Reclaimed Page 3

  “Ah, the pleasures of the twenty-first century, huh? Now I don’t have to worry you brushed me off by giving me a fake number,” he said.

  “And now I have your number so I can call and harass you if you don’t call me. It works both ways, buddy,” she replied. She couldn’t believe that she could smile and joke. In her dreams, tenseness usually revolved around them, and the air always filled with a hint of danger.

  “Yes, true. I have to ask. Are you American?”

  “Guilty as charged.” She raised an eyebrow and inquired, “Is that a problem?”

  “Certainly not. I love Americans,” he assured her.

  Too quickly, she snickered.

  “And are you British, or Scottish? I’m having hard time placing your accent. I’m usually so good at that, too.”

  “You’re not to blame for the confusion. I’m a mutt.”

  “From?” she asked. Curiosity made her want to know everything about him, right here, right now.

  And tell me, how do you come to my dreams?

  Yeah, because that would make a good impression, Sabrina. Run from the crazy lady, Isaac.

  He shrugged. “I’m a local, but I’ve moved around a lot. Well, my American friend Sabrina, have no doubt you’ll be hearing from me about our date.” Gallantly bowing over her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles so lightly she thought maybe she’d imagined it. When he withdrew, however, she swore she could feel the fire where his lips had been moments before.

  She barely resisted the urge to place her lips in the same spot on her hand, like a teenager kissing a Robert Pattinson poster.

  Get a grip, Sabrina. He kissed your hand. It’s not like he threw you to the ground and had his way with you.

  I bet you would like him to, wouldn’t you?

  Plastering a smile on her face, she said, “Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled one last time in what she hoped seemed a demure fashion—but more than likely took her another step closer to a padded room—and attempted to walk gracefully to her car. She wondered how graceful she could appear, though, when her heart felt like it would race right out of her chest.

  Great, just great.

  She reached the car and couldn’t decide whether to be terrified her dream had come true, or excited she had met him, and better yet, had a tentative date planned.

  Some way, somehow, her dream had come true. But to even think this man, this Isaac, could invade her subconscious and tell her he would to meet her at a tavern reeked of stupidity. Men didn’t come to you in dreams and claim you as their own, and they certainly didn’t meet you in real life at the places they named in said dreams.

  Things like that just didn’t happen.

  The man from her dream and the one she met today didn’t even seem like they could be the same man. They were identical in appearance, yet the man in her dreams seemed harsh, rough, and dangerous as opposed to the subtle magnificence of the man at the tavern.

  Concluding it an odd coincidence, she shoved any lingering doubts aside. She had gotten a tentative date with an incredibly attractive man.

  She didn’t have time to sit around worrying. She had a date to plan.

  Chapter Three

  She’d somehow gotten back in the woods, though not alone. He already stood beside her, and he seemed angry. His eyes accused her as if she had done something to betray him.

  “What’s wrong, Isaac?”

  He tensed and hissed at the sound of her voice. His eyes looked hard, bitter. “You went to the tavern today?”

  After a slight hesitation, she nodded. “Yes, you were there.”

  Looking up into the sky, he muttered something under his breath. She followed his gaze and noticed the stars twinkled merrily above in the purple moonlight, completely at odds with the tension swirling around them both.

  “I see.” He jerked her into his arms and pressed against her. “You’re mine, you remember that.” He threaded his hand through her curls roughly, making her scalp sting painfully. She bit back a gasp, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said.

  He released his tight grip upon her curls instantly, and his eyes darkened in remorse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered. He gently rubbed her scalp to soothe away the pain.

  “You’re much nicer in person, I’ll have you know. Maybe I need to stop having these dreams,” she muttered.

  His face turned red, and he glowered at her. “Never say that again,” he ordered.

  “Or, what? I’ll never see you again? This is all fake. As a matter of fact, I am leaving. Now.”

  Thunder boomed overhead, causing her to jump and look at the sky. Grimacing at the clouds hovering above, she started walking faster, Isaac forgotten in the face of the coming storm. Dream or no, she despised storms.

  She got caught off guard when he swept her off her feet and into his arms. She hadn’t even heard him behind her. He scowled down at her, his eyes practically shooting fire balls at her. Why would he be mad at her?

  No. Not mad—furious.

  Absolutely irate.

  “Put me down,” she growled. She shoved his shoulders with both hands.

  “No. You need to be home, but you walk too slowly.”

  She realized he prepared to run and instinctively closed her eyes to avoid the dizzying speeds she knew he would achieve. She’d seen him run before. It was mesmerizing, yet terrifying.

  When he halted, she opened her eyes and realized they were on her doorstep. She met his gaze, surprised to see that instead of his usual arrogance, he looked down at her desperately, his eyes beseeching hers.

  “May I come in?”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Isaac got thrown violently to the side. He crashed into a tree, and she tried to run toward him, but couldn’t move.

  Her legs wouldn’t move. She was…

  Frozen.

  ***

  She awoke terrified of something—or someone. But she couldn’t remember…. Oh God, her dream. Isaac had been hurt.

  No, no. It had been a dream. Not reality.

