Craved (Book #10 in the Vampire Journals) - Morgan Rice - E-Book

Craved (Book #10 in the Vampire Journals) E-Book

Morgan Rice

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Beschreibung

"A book to rival TWILIGHT and VAMPIRE DIARIES, and one that will have you wanting to keep reading until the very last page! If you are into adventure, love and vampires this book is the one for you!"
--Vampirebooksite.com (Turned)CRAVED is Book #10 in the #1 Bestselling series THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, which begins with Book #1, TURNED! In CRAVED, 16 year old Scarlet Paine struggles to find out exactly what she's becoming. Her erratic behavior has alienated her new boyfriend, Blake, and she struggles to make amends, and to make him understand. But the problem is, she can barely understand herself what's happening to her. At the same time, the new boy in school, the mysterious Sage, comes into her life. Their paths keep intertwining, and although she tries to avoid it, he directly pursues her, despite the objections of her best friend, Maria, who has her own eyes set on Sage. Scarlet finds herself swept away by Sage, who takes her into his world, past the gates of his family's historic river mansion. As their relationship deepens, she begins to learn more about his mysterious past, his family, and the secrets he must hold. They spend the most romantic time she can imagine, on a secluded island in the Hudson, and she is convinced she has found the true love of her life. But then she is devastated to learn Sage's biggest secret of all: he is not human, either, and he has only a few weeks left to live. Tragically, just at the moment when destiny has brought her greatest love, it also seems fated to tear them apart. As Scarlet returns to the high school parties leading up to the big dance, she ends up in a huge falling-out with her friends, who excommunicate her from their group. At the same time, Vivian rounds up the popular girls to make her life hell, leading to an unavoidable confrontation. Scarlet's forced to sneak out, making matters worse with her parents, and soon finds pressure building from all sides. The only light in her life is Sage. But he is still holding back some of his secrets, and Blake resurfaces, determined to pursue her. Caitlin, meanwhile, is determined to find a way to reverse Scarlet's vampirism. What she finds leads her on a journey to find the antidote, deep into the darkest corners of rare libraries and bookstores—and to an ancient discovery she can hardly imagine. But it may be too late. Scarlet is changing rapidly, barely able to control what she's becoming. She wants to be with Sage—but fate seems set on tearing them apart. As the book culminates in an action-packed and shocking twist, Scarlet will be left with a monumental choice—one that will change the world forever. How much is she willing to risk for love?

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Seitenzahl: 264

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

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craved

(book #10 in the Vampire Journals)

acclaim for THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS

“Rice does a great job of pulling you into the story from the beginning, utilizing a great descriptive quality that transcends the mere painting of the setting….Nicely written and an extremely fast read.”

--Black Lagoon Reviews (regarding Turned)

“An ideal story for young readers. Morgan Rice did a good job spinning an interesting twist…Refreshing and unique. The series focuses around one girl…one extraordinary girl!...Easy to read but extremely fast-paced... Rated PG.”

--The Romance Reviews (regarding Turned)

“Grabbed my attention from the beginning and did not let go….This story is an amazing adventure that is fast paced and action packed from the very beginning. There is not a dull moment to be found.”

--Paranormal Romance Guild (regarding Turned)

“Jam packed with action, romance, adventure, and suspense. Get your hands on this one and fall in love all over again.”

--vampirebooksite.com (regarding Turned)

“A great plot, and this especially was the kind of book you will have trouble putting down at night. The ending was a cliffhanger that was so spectacular that you will immediately want to buy the next book, just to see what happens.”

--The Dallas Examiner (regarding Loved)

“A book to rival TWILIGHT and VAMPIRE DIARIES, and one that will have you wanting to keep reading until the very last page! If you are into adventure, love and vampires this book is the one for you!”

--Vampirebooksite.com (regarding Turned)

“Morgan Rice proves herself again to be an extremely talented storyteller….This would appeal to a wide range of audiences, including younger fans of the vampire/fantasy genre. It ended with an unexpected cliffhanger that leaves you shocked.”

--The Romance Reviews (regarding Loved)

About Morgan Rice

Morgan Rice is the #1 bestselling author of THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, a young adult series comprising eleven books (and counting); the #1 bestselling series THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic thriller comprising two books (and counting); and the #1 bestselling epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING, comprising thirteen books (and counting).

