Reclaimed

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?”