  He was okay. She felt fine, too. All remained good in her world.

  Right?

  She checked the clock, groaning in dismay when she saw it was only two o’clock in the morning. She punched her pillow and tried to relax and seek more sleep.

  Eventually she found it, in the form of dreamless slumber.

  ***

  Sabrina attempted to keep busy by writing her latest book. Even so, it seemed the past two days had been more along the lines of two weeks, since they’d passed unbearably slowly. She couldn’t stop thinking about Isaac. Even now, one word sat alone on her computer screen.

  Isaac.

  The reason she couldn’t stop thinking of him? Simple. They had a date tonight. And she couldn’t seem to think about anything else, no matter how hard she tried to focus.

  Marie had called yesterday, and she’d filled her sister in on her new love interest. Perhaps she had been too enthusiastic in her descriptions, while trying to be, at the same time, cryptic in how much information she revealed. She had been forced, as well, to repeat the whole conversation that had occurred over the phone between her and Isaac verbatim to her sister. She smiled, remembering.

  Her phone had rung, and she immediately knew it would be him, even before she had looked at the caller ID.

  “Hello, Sabrina. It’s the man you ran over yesterday. Isaac, in case there’s more than one of us.” His unique chuckle had washed over her to whisper of pleasures to be had at his hands. “I’ve called to cash in on that date we spoke of.”

  “Hmmm. Sabrina? Nope, I think you have the wrong number,” she said.

  “Mm. Nice try. I’d recognize your American accent anywhere.”

  “Betrayed by my heritage, huh?”

  “Yup,” Isaac replied. The amusement in his voice made her smile. “So, you run me over, promise me a date, and then try to get rid of me. You Americ
ans are ruthless. It’s not just a rumor, is it?”

  “No, it’s definitely true. We’re a rough, merciless lot. You’d better remember it in the future,” she replied. Giddiness came over her and she realized she felt like a teenager again. Heck, she hadn’t even been this excited when the school football captain had asked her to prom. “So, now that you found me, what are you going to demand from me for recompense?”

  “Oh, you think you’re so tough. You haven’t met a wronged Brit. You’ve got no idea what it is we’re capable of anymore.”

  “Uh oh. I’m quaking in my, uh, slippers.”

  “Slippers, huh? Are they fuzzy bunny ones?”

  She laughed out loud before glancing down at her slippers, which were, indeed, fuzzy. “That’s none of your business, sir. There are numbers you can call if you want to know what I’m wearing.”

  “Ouch. You’re cruel, you truly are. You certainly have a talent for crushing a man’s ego, don’t you?”

  “And running over them, as well. We can’t forget.”

  “Okay, you’ve put me in my place. Now, we must move onto the punishment, as you call it.” He paused, and she tapped the fingers of her right hand on the table as she waited for him to continue. “I’m thinking dinner. Also some wine, maybe conversation, and soft candlelight? Does it sound too horrible to you, lass?”

  “Oh, well, now that does sound pretty horrible. Horribly wonderful. I love it.”

  “Great. How’s Monday night for you? Are you free? Not working, I hope?”

  “Oh, no. I’m free. I usually have a flexible schedule.” She rushed to assure him while frowning at the blank page in front of her. The cursor blinking rapidly taunted her and she flinched. Maybe she sounded too eager.

  “Sounds good to me. If you give me your address, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  After providing him her address, they’d hung up and time had proceeded to stand absolutely still. She gave up trying to work on her current manuscript and closed her laptop.

  Her characters were giving her a hard time. Her hero wanted to leave her heroine, and she couldn’t allow that. But they were fighting her…and winning.

  Her writing wasn’t going nearly as smoothly as she would like.

  Kind of like her life.

  ***

  Isaac glanced in the mirror one last time when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket as he sighed and answered without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only his friends had the number to his cell, so he knew the call would not be a professional one.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, remember the problem we discussed on Saturday?” Connor asked. His voice came through urgent, yet hushed, as if he were afraid of being overheard. The clanging of pots in the background confirmed Isaac’s suspicions. Connor called him from work.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he murmured.

  “Tonight, at one in the morning.”

  He glanced at his watch, noting he needed to leave in five minutes to pick up Sabrina. “Okay, I’ll be there.” He hung up his phone and paced. He kicked the couch and cursed at having not acted fast enough. This could have been avoided if he had been more proactive. But instead, they were embroiled in a tangled mess, disturbingly familiar, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  Isaac ran his hands through his hair and finished his preparations for the evening before leaving for Sabrina’s house on time, despite the addition to his post-date plans. It wouldn’t do at all to be late since he couldn’t afford to get off on the wrong foot. It remained imperative he’d get as close to her as possible.

  ***

  At eight o’clock sharp, Isaac knocked on Sabrina’s door. It swung open a few seconds later, and he drew in a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in.

  She looked gorgeous. Too bloody gorgeous.

  “Hello, Isaac.” She answered the door smiling, dressed in a black T-shirt and tight jeans that clung to her hips like a second skin.

  God, he’d pay anything get into those jeans. Hell, to be her jeans.