Morgan’s books are available in audio and print editions, and translations of the books are available in German, French, Italian, Spanish, Portugese, Japanese, Chinese, Swedish, Dutch, Turkish, Hungarian, Czech and Slovak (with more languages forthcoming).

Morgan loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.morganricebooks.com to join the email list, receive a free book, receive free giveaways, download the free app, get the latest exclusive news, connect on Facebook and Twitter, and stay in touch!

Books by Morgan Rice

THE SORCERER’S RINGA QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1)A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)

A FATE OF DRAGONS (Book #3)

A CRY OF HONOR (Book #4)

A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)

A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)

A SEA OF SHIELDS (Book #10)A REIGN OF STEEL (Book #11)A LAND OF FIRE (Book #12)A RULE OF QUEENS (Book #13)

THE SURVIVAL TRILOGYARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)ARENA TWO (Book #2)

THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS

TURNED (Book #1)

LOVED (Book #2)BETRAYED (Book #3)

DESTINED (Book #4)

DESIRED (Book #5)BETROTHED (Book #6)

VOWED (Book #7)

FOUND (Book #8)

RESURRECTED (Book #9)CRAVED (Book #10)FATED (Book #11)

Listen to THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS series in audio book format!

Now available on: 

Amazon

Audible

Copyright © 2012 by Morgan Rice

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

“O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.

Being in night, all this is but a dream,

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.”

—William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

CHAPTER ONE

Caitlin Paine sped down the West Side Highway, determined to reach the Cloisters before they closed. Her mind spun, as she reflected on all the troubles that were besieging Scarlet—troubles that no teenager should have. Scarlet was changing, Caitlin was sure of it. She was no mere human anymore, and each day, she was getting worse. Caitlin sensed that she was becoming what she, Caitlin, had once been herself: a vampire.

Of course, Caitlin had no direct memory of being a vampire herself; but from what she’d read in that journal she’d discovered in the attic—her vampire journal—she felt that it was all real. If the journal was true, and she sensed that it was, then at one time she had been one herself, back in time; somehow, she had ended up back here, in the present, with a normal life, a normal family, and no memory of it.

The only thing was, her family was far from normal. Her life was far from normal. Her daughter, somehow, was becoming what she had once been herself.

Caitlin wished, for the millionth time, that she had never found that journal. She felt that finding it was like opening Pandora’s box, was what had sparked this parade of nightmares. She wished desperately that she could just make everything go back to normal.

She had to have answers. She had to know for sure that this was all authentic. If she couldn’t force things back to normal, then she had to at least find out more about what was happening to Scarlet. And find out if there was any way to fix it.

As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?

Any serious scholar, of course, would say that it was. And a part of her wanted to dismiss it, too. But another part of her was clinging to it, clinging to this last possible hope to save Scarlet. For the millionth time, she wondered how she could ever find the other half of that page. It came from one of the most rare books in existence, and even if she could somehow manage to track down another existing copy, what were the chances of the other half of the page being inside? After all, the page had been torn out, likely as a way of hiding it. But from who? From what? The mystery only deepened in her mind.

She tried to focus instead on her own journal, her own handwriting from centuries ago, on her description of the vampire coven beneath the Cloisters. She had written of a secret chamber leading to the coven, down below, on a lower level. She had to know if it was real. If there was some sign, any sign at all, then it would validate all of this in her mind, would allow her to confidently go forth. But if there was no sign here, then it discredited her entire journal.

Caitlin got off the highway, wound through Fort Tryon Park, and drove into the main entrance of the Cloisters. She drove up a narrow, winding ramp, and finally parked before the massive structure.

As she got out, she stopped and looked up; for some odd reason, the place felt strikingly familiar to her, as if it had been an important place in her life. She could not understand why, because as far as she knew, she had only visited it once or twice. Unless, of course, everything in her vampire journal was true. Was what she was feeling real? Or was it all just wishful thinking?

She hurried through the arched front door, into the stone medieval structure, up a long ramp, and down a long, narrow corridor. She finally got to the main entrance, paid a fee, and headed down a corridor. She passed a small courtyard on her right with rows of stone arches, inside of which sat a medieval garden. The fall foliage shimmered. It was a weekday afternoon, and the place was nearly empty, and she felt as if she had all to herself.

