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Authors: Diane Alberts

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BOOK: Reclaimed
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“I’m sorry, too. I should have been more careful. You’re right. But once I saw you, I relaxed. I knew I would be safe with you. Unless you have a twin running around?” She didn’t know what had made her say those words, but she instantly regretted it. Reality and fiction were getting blurred together, and she didn’t like it.

Her heart dropped when his smile melted away, to be replaced by the face of a cold, hard stranger. “Yes, actually, I do. My brother we spoke about is my twin. We no longer talk. He’s a dangerous person. Reckless. As of now, I don’t even know where he lives,” he snapped.

This man, standing before her, resembled the man in her dreams. His eyes glittered, and a hard mask came over his face as he glowered at her. She shuddered at his expression. He seemed so…unforgiving.

His words suddenly clicked in her head, and a whoosh of air left her lungs, and none returned. He had a twin, an
identical
twin. Blackness swam in front of her eyes, and she reached a hand out to the wall to steady herself.

Air. Air is important.

She took a deep breath and focused on Isaac once more. He leaned in toward her, his face no longer icy and cold. Instead, concern clouded over his eyes, and he fumbled for her.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. She didn’t think she could put two syllables together right now, let alone a whole sentence. This changed everything. This brought her dreams into day—and it blurred every line she had drawn.

“Sabrina, please. Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded in her ear.

“I’m…I’m okay,” she stammered. “I’m sorry. I think all the…excitement got to me.” She finished on a whisper. She did her best to look suitably weak and probably failed miserably. Weak damsels in distress weren’t her style.

How exactly did one feign feebleness anyway?

Maybe she should have fanned herself with feminine flourish as they did in movies so well? Eh, probably not. He already studied her far too close. As if he yearned to say something to her—demand something of her—but held back. Though his reasons for doing so were unknown, she remained grateful he did.

What a mess her life was rapidly becoming. As if her dreams weren’t odd enough, now she came to find out he indeed had a twin brother. One he hated?

What the
hell
was going on?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m okay. And, I’m sorry about your brother. That must be…uh…well…tough,” she stuttered.
Man, she sounded like a veritable font of eloquence tonight.

The cold mask returned, and she took a step away from him. “I know you’re dying to know what happened, so I’ll tell you. There was a woman. Amelia. She was everything good in the world. Beautiful, kind, charming. We were in love, and due to be married. Elijah, my brother, had been promised to another woman, but he loved my Amelia. There were some problems, and Amelia…died.” His voice faded away on the last word.

It appeared obvious to her from the tightened fists at his side and the hard set of his mouth as he pressed his lips together, the hurt plagued him still.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. How horrible. I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes, well, it happened a long time ago. Time moves on, people heal. But I have no interest in speaking to him, or even knowing where he is. The whole situation was his fault. If he hadn’t—” He bit his lip and looked away. She wondered what he had been about to say. The cold mask he seemed to put over his face when he no longer wished to speak on a subject came back, though, so she dared not ask. “Well, now that I’ve ruined the evening, maybe we should call it a night, hmm?”

“You could stay here. On the couch, I mean. If you want. I’m kinda freaked out,” she said. He stared at her, and she shifted on her feet at his scrutiny. Maybe it had been a mistake to invite him to stay. Something was going on here, something bizarre. And he was smack dab in the middle of it. And yet, she’d invited him to spend the night?

A loud bang sounded outside the window, and she jerked at the noise. She raised her hand still gripping the knife and started toward the window in determination. She’d had enough of this shit, already. Isaac stretched out to stop her and chuckled.

“Sheath the knife. It’s just the wind. It must have kicked up some debris.” He reached forward prudently to extract it from her rigid grip.

Over his shoulder, she saw a shadow move in the darkness. “I just saw someone out there. Whoever you chased away is back! I’m calling the cops.” She whirled on her heel and grabbed the knife back from him in one smooth gesture. She sprinted to the kitchen, knife in hand.

“First of all, let’s take this before someone gets hurt.” He snatched the weapon back from her once more.

“Hey,” she protested. She held her hand out with an impatient wave, and put the other on her hip. “Give me back my knife.”