  “Hello, Sabrina. You look wonderful.”

  His hand had been behind his back, but he brought it forward to hold out a bouquet of lavender roses for her. Something crossed in her eyes that looked like apprehension, but it melted away as she smiled.

  “These pale in comparison to you, but I thought you’d like them regardless.” He grinned as she took them from his hand and brought them to her nose to inhale their fragrant scent.

  “Thank you, so much. I love them, truly.”

  She headed to the kitchen, and he remained in the doorway, feeling uncertain. Should he follow her, or stay in the doorway? She paused and blinked rapidly while she tilted her head to the side and stared at him.

  “Please, come in. I’m going to put these in some water.” She made a sweeping gesture to invite him inside.

  He grinned as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He followed her into the kitchen and remarked, “This is a beautiful house you have. So quiet and charming.”

  “Thank you. Truth be told, I fell in love at first sight. It seemed to call to me. It’s lovely.”

  While Sabrina fussed over the flowers, Isaac studied his surroundings. Despite his words, a chill ran up his spine at the sight of her home. Sure, she had a security system, but it needed more protection. The kind only he could provide. He’d have to fix that immediately.

  And the location? That was a whole other story.

  Isaac watched as she flowed through the kitchen and forced himself to take a calming breath. He felt as if an eternity had passed since he had seen her, last watched her smile. It took every ounce of his control to not sweep her into his arms and carry her up the stairs. Though he wanted to do just that—God, did he want to—he knew he couldn’t. He had to act normal.

  He couldn’t afford to push her away; they were running out of time. He pulled himself out of his thoughts, only to curse silently at the sight of her pursed lips.

  Shit.

  How long had he been standing there, brooding?

  He flashed what he hoped was a bright smile. “Well, should we head out?”

  “Sure, I’m ready,” she assured him. She collected her purse, shut off the lights, and followed him outside.

  He watched as she locked her doors and set the alarm code. When she finished, he grabbed her arm and led her to his car.

  ***

  The restaurant Isaac chose radiated elegancy. After he worked some sort of magic on the manager, they were seated at a secluded table in the back, behind deep red curtains. A single candle burned in a crystal votive on the table. After they ordered their dinner, filet mignon for both of them, hers medium-well, his rare, they sipped red wine as he began a subtle interrogation.

  “So what do you do, Sabrina?”

  “I write.” She took a leisurely sip of wine.

  “Oh? Anything I would know?”

  “I write a series called Darkness. It’s a love story between two vampires. Each book progresses through time, and I’ve started the final book in the present day. The tale started in the seventeenth century.” She fiddled with her wine glass and shifted in her seat. She hated when people asked her what she wrote about. She used to stutter while trying to sum up in two sentences what her entire book was about, until she forced herself to come up with a generic reply to the question.

  It made life a heck of a lot easier.

  “I’ve heard of it. Charlotte Hannigan, right? That’s your pen name?”

  “Yes, it is,” she replied. “I like to keep my identity a secret. Keeps any overzealous fans at bay. What about you, Isaac?”

  “I’m in real estate. I acquire and sell a variety of land and structures spread throughout the world. I either sell the properties after extensive remodeling, or I rent them out. Quite boring, compared to your occupation.”

  “No, it sounds interesting,” she assured.

  “No, it really isn’t.” Isaac laughed, and she joined in. “Any siblings?”

&nb
sp; “Yes, one. Her name is Marie. She’s married, and has a daughter named Samantha. Her husband’s a lawyer, and they’re expecting a boy in February. They live in San Clemente, California.” A pang of homesickness came over her as she thought of Marie. She missed her laugh and her smile.

  “Are you from there?”

  She tore herself from her inner thoughts and responded, “Yes. And you? Siblings?”

  Isaac tensed, and his eyes hardened almost undiscernibly. Why did the mere mention of siblings cause him to close up in such a visible way? Maybe there was a rift between them?

  He hesitated before answering. “Yes, a brother. We’re not close, though.” He gave a sharp wave of his hand, as if to wave away the awkwardness of the current thread of conversation. He obviously didn’t want to talk about his estranged brother.

  “No? I’m sorry,” she said. She couldn’t imagine her life without Marie.

  “It’s okay. Do your parents also live in California?” Isaac asked.

  “No, they died. I only have Marie. Yours?”

  “With yours.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “And I yours,” he returned.

  Dinner arrived and interrupted their conversation. When she caught sight of Isaac’s entree, she got immediately taken aback at how bloody he’d ordered his steak.

  “Wow. It looks like that should still be mooing. Is it done enough for you?” she babbled. Sabrina checked her steak to see if it appeared done enough. It did.

  She returned her gaze to his and saw him regarding her with amusement.

  “Yes, this is how I like it. I know, it’s not healthy, but it is so worth the risk. Just try a bite, you’ll see.” She watched with a marked lack of enthusiasm as he cut a bite off of his steak, holding it out to her. He unleashed both dimples upon her before pleading. “Please? For me?”

  Next thing she knew, she chewed it, and she struggled to remember having agreed to try a bite.