That is, until she heard music. At first, it was just a voice—then several voices. Singing. Ancient singing from a small chorus. She could not fathom if it was live or a recording as she stood there, transfixed, listening to the heavenly voices echo throughout the small castle. She felt transported, as if she’d arrived in another place and time.

She knew she had a mission to accomplish, but she had to see where the music was coming from. She turned down another corridor and followed the sound. She entered through a small, arched medieval door, and found herself in a chapel, with soaring ceilings and stained-glass. Standing there, to her surprise, was a chorus of six singers, older men and women, dressed in all white robes. They faced an empty room, looking down at sheet music as they sang out.

Gregorian chants. Caitlin saw the sign, the huge poster advertising the afternoon concert. She realized she had stumbled into a live performance. Yet, she was the only one in the room. Apparently, no one else knew about it.

Caitlin closed her eyes as she listened to the music. It was so beautiful, so haunting, she found it hard to leave. She opened her eyes and looked around at the medieval walls and furniture, and it made her feel even more out of touch with reality. Where was she?

The song finally ended, and she turned and hurried from the room, trying to regain her sense of reality.

She hurried back down the corridor and came to a stone staircase. She descended, winding down to the lower levels of the cloisters, and as she did, her heart beat faster. This place felt so eerily familiar, as if she’d spent time here before. She could not understand it.

She hurried across the lower level, remembering its description from an entry in her journals. She remembered the mention of the doorway, the secret portal, that led downstairs to a subterranean level, to Caleb’s coven.

She got more excited as she saw, on her left, a roped off area. Behind the rope was a perfectly preserved, medieval staircase. It led up, but only into the ceiling. It didn’t go anywhere. It was just an artifact, on display. The same one described in her journal.

But the staircase also had a small, wooden gate hiding the lower half, and behind it, Caitlin could not tell if the steps led down, to another level. It was roped off, and she couldn’t get anywhere near it.

She had to know. If it led down, then everything she wrote about was true, not just a fantasy.

She looked both ways and spotted a security guard on the far side of the room, nodding off.

She knew that by crossing the rope in a museum she could get in big trouble—maybe even get arrested. But she had to know. She had to do this quick.

Caitlin suddenly stepped over the velvet rope, towards the staircase.

Immediately, an alarm went off, shrieking, piercing through the air.

“HEY LADY!” the guard screamed.

He started to run towards her. The alarm was piercing, and her heart pounded in her chest.

But it was too late now. She couldn’t turn back. She had to know. It went against everything in her nature to step over that rope, to violate a museum display, to do anything against the rules—especially where history and artifacts were concerned. But she had no choice. Scarlet’s life was at stake.

Caitlin reached the staircase and grabbed the medieval wooden handle. She yanked on it.

The gate opened, and as it did, she saw where the staircase led.

Nowhere. It ended at the floor. It was a fake staircase. Just a display.

Her heart sank, devastated. There was no subterranean chamber. No trapdoor. Nothing. As the display indicated, it was just a staircase. In and of itself. An artifact. An old relic. It was all a lie. All of it.

Caitlin suddenly felt rough arms grab her from behind and drag her out, up over the velvet rope, onto the other side.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” another guard yelled, as he came over and helped drag her away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to think quick. “I…um…I lost my earing. It fell out, and it bounced on the floor. I thought it went over there. I was just looking for it.”

“This is a museum, lady!” he barked, red-faced. “You can’t just cross lines like that. And you can’t touch things!”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her throat dry. She prayed they didn’t arrest her. They certainly could, she knew.

The two guards looked at each other, as if debating.

Finally, one said, “Get out of here!”

He shoved her, and Caitlin, relieved, took off, hurrying down the corridor. She spotted an open door, heading outside, to a lower terrace, and she ran through it.

She found herself outside, on the lower terrace, in the cool October air, her heart still pounding. She was so happy to be out of there. Yet at the same time, she was distraught. There was nothing here. Was her entire journal made up? Was none of this real? Was she imagining everything?

But then how would that explain Aiden’s reaction?

