Heartbeat

By Mary Winter

Reba Dailey thought she had everything she wanted...until a heart attack brought her face-to-face with death. Now, no longer able to continue her high-power job as an advertising executive, she’s forced to discover what she truly wants out of life.

Todd Thorpe knows all about the laws of attraction and how to create energy to heal. He owns Healing Hands, a natural healing center, where he helps people make the most of their life. People like Reba Dailey. One heated kiss four years ago told him they’d be explosive together. And he’s hungered for her ever since.

Now she’s returned, and everything is a matter of a heart. With each steamy encounter, she’s discovering the joy of her new life, and with each heartbeat, she’s falling more and more in love.

This is a re-release of the book previously titled Au Naturel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Winter
• Release date: Jun 4, 2016

Book preview

Heartbeat

Chapter One

Present day

Reba’s mouth watered for a pint of ice cream. She sat on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her and channel surfed through daytime programming. None of the talk shows appealed to her anymore, and frankly, she couldn’t believe she watched the damn things. They were like train wrecks from which she couldn’t pull her attention. But watching the cheating spouses, fighting families and ceaseless paternity tests reminded her that other people had problems, too. At the moment, coping with a bad heart and a near-empty checkbook, she’d prefer the stuff that filled the daytime airwaves. Each passing month made her doubt she’d ever again be the successful advertising barracuda she’d once been. At least with a cheating spouse, she could kick him out and go on with her life.

She sipped a cup of herbal tea, wishing instead for a good, strong espresso. Well, if wishes were diamonds she’d sparkle. She struggled to give up caffeine at her doctor’s insistence, and she had to admit she didn’t miss the jumpy-jittery feeling she’d gotten after three cups in the morning, and the insomnia that came from drinking it too late into the night. Yeah, when all things were considered, things could be worse. Her health had stabilized to the point where the doctors no longer looked surprised she’d lasted as long as she had. Now, if only she could improve enough to go back to work. She tapped her toe impatiently.

Reba looked out the large picture window of the old two-story home she now shared with her best friend Hope. College students hurried past with leaden backpacks. Overhead dark, gray clouds promised afternoon rain. Nowadays, she took time to notice things like the weather and the shifting patterns of clouds. A large oak tree stood beyond the window with budding branches reaching toward the sky, a reminder that after a long, cold winter comes spring. She hoped her spring arrived soon.

Her long flannel nightgown and fuzzy slippers kept her warm. Clothes once purchased from designer stores now came from thrift stores. Tired of lounging around the house, Reba decided to get dressed. Perhaps she could improve her mood by improving her appearance. If nothing else, it might shake her out of the inertia into which she’d fallen. After all, even if she didn’t have a million dollars, she could still try to look like she did.

She stood and padded down the short hall from the living room into her bedroom. A few moments later she emerged dressed in a pair of wool socks, jeans and a champagne-colored sweater. She paused at the end of the hall, gazing toward the very same spot where she’d kissed Todd all those years ago. Her lips went dry. Leaning a hip against the dining room table, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Regrets rose to the forefront, reminding her of things she’d neglected, including her love life. And Todd.

A door opened, shaking her out of her thoughts. Reba hurried into the kitchen to meet her friend Hope. As soon as the willowy blonde stepped inside, Reba grabbed a couple of grocery bags from her arms and set them on the counter.

Here, let me get that. Reba reached for another large shopping bag.

Thanks, Hope said. She juggled her remaining packages and placed them on the counter.

Reba started to put groceries away, thankful to have something helpful to do. You’re home early and you look like you’re planning on cooking for an army. I wish I’d known you were on your way. I’d have held open the door or something.

Well they’re predicting snow flurries instead of rain now, and people drive like maniacs once there’s a little bit of white stuff on the ground. Besides, you’re putting away the groceries. That’s a big help, and we both know that your lungs don’t like the cold air. Hope folded the grocery bags and slipped them under the sink.

Reba didn’t answer. She liked Hope for her straightforward talk. Sure, the cold air hurt her lungs, but they both knew Reba did things she shouldn’t. Taking extra grocery bags that weighed over the doctor’s recommended limit came second nature to Reba, and Hope trusted her to do nothing to harm herself. The two women finished putting the groceries away in silence. The sheer domesticity of the action overwhelmed Reba.

I’m afraid I didn’t vacuum today, Reba said. I didn’t feel up to it. I’ll try tomorrow. She filled a mug with water and set it in the microwave.

No worries. Hope slid the last cans of pie filling on the shelf and started for the living room. I know you do what you can do.

Through the open bar area separating the kitchen from the living room, Reba watched Hope kick off her shoes. She sank onto the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

Now that’s much better. Even half days at the hospital run me ragged.

