There was nothing startling about the news story.

TONY DIMERA BUYS ADVERTISING COMPANY IN SALEM

Obviously, it was a slow news day for the London Spectator. Ever since Jack and Jennifer Deveraux took over as co-editors of the newspaper a year or so ago, there was a steady stream of stories printed about the goings on of the Dimeras every day. As if anyone in England cared about some Italian mobster in America named Stefano DiMera! And readers cared even less if Tony Dimera could ever reclaim the dignity of his fallen and notorious family name.

No, the article was not what had caught Phoebe's eye.

It was the picture.

On the front page of the business section was a large color photograph of Tony Dimera in a gray business suit. With his black hair, tanned skin and intense eyes, he was definitely a handsome man. Any red-blooded woman would look at his photograph twice. And yet, for Phoebe, it was something more than that. It was not just like looking at a movie star or a model.

There was something so...familiar...about him.

Phoebe felt a strange need to reach out to this man. As she studied his face, she felt such an inexplicable sense of loss.

Ridiculous!

The lovely brunette swore as she threw the paper down upon the bedroom floor, getting hold of herself. It was Christmas Eve. She had a party to host tonight, complete with all of her husband's relatives coming from all around the globe to meet her. She did not have time to think about who that man was...

And yet those dark eyes would not seem to let her go.

What if Tony Dimera wasn't just a stranger?

Even as Phoebe put on her elegant red evening gown, his eyes seemed to follow her. She could not help but glance time to time at the newspaper on the floor, making contact with the brooding eyes which seemed to hold such secrets. Always watching her...as she put on her earrings, her stockings, her high heeled shoes...

"Who are you?" Phoebe murmured. "Tony..."

Even the sound of his name on her lips made her shiver strangely as she dabbed perfume behind her ears.

No man's ever going to make love to you again, do you know that?...Just me...

The perfume bottle fell from her grasp with a crash onto the marbled bathroom floor, shattering into several pieces.

That voice! It seemed so real, like...a memory...

"Darling?"

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Are you all right?" her husband called out. "I heard quite the racket in here. Did you break something?"

Phoebe parted her lips to answer; but she was not ready to come back to the present. Not yet. Not when she was close to having a memory.

"Phoebe?"

Her husband walked into the bedroom, touching her shoulders, forcing her out of her daze.

"Yes, I...I'm okay. I think. I dropped a perfume bottle."

"I'll get Dale to look after it."

"Okay."

Phoebe continued putting on her makeup, trying not to seem as upset as she felt. Was it happening at last? Was this block in her mind finally letting go? Or was she just having a nervous breakdown?

"You look awfully pale, darling," her husband said with concern, stroking her face. "Feeling okay?"

Phoebe smiled wanly at her husband, grabbed his hand and nodded.

"Yes, I think so. It's just that..."

"There's nothing to be worried about, you know."

He pulled her into his embrace.

Phoebe gazed upon the reflection of the two of them in the bathroom mirror. They made such a handsome couple together.

"You're just meeting my children," he soothed. "And I know they'll grow to love you as much as I do."

"It's not that. It's just..."

She pulled away from him, crouched down and reached for the copy of the London Spectator that she had thrown down.

"This man..." She pointed at Tony Dimera's picture. "Did you know him? When you used to live in Salem?"

Her husband grimaced at the sight of the picture.

"No, our paths never crossed much. Thank heavens! Although I've had to deal with his father more times than I care to remember."

"You mean...Stefano Dimera, the criminal?"

"Yes."

"Odd."

Her husband's eyes crinkled with humor.

"Why all of this interest in the Dimera family all of the sudden?"

"There was something about this man, this Tony Dimera, that seems so familiar. I almost thought I heard his voice a moment ago. It's so crazy. Do you think that maybe...maybe my memory might be coming back?"

"That would be wonderful, sweetheart," her husband enthused, hugging her. Then his eyes grew hard with concern. "Only I worry if you have recollections that have anything to do with the Dimeras. They're nothing but trouble. Always have been. They're dangerous, in fact."

A chill went up Phoebe's spine as she contemplated what it might mean...if the Dimeras were part of her past.

"Never you mind, darling," her husband soothed, holding her.. "I'll always be here to protect you, no matter what you find out."