Caitlin crossed the cobblestone terrace, passing another medieval garden, this one filled with small fruit trees. She kept walking until she came to a marble railing. She leaned against it and looked out; in the distance she could see the Hudson River, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

She suddenly turned, expecting for some reason to see Caleb standing there, beside her. For some reason, she felt she’d been here before, stood here on this terrace with Caleb. It didn’t make any sense. Was she losing her mind?

Now, she was not so sure.

CHAPTER TWO

Scarlet burst into her room, hysterically crying, and slammed the door behind her. She’d run all the way home, from the river, and had not stopped crying since. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. That moment kept flashing in her mind when she saw the pulse in Blake’s neck, when she felt that feeling, that urge, of wanting to bite him. Of wanting to feed.

What was happening to her? Was she some kind of freak? Why had she felt that way? And why then—of all moments? Just as they were having their first kiss?

Now that she was far away from the scene, it was harder for Scarlet to summon exactly how her body felt at the time—and with each passing moment, it was growing more distant. Her body felt normal now. Had it just been a fleeting moment? Was it just some weird, one-time thing that had overcome her, that would never come back again?

She desperately wanted to believe that. But another part of her, a deeper part, felt that wasn’t the case. The feeling had been so strong, it had been something she would never forget. If she had succumbed to it, and stayed there one more second, she felt certain Blake would be dead right now.

Scarlet couldn’t help but think back to the other day. Coming home sick. Running out of the house. Forgetting what had happened, where she had been. Waking up in the hospital. Her mom being so worried, so freaked out….

Now, it all came to the forefront of her mind. Her mom had wanted her to see more doctors, to get more tests. And then, to see a priest. Did her mom suspect something? Was that what she was hinting at? Did she think that she was becoming a vampire?

Scarlet’s heart was pounding as she sat there, in her room, curled up in her favorite chair. Ruth stuck her head in her lap, and Scarlet leaned down and stroked her. But there were tears in her eyes as she did. She felt shell-shocked, in a daze. She was terrified at the idea that she was sick, that she had some kind of disease—or maybe, something worse. Deep down she thought it was ridiculous, of course, where her mind was going. But she dared to wonder. Her wanting to bite his neck. The feeling she’d had in her two incisor teeth. Her craving to feed. Was it possible?

Was she a vampire?

Did vampires really exist?

She reached over, opened her laptop, and googled it. She had to know.

She pulled up the Wikipedia entry for “vampire” and began to read:

“The notion of vampirism has existed for millennia; cultures such as the Mesopotamians, Hebrews, Ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demons and spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. However, despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early 18th-century southeastern Europe, when verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are revenants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but they can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire.”

Scarlet quickly shut her laptop and put it away. It was all too much for her to take.

She shook her head, trying to physically put it out of her mind. Something was definitely wrong with her. But was it that? It terrified her.

Making all of this even worse were her feelings for Blake, and her thinking of what had just happened between them. She couldn’t believe she had run away from him like that, especially at that moment. They had been having such an amazing time, a dream date. And now this. Finally, just when their relationship was starting to take off. It was so unfair.

She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking right now. He must be thinking she’s some kind of freak, some kind of absolute psycho, for her to just jump up like that, in the middle of a kiss, and take off, sprinting into the woods. He must think she was totally out of her mind. She was sure he’d never want to see her again. He’d probably go back to Vivian.

She desperately wanted to explain herself. But how could she possibly? What could she possibly say? That she had a sudden urge to bite his neck? To feed on him? To drink his blood? That she had to run away to protect him?

Sure, that would really set his mind at ease, she thought.

She wanted to make things right. She wanted to see him again. But she had no idea how to explain. Not only that, but she was also afraid to be near him; she didn’t trust herself now. What if the urge overcame her again? And what if, next time, she actually hurt him?

She burst into tears, thinking about it. Was she doomed to never be around boys again?

No. She had to try. She had to at least try to make things right. She had to try to explain herself, in some way. If for no other reason so that he didn’t hate her. Even if he never wanted to see her again, she couldn’t just leave things like this. And deep down, a part of her still dared to hope that maybe this was just a one-time thing, a freak episode, and that maybe they could get over this and still be together. After all, if they could get over this, they could get over anything.

Scarlet was beginning to feel a little better. She wiped away her tears, grabbed a tissue, blew her nose, and took out her cell. She pulled up his number and began to text him.