Short-staffed again? Reba asked over the ding of the microwave. She took two steaming mugs of refreshing berry tea into the living room. Here, have a cup of tea. She handed the mug to Hope before sitting in the recliner.

Thanks. You're so good to me. Maybe I can call Todd and ask him to give me a massage. He does great work. You should have one. It’ll relax you. Warm, strong hands, some aromatherapy, maybe even a pedicure. You’ll feel like a new woman.

Hope usually avoided mentioning Todd, so it shocked Reba that her friend did so now. The regret she’d battled lately reared its ugly head again. Reba maintained her pleasant expression when all she really wanted to do was sink further down the slippery slope of bad self-esteem. All that heavenly treatment comes with a hellish price tag, I’m sure. My disability check doesn’t cover much anymore. Thirty-five and on disability. Reba resisted the urge to snort with derision.

Well, I bet Todd could help you out. I know he practices reiki, which helps with energy flows. He’s introduced me to marvelous theories about how the mental and emotional body fit the physical. Hope removed her tea bag from her mug and sipped. Oh that’s wonderful, thanks for bringing me tea.

You’re welcome. You’ve mentioned that reiki stuff before. I guess I still find it hard to believe. I’m a hands-on kind of woman, you know. If I can’t see it, feel it or touch it, then it’s not real. Reba flipped up the footrest on the recliner and leaned back. Then again, her pursuit of real had her climbing the corporate ladder until her heart attack had sent her plummeting back to earth.

A little belief is a good thing, Hope said. She finished her tea and set the mug on the table by the couch. She stared at Reba for long moments, looking as if she wanted to say something more. With a small shake of her head, she finally spoke. I really think you should call Todd’s practice, Healing Hands. They have lots of therapies there, and I’m sure it will be good for you.

Reba told herself her friend was trying to help, even if it was a brutal reminder of her monetary situation. All right. I’ll think about it. She pushed in the footrest on the recliner then rose and carried her friend’s cup into the kitchen. She poured herself a second cup of herbal tea and carried it into her bedroom.

The hodgepodge of the room reflected her mental state. The double bed with its plain wooden headboard against one wall took up most of the space in the room. A dresser, desk and a nightstand left little room for her art supplies. In the corner by the closet stood an easel with a partially finished painting, this one a picture of an oak tree with turning leaves. Reba went to the desk by the door and stared at her pile of medical bills. Modern medicine took her so far, but lately, it seemed she’d been held at a plateau. The mitral valve prolapse she’d been born with cascaded into chronic heart failure and a heart attack a few years ago, requiring extensive surgery. It was just bad luck that, when she was rocketing her way to the top of her field, this rare condition took her down.

It’d been a year since her last hospitalization and she felt all right. But she tired easily, and as Hope pointed out, the cold air affected her breathing. She hated not working. She’d always kept busy. Now she was going crazy from the forced inactivity. She tried to busy herself by doing dishes and housework and little things for Hope as a way to repay her kindness in letting her stay. Hope had always assured Reba that, because of her twelve-hour shifts at the hospital, she appreciated having someone there to watch the house and help out with the little things. But lately Reba felt underfoot.

Reba grabbed a phone book from the shelf above the desk. A few moments of page turning brought her to a tasteful ad for Healing Hands. Their services included massage, aromatherapy, reiki, meditation and a few other things she’d never heard about. Intrigued, she picked up the handset. One appointment wouldn’t hurt, especially since Hope recommended them.

She dialed the phone.

On the third ring, a man answered. Healing Hands, this is Todd. His warm voice sounded like sunshine on a cold winter’s day, driving away the chill of a too-rough world.

Reba swallowed hard and mustered the courage of the former advertising shark. She’d faced down corporate execs and negotiated countless delicate deals. Surely she could manage to make an appointment—even with a man whose long-ago calls she’d never found time to return. Hi, Todd. It’s Reba, and I… Suddenly she couldn’t speak. What was she supposed to do? Ask for an apology? Admit she was only calling because Hope had suggested it? Reba shifted her weight from side to side.

I’d like to make an appointment, she said in a rush of words.

~* * *~

Todd sat behind the marble desk in the reception area of Healing Hands. On the stereo, a New Age CD played softly in the background. The calming scent of lavender wafted from an electric oil burner on the desk and in the window, prisms cast rainbows over the white tiled floor and baby blue couches and benches. Everything about Healing Hands was designed to provoke the senses and soothe the body.

Reba’s voice on the phone shattered that calm. Taking a deep breath, Todd leaned back in the chair. The hesitant voice on the other end of the line sounded so different from the high-powered corporate woman he’d known.