“Absolutely not.” He ignored her furious intake of breath. “Second, please put down the phone. There’s no one out there anymore,” he declared.

“But, I saw—”

His finger pressed against her lips silenced her.

“Trust me, okay? You’re safe tonight. I’ll spend the night here, on the couch, if it will make you feel better. I’ll hear if someone comes. It’s almost a sixth sense of mine.” He grinned and pulled her into his arms and kissed her nose before he buried his face in her hair and inhaled.

“You smell so delicious.” He breathed into her ear.

Oh
please
, if he thought she was easily distracted, he had another think coming.

“Nice try, but I still say we should call the—”

“And you taste even better.” He groaned as he nibbled on her ear. Her head fell back against his arm, and he kissed a path across her neck and to her lips. His lips latched onto hers with a desperation that called to her very soul. Right here, right now; he needed her. And,
God
, she needed him.

He leaned her against the wall, and his hands roamed from her hair, down her back, to cup her buttocks before he pressed against her and moaned deep in his throat. She rubbed against him, and she heard his swift intake of breath before he pulled away. His eyes burned in need, and it took all her willpower not to yank him back into her arms.

“It’s been a long evening. Perhaps we should say goodnight.” He looked obviously reluctant to let go of her. His hands and lips hovered over her for another few seconds as he seemed to fight an inward battle.

Lightning flashed beside him, silhouetting half of his face in absolute perfection, and leaving the other half in shadows. The desire burning inside him appeared painfully obvious to her eyes. But, he spoke true. Damn it, she
knew
he was right. She’d never climb into bed with a guy she’d met two days ago. But…this guy felt so
perfect
.

Numerous times, she’d written about people being so caught up in passion that nothing else mattered to them—not their families, their jobs, even their lives. It had always been fiction for her, up until today. Now, she knew it existed.

And she had to be grateful to him for being such a gentleman to realize she didn’t remain sensible in his arms, to realize her weaknesses and manage not to take advantage of it. And, damn it, it made her want him even
more
.

“But what about the noises outside?” she insisted. Though he’d distracted her, she hadn’t forgotten.

He groaned and rubbed his temples. “I swear there’s nothing out there anymore. I know it sounds weird, but you just have to trust me, okay?”

She snorted. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just believe that simply because you say so?”

“Yes, it would be spectacular.” He grinned.

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” She scoffed. “Besides, if there isn’t anything out there, there’s no harm in me looking, right?”

He sighed, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to the door. She followed him until he opened the door. Skidding her feet against the floor, she called out, “Wait!”

She ran to the table, grabbed the knife, and nodded to show her readiness. She ignored the slow shaking of his head and the look he threw upward, as if praying for assistance from above, and glared at him.

They walked outside, and she stepped closer to him as she sought out any signs of danger. Nothing lurked in the bushes, or in the forest beyond the house. Nothing hovered in shadows, or rushed toward them at their entrance outside. She hesitated on the stoop, unsure of her next step.

Nothing moved; no huge beast loomed over her.

“Satisfied? Or do you want to walk around the back, too?” he questioned in her ear.

She turned to him and studied his face. No signs of anger or sarcasm. “I’m satisfied now, I guess. Still want to sleep on my couch?”

“If you still want me to,” he answered as they walked inside. She nodded and climbed the stairs. She returned carrying pillows and a blanket to find him sitting on the couch. His shoes were placed side by side in front of it, and he’d unbuttoned his shirt. His chest taunted her to touch it, to sink her fingers into the coarse hair dusted there. To feel the hard muscles flexing beneath. She wanted to trail her fingers down his abs, to caress his….

She tore her gaze from where it currently rested, at his belt. Afraid to be caught gawking at him like a pervert, she blurted out, “Thank you, Isaac. You must think I’m a complete idiot.”

“On the contrary, I find you brave, beautiful, caring—”

She laughed and rolled her eyes, and he seemed to sense her discomfort at the compliments, for he broke off and smiled ruefully. He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Good night.”

“Good night,” she whispered. She cast one last longing look in his direction and climbed the stairs to her empty bed.

Being good sucks
.

 

***

 

God, he’d been a complete fool. How had he not sensed Isaac inside? Now Isaac knew he’d tried to get in during the day, and he’d guard her house even more. He had botched his chance to get inside without fight.