Then she stopped. What should she say?

I’m so sorry for what happened today.

She deleted that. It was too generic.

I don’t know what came over me today.

She deleted that, too. It didn’t sound quite right. She needed the perfect balance, the perfect mixture of apologizing and yet being hopeful that things had not changed forever. She also needed to emphasize what a great time she had up until that point.

She closed her eyes and sighed, thinking hard. Come on, come on, she willed herself.

She began to type.

I had such an amazing time with you today. I’m so sorry it ended the way it did. There was a reason I had to leave like that, but I can’t explain it to you. I know it’s hard to understand, but I hope you can. I just want you to know that I had an awesome time, and I’m sorry. And I hope we can see each other again.

Scarlet stared at her draft for a long while, then finally reached out, and hit send.

She watched it go through.

Her text wasn’t perfect. She already thought of how she could have re-written it in a million ways. And a part of her already regretted sending it. Maybe it sounded too desperate. Maybe it was too cryptic.

Whatever. It was off. At least now he knew that she still liked him, and that she wanted to see him again.

She knew that Blake had his cell on him every second of the day. She knew he’d get it right away. And that he always answered his texts within seconds.

Scarlet trembled as she waited to hear.

She placed her cell on her lap and closed her eyes, breathing slowly, waiting for a vibration. Willing it to vibrate.

Come on, she thought. Text me back.

She sat there, waiting, for what felt like forever. She kept refreshing her phone. After a few minutes, she even powered it off then back on, in case somehow it was jammed. She then watched the clock tick. Two minutes passed.

Then five.

Then ten.

She slammed her phone down on the table, and could feel tears welling up inside again. He clearly wasn’t texting her back. How could she blame him? She probably wouldn’t text herself back either.

So that was it. It was over.

Then, suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She reached over and snatched it off the table.

But her heart fell to see that it wasn’t Blake. It was Maria.

I can’t believe u cut class like that. So…how was ur date with Blake?

Scarlet sighed. She had no idea how to respond.

Don’t worry. I’m not cutting again. It’s over between us.

Really? OMG. Why? Vivian?

No. Not her. It just…

Scarlet stopped, wondering what to say.

…didn’t work out.

Tell me.

Scarlet sighed. She really wanted to change the subject.

Nothing to tell. What’s up with u?

OMG, I can’t stop obsessing about new boy. Sage. Heard fresh details today.

Scarlet was exhausted and really didn’t want to continue this texting conversation. She didn’t want to hear more gossip and innuendo about the new kid—or about anyone. She just wanted to disappear from the world.

But Maria was her best friend, so she had to humor her:

Like what?

He has a sister, and a cousin. They don’t go to our school though. He’s a senior. He transferred from a private school. I hear he’s rich. Like super-rich.

Scarlet didn’t care. She just wanted to end this.

Luckily, before she could type, she got another text—this one from Jasmin.

OMG, what’s happening to your Facebook wall?

Scarlet read it in surprise.

What do u mean?

Before she could respond, she grabbed her laptop, opened it, and pulled up her wall.

Her heart plummeted. Vivian had posted on it:

Nice try stealing Blake. It didn’t work. After he dumped you, he came back to us. I knew he’d dump you. Just surprised it happened so soon.

Scarlet breathed sharply, completely taken aback. She saw various friends of hers comment on the post, and saw that it had spread to many people’s walls. She also saw that Vivian had posted it to Twitter, and that it had been re-tweeted by all of Vivian’s friends.

Scarlet was aghast. She had never felt more embarrassed. She deleted the comment from her wall, blocked Vivian, then went to her settings and changed them so that only her friends could post. But it was barely a drop in the bucket—clearly, the damage had already been done. Now the whole school thought that she was stealing other people’s boyfriends. And that she was dumped.

Her face turned red. She was so mad, she wanted to reach out and strangle Vivian. She didn’t know what to do.

She slammed down her laptop, and burst out of her room. She tore down the steps, not knowing where to go or what to do. All she knew was that she needed air.

“Come on Ruth,” she said.

She grabbed her leash and Ruth jumped excitedly, following her out the door and down the porch steps.

Scarlet ran down the steps, looking at her feet, and it wasn’t until she was out on the sidewalk that she looked up, and saw him, standing there.

