Scarlet Masquerade Read Free Page A

What she didn’t want was a confrontation with the woman who haunted her dreams, only to find out Clarissa didn’t remember her. Worse, what if she didn’t love her? Was she crazy to wish for that love still? Hadn’t time shown her that nothing stayed the same? The past was just that, the past, and no one could live there, especially not her.
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    Clarissa looked down at the street before she walked into the mud porch. She was feeling the tingling sensation again and knew something, or someone was close by. Her charged-up body smoldered with the raw energy. Stepping on to the bench, she sat down to take her shoes off. She looked down the drive hoping not to catch a glimpse of someone. It wasn’t that she couldn’t take care of herself, she just didn’t want to have to expose herself in order to defend herself.
    Squinting hard to see if someone was down there, she scanned the vast property. She couldn’t see anyone. Darkness was her friend and she knew she would be able to spot anything that moved. Waiting a moment longer and still not seeing anything, she flipped the light switch to the outside on and moved into the house. Instead of feeling welcome inside the warm expanse, she felt off-kilter and disoriented. It was as if she was transported back. Back to another time, another place, another country. She reached for an open bottle of merlot on the counter as she thought about Paris, and the last time she saw Alexandra. Why that memory would come to her now confused her. She tried never to think about Alexandra, ever. She knew she was out there somewhere, stalking her next victim. Grabbing a glass, she headed for her favorite chair and flung herself into it. She rested her head against the high back and closed her eyes.
    Before she could open them again, a set of piercing blue eyes invaded her memories, Alexandra’s eyes. She tingled as she thought about how Alexandra would look at her when they first met. So they had resorted to clandestine meetings. Her parents would never have approved of Alexandra hanging around their home. Alexandra had money, influence and time, things that her father disapproved of in spades. No, Alexandra was someone that she could only have met with in private. That hadn’t seemed to bother Alexandra when Clarissa had suggested it. Then one night, she knew why. Alexandra was different, very different.
    They had met at a social function at a Paris estate. Clarissa had attended on the arm of a rather pompous ass of a man. Monsieur De Marcus was a rising star in the medical field, and he loved beautiful women just as much as he loved himself, almost to distraction. He had asked Clarissa’s father if she could accompany him to the evening’s festivities. Seeing an opportunity, Clarissa’s father agreed, hoping for a match of course. That night Clarissa was introduced to the men and women of high society. Then she spied a beautiful, raven-haired woman sitting in an alcove watching her. There was something about the way she watched Clarissa that made her anxious. Unsettled, she worked her way out of the woman’s sight and back on to the arm of Monsieur De Marcus. After the long line of introductions were made, excluding the woman’s, Clarissa and Monsieur De Marcus made their way to dinner only to find that the seating arrangements put Clarissa right next to the dark, sultry beauty.
    A long determined hand reached out as Clarissa sat down. “Pardon me. I don’t believe we have met yet? My name is Alexandra Locke, and you are?” The last word hung on a perfect French accent.
    Clarissa stood quickly as though she were meeting the King of France. “My apologies, Mademoiselle Locke, my name is Clarissa Dumonte. It’s my pleasure of course to meet you.”
    “I don’t know why it would be your pleasure, my dear, but it is kind of you to say.” Chuckling, Alexandra guided Clarissa back into her seat. “Please sit down. People might think that I am someone special and