Blasted fool
.

He’d just wanted to see her. He often came here when she was home, enjoying her beauty. Granted, this time he hadn’t been planning on just looking. He’d been planning to pretend to be Isaac.

Low? Hell, yes. But, damn, he heard the desperate clicking of the clock in his head, taunting him with his inadequateness.

He hadn’t even
sensed
Isaac. He couldn’t afford such a colossal mistake again.

Fleeing in surprise had been a mistake as well. He didn’t fear Isaac. Please, Isaac had never been able keep up to him, even as a child. And besides, he had every right to see Sabrina.

As much, if not more, than Isaac.

Amelia had picked
him
.

In the meadow long ago, he remembered her choice….

The sun had warmed his face as the gentle breeze kept him from baking alive over a roaring fire. It had seemed like a perfect day to spend outside with his love. And since Isaac had left on their father’s business, he had leave to do so. He didn’t have to seek her out. He knew she knelt by the stream, a bouquet of flowers clutched in her hand. It had been easy to convince her to join him, since she loved being outdoors on days like these.

Hell, so did he.

Especially when she sat by his side.

Her soft curls escaped her coiffure to blow in the breeze as she headed toward him, and he returned her bright smile. Her cap-sleeved lilac dress spoke of the latest fashions, and the bonnet she wore to protect her milky skin matched it to perfection. He’d never tire of seeing her perfect face.

Sometimes, he wished he’d never fallen in love with her. Indeed, she loved his brother. He knew it. But sometimes, just sometimes, he swore he saw something more. A brief glimpse in her eyes maybe. Or maybe he just imagined it. God knows he was desperate enough to wish it were so.

He pushed his thoughts aside and sighed. Even if she did somehow love him in return, she’d been promised to Isaac. And he, well he’d been betrothed to the rich Lady Louisa Harding. It had been arranged for years, before even Isaac and Amelia. It was his duty, damn it. He’d been named the heir, and so he had to marry whom his father wished.

Louisa appeared beautiful, with long, flowing red hair, gorgeous eyes, and a flawless body to match. She spoke of perfection in every way. Except for one small, tiny problem. She wasn’t Amelia.

Amelia sat next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on her hair and inhaled her lavender-and-sunshine scent so hungrily it gnawed at him like a monster.

“Oh, my Lord, isn’t it just gloriously wonderful out?”

“Yes, my lady, it is. You make it even more so. Were I to be in the company of any other, it would be dull and dreary, to be sure.” He teased, but the truth in his words rang in the air. They always did.

Pathetic.

She laughed and looked into his eyes. It must have been something about the way she observed him, the way her eyes sparkled. He had no idea what caused it, but he snapped. The hold on his control broke, and he moaned in pure agony. When she reached a trembling hand out and cupped his cheek, he stopped fighting it.

“Elijah…” she said so quietly he might have imagined it.

She made the slightest of movements toward him, and Elijah thought of all the reasons why he shouldn’t—couldn’t—kiss her. Nonetheless, he let out a sharp cry and yanked her into his arms. Maybe just one time, he could taste heaven. No harm, no foul.

Correct?

Urgently, he crushed his lips against hers, and her arms wrapped around him. His fingers trailed over her back to bury his hands in her hair. Her soft moan made his desire rise to a frenzy, and he positioned her on the ground, before moving his body to cover hers. Cradled against the heat of her core, he surged against her readily.

At the startling need coursing over him, he pulled back hesitantly. He met her gaze and drew in a deep breath at the love and desire burning in hers. He’d waited so long to see that exact expression cross her eyes, and now she was his. By God, once would never, ever, be enough. But he no longer gave a damn.

Crushing his lips to hers once more, he vowed to make her his.

Elijah pulled himself out of his memories and into the present. He could recall with perfect clarity how sweet her lips tasted, how soft her body had been curled into his. And, damn it, it had felt the same with Sabrina. For years he’d been tormented by his small glimpse of heaven, before hell had descended. And hell he had been in for too long to count. Deep down, he’d always hoped she would somehow return and pull him out of the darkness consuming him.

BOOK: Reclaimed
7.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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