Deciding to let her set the tone, he pulled on his professional mask. Reba, I’m glad you called. We offer many services. What would you like? If he lowered his voice on the last question, he blamed it on the memory of the heated kiss they’d shared years ago. He remembered Hope recently mentioning something about Reba experiencing a slight medical problem. She’d been vague, and he’d been so busy building his business he hadn’t had time for following up. And anyway, Reba hadn’t seemed too interested. Just hearing her voice, however, brought the image of that slinky silver dress, the way the front plunged to reveal the rounded globes of her breasts. He remembered her scent, her taste, everything about her.

He hoped she picked a massage, which he’d deliver personally. He’d been mad when she’d brushed him off and hadn’t returned his calls. Then, as he discovered what it took to build a business, he’d taken a Zen-like attitude. Water under the bridge and all of that. Now she’d come back into his life, and he firmly believed nothing happened without a good reason. Frankly, his libido wanted her lying on his massage table naked with his oiled hands working tension from every muscle. He struggled to stay professional, but his cock hardened thinking about the slide of skin against skin and her sighs of pleasure filling his ears. He remembered the sway of hips and the way her long legs looked in high heels. Back then, she’d looked like a woman in need of relaxation—and he’d gladly provide the service for free.

I don’t know, she said, sounding hesitant. To be honest, I don’t know what most of them are.

He imagined what it might have cost her not only to pick up the phone, but also to admit her lack of knowledge. Well, we offer relaxation and stress-reduction services like massage, meditation, aromatherapy and general spa services. If you’d like more in-depth work, we offer reiki treatments, chakra cleansing and more. For your first session, I’d recommend reiki, which will work with the energy of the entire body. From there, we can customize your treatment program. He flipped open his calendar. We have an opening tomorrow afternoon. I’d be happy to pencil you in.

Okay, she said. I didn’t expect to have an appointment made so soon. How much does it cost?

The hesitancy in her voice was stronger now, and he guessed her medical difficulties had resulted in financial problems as well. He reached for a student flyer folded by the computer. One complimentary session, the coupon read, and although the special ended yesterday, he figured he could make a few quick changes in his word processing program and have it extended just for her. One of the perks of owning his own business.

We have a special where you can get one complimentary treatment, he said. Then if you think it helps, we can discuss options and pricing.

That’s great, she said, relief filling her voice. I’d love to have that appointment, if it works out for you.

Perfectly. He marked the calendar, noting that he’d be the one performing the consultation. He had already cut back on his clients, preferring instead to oversee the clinic as well as spend less time in the office. In his basement, a stained-glass piece called out to be finished. He’d planned to take tomorrow afternoon off to do just that, but it would wait. Healing came first.

Is there anything I need to bring or do to prepare? I’ve never tried anything like this before.

Just bring yourself. We have a few forms to complete for new clients, but that’s it. I look forward to seeing you again. Todd grinned.

Yes, likewise. Thank you again. And, Todd…I’m so sorry I never returned your calls.

Her soft admission caught him by surprise. Yeah, me too, he replied. You’re calling now though. That’s the important thing.

Thanks. I appreciate that. Have a good day, she replied, slightly breathless.

You too, he answered. He waited a moment longer, and then the phone line disconnected. Todd fought to wipe the silly grin off his face. Something told him Reba needed lots of healing, and he’d be more than happy to help.

~* * *~

The sleek, bright offices of Healing Hands instantly put Reba at ease. Bells jingled as she opened the door and stepped inside. She hung her coat and scarf on a coat tree near the door and walked to a marble desk, behind which a young brunette sat. She’d had literally hundreds of doctor appointments and she’d never once been nervous. All morning she’d battled the urge to cancel the appointment or maybe just not show up. Todd’s easy acceptance of her apology kept her from chickening out. Once she’d entered the doors, the soothing environment comforted her. I have an appointment with Todd.

Your name, please? The brunette smiled and looked up from her computer.

Reba Dailey.

The woman keyed a few things into the computer. There you are. If you wouldn’t mind filling out some paperwork, Todd will be right out. She handed over a clipboard with three forms. Just fill these out to the best of your ability and bring them into the session with you.

Reba accepted the clipboard, glad to be back on more familiar territory. From her many visits to various doctors’ offices, she had filled out more than her share of paperwork. She accepted a pen from the receptionist then sat on a plush blue couch. The fabric molded to her, cushioning her as if she sat on a cloud. She started to fill out the forms, mostly contact information, health history and why she sought treatment. She thought for a moment about that one, and then decided to put down to improve my health.

She finished her forms just as Todd entered the waiting area. He wore a navy blue sweater, thick and warm looking, and a pair of dark blue jeans that molded to his legs. Heavy boots kept his feet toasty. With the chilly air outside, he looked ready for the late March weather.

Her mouth went dry. Masculine strength radiated from him, a virile power that called to her. Her memoires hadn’t done the man justice. Her womb clenched as she imagined