She stopped cold.

He stood there, staring back at her, as if he was waiting.

It was the new boy.

Sage.

CHAPTER THREE

Scarlet stood there, at the end of her walkway, staring. She could hardly believe it. There, standing on the sidewalk, just a few feet away, staring back with his intense grey eyes, was the new boy. Sage.

What was he doing here, in front of her house? How long had he been standing here? Had he been watching her house? Had he been about to head up her walkway? Or had he just been passing by?

But passing by where? She lived on a quiet suburban street, and hardly anyone ever walked around here. Then again, she was only two blocks to town, and conceivably, he could be heading somewhere. But that was unlikely.

The thought of him standing there, watching her house, or about to walk up, freaked her out. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny that she was excited to see him. Excited wasn’t the right word. It was more like…transfixed. She could not take her eyes off of him. His smooth skin, his strong jaw, his proud cheekbones and nose, his gray eyes, long eyelashes—she had never met anyone remotely like him. So noble, so proud. He seemed so out of place here, like he’d dropped down out of a sixteenth-century palace.

She also couldn’t help noticing that she felt butterflies in her stomach when she looked at him. And it was a feeling she did not want to have. After all, Maria, her best friend, had made it clear that she was obsessed with him. How wrong would it be for Scarlet to take him away? Maria would never forgive her. And she would never forgive herself. Besides, she had Blake. Or did she?

She thought again of Vivian’s post, about Blake dumping her. Had Blake really told her that? Or had Vivian made it up? Either way, she felt pretty sure that Blake was gone from her life for good.

“Um…hi,” she said, not knowing what else to say. After all, they had never even been introduced.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said back.

She loved his voice. It was soft, gentle, yet powerful the same time. He was soft-spoken, yet there were something authoritative in his tone. She could listen to that voice forever.

“I’m Sage,” he said, extending a hand.

“I know,” she said, as she reached out and took it.

The touch of his skin was electrifying. It sent a thrill up her harm, as he held her freezing hand in his warm one.

“Small town,” she added, by way of explanation, but then felt embarrassed. That was stupid of her; she shouldn’t have admitted she knew his name. It made her seem desperate.

But wait, she thought. Why was she even thinking this way? After all, he was Maria’s man. Wasn’t he?

“Your hand is so cold,” he said, as he looked down at her palm.

Scarlet withdrew it, self-conscious.

“Sorry,” she said, shrugging.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” he said.

“Oh, sorry, I just figured you knew it,” she said, then added, “not that I’m famous or popular anything. It’s just…well, small town, you know?”

She was already stumbling, making things worse with each sentence. She always did this when she got nervous in front of guys.

“Anyway, my name is Scarlet. Scarlet Paine.”

He smiled.

“Scarlet,” he echoed.

She loved the sound of her name in his voice.

“The color of many things. Wine, or blood, or roses. Of course, I prefer the latter,” he added with a smile.

Scarlet smiled back. Who talked like this? she wondered. It was as if he were from another time, another place. She was dying to know more about him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, then figured that sounded too harsh. “Not to be rude or anything. But I mean like, what are you doing in front of my house?”

He momentarily looked flustered.

“Yes,” he said. “Peculiar timing, isn’t it? I was just in town, and thought I’d do a bit of exploring. I’m new here, and thought I would see where these roads lead. I had no idea they led to you.”

Scarlet felt better. At least he wasn’t stalking her house or anything.

“Well, there’s not much to see. This town is only a few blocks in each direction. A few more blocks that way, and it’s done.”

He smiled. “Yes. I was beginning to see that myself.”

Suddenly, Ruth ran up to him and jumped up and licked his hand.

“Don’t jump,” Scarlet chided.

“It’s okay,” he said.

He knelt down, and petted Ruth gently, stroking her mane with his palm, scratching behind her ears. Ruth leaned in and licked him on the cheek. She started whining and Scarlet could tell that she really liked him. She was shocked. Ruth was always so protective of her, and she’d never seen her take to a stranger like this.

“What a beautiful animal. Aren’t you, Ruth?” he said.

Ruth leaned up and licked him again, and he kissed her on the nose.

Scarlet was stunned.

“How did you know her name was Ruth?”

He suddenly stood, caught off guard.