Read Online Chosen by Desire by Kate Perry - Free Book Online Page A

was no answer, she looked at the screen to check for coverage. Full bars. The call was from a restricted number, so hanging up and calling the person back wasn’t an option. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
    There was a crackle and then a buzz. Then an electronic voice said, “You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”
    Carrie froze, the pit of her stomach twisting. “Who is this?”
    “I know you have it,” the masked voice said.
    The only thing she had that didn’t belong to her was what she’d taken from the monastery. She swallowed. How did anyone know what she’d done? And what did he mean by
it?
The journal, the Book of Water, or one of the other scrolls?
    Either way, total denial was in order. She tried to sound unshaken—completely the opposite of how she felt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Holding on to it will be… detrimental… to your health.”
    “Are you—”
    The call ended.
    “—Threatening me,” Carrie finished limply. She looked at her cell phone, as if there’d be some kind of clue as to who the caller was, but that was futile. She tried to tell herself it was a fluke—a wrong number—but she couldn’t convince herself that this was a random crank.
    Someone knew what she’d taken.
    Impossible. She shook her head. Who would know?
    Max. He’d been at the monastery. He’d seen her. Would he stoop to devious terrorizing like this? He seemed more the type to charge forth and take what he wanted. She was in his house, for God’s sake. All he had to do was corner her and use brute force to take them away from her. She wasn’t delusional enough to think she could fight him off.
    Or that she’d stop him from strip-searching her. If he wanted to. Ahem.
    The library door opened. She startled, jerking to face it.
    Just Francesca. “Thank God,” Carrie murmured under her breath.
    “Excuse me?” Francesca said in her proper way as she set her big bag at the foot of an upright chair.
    “Uh, nothing.” It struck her that this could possibly be one of the few circumstances in which she’d been happy to see the woman. Anyone was better than a stalker. Even chilly, aloof Francesca.
    It was just a crank call. Or the wrong number. She shook off her residual skittishness and smiled. “How are you, Francesca?”
    “Fine, thank you, Ms. Woods. I trust you slept well.”
    She muffled her snort. She hadn’t lied to Max. Last night, after running into him—the object of her desire, live and in glorious, hard flesh—she hadn’t been able to sleep. So she’d stayed up studying the Book of Water. It read in metaphors, but she had a feeling the metaphors were layered to hide some fascinating stuff.
    Oddly, the overlaying voice wasn’t a product of her imagination. Whenever she started reading, it started, too. And even more oddly, it said things not written in the scroll.
    She tried to rationalize it by jet lag or as some extended dreamlike delusion, but she couldn’t convince herself that she was insane. Except she had to be insane—she was hearing things.
    Add the phone call to the mix, and she felt jittery. Like she’d had six straight shots of espresso—intravenously.
    She’d meant to photocopy all the documents and send them back. Then no one would have reason to threaten her. But she couldn’t return them—not just yet. Not before knowing the Book of Water’s secrets.
    “Ms. Woods?”
    Carrie looked up to find Francesca staring at her impatiently. Oh—right. How did she sleep. Not wanting to seem like a princess (or paranoid, for that matter), she decided to avoid the question. “My room is really comfortable, thanks.”
    Francesca nodded, seemingly satisfied by that nonanswer. She moved to the sideboard. “Can I get you coffee or tea?”
    “I’ll help myself, thank you,” Carrie said, standing up. As she poured her tea, she watched Francesca add a couple cubes of raw sugar to her cup and stir, each rotation careful and precise, before returning to