The Graft [antikvár]

Prologue It was so hot in the room, like an oven. He could feel the sweat trickling down his face and wiped it away carelessly. He wished that it would rain, that the storm would break and everything would finally be over. The thought brought a smile to Nick Leary's handsome face. He was restless, tired but far from sleep. Unable to sleep. He had too much to think about. His wife was sleeping soundly beside him, her faint snoring loud in the quiet room. She was as usual curled up in a ball, her face devoid of the frown lines that daybreak inevitably brought with it. Her blond hair was still immaculate even as she slept. Tammy never looked untidy, it was part of her personality. He believed that if she had a head-on crash in her 4x4 she would die with every hair in