"I know," Phoebe smiled, trying to shake away the darkness of her thoughts. "I am well aware of what a wonderful husband I have!"

"Yes...and don't you forget it! But enough of all of this. It's Christmas Eve. And the entire clan is downstairs, eagerly awaiting to meet my new bride. Eve, Andrew, Jeannie...the whole bloody lot of them, all driving me mad with questions about you."

"Far be it for me to keep them waiting!" Phoebe Donovan answered with a playful smirk, forcing herself to forget those weird feelings.

"That's my little southern belle spitfire!" Shane Donovan teased, taking his wife's hand and leading her downstairs to the drawing room of Donovan Manor.

------------------------------

"Renee!"

Tony Dimera awoke with a start, having just had the worst nightmare about his poor Renee. It was all too vivid, seeing her struggle with Andre, falling to the ground in agony with the knife plunged into her back. Lying there, broken and alone, dying as the monstrous Andre Dimera placed a raven's feather in her hand...

How odd that he should dream about her again, after all of these years. He thought he had exorcised that ghost long ago. Yet the dream was so clear...as if it had all happened yesterday. And it was as if he had seen and felt everything that she had endured during her murder. He could only hope Renee had not suffered in real life as much as she had in his nightmare.

Oh, how horrible and frightening that nightmare had been. Almost as frightening as the look on his ex-wife's face now...

Oh, dear lord! Anna had heard him cry out.

She had always been the jealous type. And her rivalry with Renee had been an especially brutal one.

Tony steeled himself for battle. This would not be pleasant.

"You dream about Renee?" Anna asked softly. "You still dream about her? After all this time?"

The hurt in Anna's voice broke his heart. It wasn't as if he had dreamt of Renee on purpose, of course. But there was always a part of his heart reserved for Renee, his lost love so tragically taken away just when they had found each other again. And he suspected that he would never be able to truly forget her, no matter how hard he tried.

"It's some trick...competing with a ghost..."Anna said morosely.

Tony sighed with frustration. He wanted Anna to be her spunky self, to yell at him, to put him through the paces for daring to dream about another woman besides her. If she would only fight with him, they could have it out, complete with delicious make-up sex in the shower later. But she had a deep pained look in those lovely eyes. One he hadn't seen in years, decades...

Quickly, he arose from the bed, throwing on a silk robe. Not only did he need to escape Anna's merciless gaze, but he needed to get hold of himself. The intensity of the dream, the tragedy and pain of it all had left him shaking.

"Don't be silly, Anna," he laughed with a humor he did not feel.

"You said her name. I heard you!"

"Well, what if I did?" Tony shrugged. "It was just a dream. That's all. Are you going to send me out to the doghouse over a dream? Don't tell me you've never dreamed about Roman."

"I haven't!" she protested, eyes wide. "Not lately! Well...at least, not since I found you again anyway..."

"Oh, forget it. It was just a dream, Anna. I probably had too much champagne last night."

"It sounded more like a nightmare to me than a dream," she answered. "Look at you. You're in a cold sweat! It must have been a really horrible nightmare. Poor Tony."

Tony nodded, feeling more than a little shaken.

"Yes. It was," he confessed.

"Of course, I suppose any dream with Re-nay would have to be a nightmare now, wouldn't it?"

Tony smiled softly. If Anna was getting her vicious sense of humor back, that was a good sign.

"That's my catty Contessa!" Tony teased, taking her by the hand and leading her to the shower. "I'll make it up to you and give you a good rubdown in the shower."

"Ex-contessa, remember?"

Tony grimaced, remembering their recent argument regarding his proposal of marriage, or rather lack of one.

"Mmmm..." Anna purred with that saucy look returning in her eye. "But I always like your...rubdowns...in the shower."

"I know..."Tony purred back with a devilish grin.

"And then you'll take me out to brunch at Chez Rouge later, right?" Anna asked, trailing her fingernails along his chest. "I'm absolutely famished already!"

Tony smiled, knowing that all was well with the world again if Anna had her infamous appetite back.

And yet, it was not until Tony could lose himself in the steam of the shower and Anna's soft skin that he could dispel the haunting cold chill that overwhelmed him.