Cravings by Liz Everly Page A

Maeve, get some answers from her publisher. Now that he had some leads, he felt better. He slid into the backseat of the car. He took out his smart phone and wrote the name of the guy and the name of the place Maeve was last seen. As he gazed out the window, all he could think was Maeve, where are you?
    Streets full of people grayed as the sky brewed a storm.
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    The banging of thunder woke Sasha up. It was nearly noon. She found a note left by Sanj.

    Be back as soon as I can. Here is some money for you.
    Please take it and buy yourself some new clothes. Consider it a gift. Maeve will have my head if I don’t treat you properly.

    Maeve was a formidable woman.
    She glanced at the bed next to hers, where Sanj had slept all night. On the one hand, she yearned to have him in her own bed, but on the other hand, Sanj was a man of integrity. What would she do with a man like that? No. Better to stay focused on finding Maeve and starting her new life. She didn’t need to complicate things with a man. Not even Sanj. As if she had the choice—given that once he found out about her past, he didn’t seem interested.
    She didn’t need that shit.
    It had happened with the man in Morocco, too. He’d helped her to a certain extent, but when he found out about her, things changed. But by then, she’d stolen a passport and several thousand dollars, and had plans to hop on the next cargo freight to Italy. Which is exactly what she did. Fuck Imar. And fuck Sanj, too, if he couldn’t get over her past. She did what she had to do.
    She downed some coffee and a Danish left on the table for her. Chocolate filled. The foamy brown cream delighted her and took her mind directly to Paul, who often used chocolate cream and syrup as a way to entice her. She grinned and licked her fingers. So gauche. But she didn’t give a damn. Not anymore.
    The afternoon spread before her in its possibilities. Yes, she needed some new clothes, and she knew exactly what she wanted and where to go. Soon the storm passed and Sasha was on the streets.
    After purchasing several skirts, blouses, and pairs of shoes, she decided to go to the open-air food market. Tomorrow, she’d be much more comfortable in the new clothes she bought—they were more appropriate for the climate and culture. She wanted to blend in as much as she could.
    She luxuriated in the smells of the restaurants she passed. The spices, the meat—she loved it. When she turned the corner, her eyes were met with stalls of colorful fruit and vegetables. Rows and rows of them—along with bread, blankets, and baubles. A guitar player sat along the wall. She tossed a coin to him, the notes from his guitar lifting her mood.
    As she purchased some cheese and bread, an odd sensation crept into her. Someone was watching her.
    Or was she just being paranoid?
    She suddenly longed for the safety of the hotel room. It wasn’t far. But she decided to get a cab. As the cabbie helped her with her bags, she caught a strange but familiar movement out of the corner of her eye. She dared not look up.
    Instead she slipped into the cab and peeked just in time to see a face. The face that haunted her. He turned quickly. Was it really Snake? Or just someone who resembled him?
    Her heart pounded in her chest. Was it really him? How did he find her here?
    Sasha swallowed hard as they pulled up to the hotel. She glanced all around her. It didn’t look like she’d been followed.
    She exited the cab, paid the cabbie, and nearly flew to the room, thinking she might not ever leave it again.
    She dropped her bags on the floor and fell to her knees, sobbing, unraveling. Would this man never stop? Would he never stop haunting her?
    â€œSasha?”
    Her gaze rose. Sanj came to her.
    â€œWhat happened?” His arms went around her as he sat on the floor next to her, cradling her as she sobbed into his chest.
    â€œShhhh. You are shaking. What has frightened you like