Key Of Knowledge by Nora Roberts

normal.”
    â€œIt is.” She glanced back at him—big, handsome Jordan Hawke watching her with those deep blue eyes. He understood she wasn’t looking for meaningless words of comfort or sympathy.
    â€œIt is,” she repeated, as soothed by his understanding as she’d been by his hands. “I walked toward this grove of palm and fruit trees. I picked a mango. I could taste it,” she paused, touching her fingers to her lips. “Basically, I just walked along thinking, boy, this is the life. But it wasn’t the life, it wasn’t my life. And it’s not what I want, not really.”
    She came back to the couch, afraid her legs might go weak again when she told the rest. “That’s the thought that came into my head—and then I heard voices. Off in the distance, but familiar. And I thought, this isn’t real. It’s just a trick. That’s when it happened. Oh, God.” As her chest tightened again, she pressed her fists between her breasts. “Oh, God.”
    â€œEasy now.” He closed his hands over hers, squeezing lightly until she met his eyes. “Take your time.”
    â€œStorm came in. That’s a mild word for it. When I realized it wasn’t real, the world went to hell. Wind, rain, dark, and the cold. Jesus, Jordan, it was so cold. I starting running. I knew I had to get away, because I wasn’t alone after all. He was there, and he was coming for me. I got back to the beach, but the ocean was insane. Walls of black water, fifty, sixty feet high. I fell. I felt him over me, around me. That cold. And the pain. Horrible, tearing pain.”
    Her voice was breaking. She couldn’t stop it. “He was ripping out my soul. I knew I’d rather face anything but that, so I jumped into the sea.”
    â€œCome here. Come here, you’re shaking again.” He gathered her close.
    â€œI woke up, or came back, whatever it is. In the tub,strangling for air. The bathwater had gone cold. I don’t know how long I’d been out of it, Jordan. I don’t know how long he had me.”
    â€œHe didn’t have you. He didn’t,” he insisted when she shook her head. Gently, he eased her back so he could see her face. “A part of you, that’s all. He can’t get the whole, because he can’t see the whole. A fantasy, like you said. That’s how he works. And he can’t push you into it so deep that a part of your mind doesn’t surface again and question. And know.”
    â€œMaybe not. But he sure knows how to go for the gut. I’ve never been that scared.”
    â€œOnce you move past that into pissed-off, you’ll feel better.”
    â€œYeah, you’re probably right. I want a drink,” she decided and pushed away from him.
    â€œYou want water?” He realized she was coming back fast when the question had her curling her lip at him.
    â€œI want a beer. I never had my bath beer.” She rose, seemed to hesitate. “You want one?”
    Still watching her, he laid his fingers on his own wrist as if checking for a pulse. “Yeah.”
    He liked the way she snickered at him before she walked away. It was a normal sound, a Dana sound. There’d been nothing normal in the way she’d collapsed on him.
    If he hadn’t come by . . . but he had, he reminded himself. He was here, she wasn’t alone. And she’d gotten through it.
    He got to his feet, took his first real look around her place. Pure Dana, he thought. Strong color, comfortable furniture, and books.
    He wandered after her, leaned on the wall. More books, he noted. Who but Dana would keep Nietzsche in the kitchen? “First time I’ve been in your place.”
    She kept her back to him as she opened two beers. “You wouldn’t have gotten in this time if I hadn’t been wigged.”
    â€œDespite that lack of welcome, I like it. Suits you, Stretch. And because it does, I