Well?” Faith’s voice felt like a bucket of ice water smacking Heaven in the face. “I’m not asking you to solve Fermat’s Last Theorem. Are you going to tell me about the dream or not? You did have it, again, right?”

  “Yeah,” Heaven whispered. When she met her sister’s eyes, the smile straining her cheeks faded. “I mean no. There was no dream.”

  “You’re lying. You were talking in your sleep. You told someone to wake up.”

  “Leave Heaven alone, Faith.”

  Faith snapped her eyes toward Hope. “Keep your nose buried in Truth Newspaper. Catch up on the latest cat fight between Jen and Angelina; just leave me alone.”

  “You’re majoring in fashion, not psychology. Worry about your portfolio so you can get a top internship in New York or Paris. Heaven’s dreams should be the least of your concerns.”

  “You would love to coordinate my whole life.” Faith said, turning to face the window. “You need to find a project to manage that doesn’t involve me.”