Reclaimed

“I see,” she murmured. Patti bustled into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later carrying Sabrina’s meal. For once, Sabrina hadn’t noticed how alone she had been, or become antsy. She was too lost in thoughts of her dream man. She finished her meal, paid, and left a generous tip. Upon exiting, she spotted a liquor store nearby and darted in for Chablis. After the interesting turn of events—events that made her wonder if she were going insane—Sabrina needed a drink.

Or five.

Halfway back to her car, the hair rose on the back of her neck. She halted mid-step. Somebody watched her. She spun on a heel and gasped when she saw the man from her dreams in the alleyway a few feet behind her. He stood cloaked in shadow, but his face couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. His image had been haunting her relentlessly all day.

She took a step toward him, but no sooner had she taken a step toward him, he disappeared. Where the hell could he have gone?

She took off at a run, needing to see if she could follow him. Men didn’t just walk out of your dreams every day, did they?

No, they don’t, you idiot. And now you are running into an alleyway looking for a man who, by all logic and reason, shouldn’t exist.

She skidded to a halt in the entrance to the alleyway, one hand on her keychain…which no longer had any mace.

Crap.

She’d had to turn it in when she’d moved the England, and had yet to find a suitable replacement. No matter, for he wasn’t there—nothing but trash and the overwhelming stench of urine awaited her. She cursed and kicked a crate that rested in disarray against the wall. Something dark and ugly scurried out of it at the resounding noise she’d made. She glowered after it, and cynically shook her head.

How could she think that a man could haunt her dreams and come to her in the light of day? Not possible. She couldn’t have predicted this man would enter her life. No way for her to have known him when he walked into the room.

And yet he had. And she did.

There just had to be a logical explanation behind this. Maybe she had seen him somewhere yesterday, but not noticed him, and he’d appeared in her dream.

Not noticed him?

Yeah, right. And maybe the homeless guy a few feet away was really Prince William, too.

Maybe, just maybe, she should have stayed in California.

Chapter Two

She glanced behind her and forced her protesting legs to move faster. His footsteps grew closer each passing second. Hair whipped her in the eyes, forcing them to water in protest, which made it even harder to see where she ran in the purple moonlight, but she pressed herself to speed up even more. He’d gotten even closer. His steady breathing sounded in her ears above her own desperate gulps of air, somehow mocking her for her weakness, her vulnerability.

Her aching chest and weak legs forced her to stumble to the ground at a stream, bringing her frenzied flight to a halt. Her eyes focused on a blur of motion as a shape leapt overhead and easily landed on the other side of the wide stream rushing over the rocks. He emerged from the concealing shadows of the trees, and the moonlight illuminated the perfection of his face.

She wasn’t shocked to see him. She’d known all along what, or who, she ran from. The hard glint of a predator in his eyes, however, did freak her out. He was clearly the hunter…and she the prey. And as quickly as he had leapt across the stream, his eyes softened, smoothing the harsh lines of the huntsman into that of a different chase—a seducer.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that though he no longer chased her, she remained the prey. A shiver ran up her spine at the thought, and she watched him warily as her heart raced.

He flashed a grin at her, and she groaned as dimples appeared on both cheeks. As if the man were not hot enough, God had given him dimples.

Come on, man.

“Hello, Amelia,” he murmured. The name rolled off his tongue like silk. “I’ve been waiting here for you to return.”

“My name isn’t Amelia.” The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she shuddered. “It’s Sabrina.”

“Sabrina? That’s a pretty name, too. It suits you.” He stalked toward her, and she shot to her feet and retreated. “But to me, you will always be my Amelia. Don’t run,” he said soothingly, his arm held out, palm up, to her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for you a long time. I’ll not hurt you. I promise to keep you safe.”

Though her every instinct shouted at her to run screaming through the forest, she stood rooted to the ground watching him as he nimbly jumped over the water and landed in front of her. She watched his eyes move as he studied her face before enfolding her in his arms tenderly. For a brief moment she felt…cherished.

Until he threaded his hands through her hair and crushed her lips beneath his. Breathing quickly became forgotten as his lips plundered hers, and she clutched his shoulders, desperate to hold onto reality. Her ability to think fled, as all her senses and thoughts were consumed by the man holding her.

But was he a man?

Men didn’t come to you in dreams before you ever met them in real life.

The thought sobered her as being doused with a bucket of cold water would have, and she jerked away from his kiss. His hands tightened painfully in her hair, and she whimpered in protest.