“I just can’t interfere in your meeting, though. It wouldn’t feel right.”
“Okay, I’ve got a solution, if you’re sure I can’t convince you to join me. Why don’t you give me your number, and maybe you can make your recklessness up to me at dinner? We’d be able to call it even, I’d say.”
“Hmmm…maybe.” She glanced up at him through her eyelashes and hoped her cheeks weren’t blushing from the excited racing of her heart. “Do you have paper to write it down on, or a phone to put it in?”
He smiled and pulled his cell phone out while responding, “How about I give you my number now, and you can call me on your phone—presuming you have one—and we’ll have one another’s phone numbers right away?”
She agreed and called the number he gave her. His ringer went off, and she couldn’t help but notice he had chosen an old-fashioned phone ringing noise for his ringtone. No fancy ringtones for this hunk of a man.
“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.