Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“I had no idea it would be so intense!” I moan as he catches me, holds me close. “I–I thought it would never happen…that it was just a fantasy…”
“I wanted to give you something special,” Hawk replies, his voice so soothing. “You deserve it, beautiful.”
My chest is heaving as I look up at him. I’d forgotten just how handsome he is. He must have women falling at his feet wherever he goes, but he didn’t choose any of them. He chose me.
“Breathe,” he tells me. “Listen to my voice. In…and out. In…and out…”
I follow his directions and slowly regain control over myself. Even without using physical force, this man knows just how to handle me.
“Good girl. Are you okay?”
Emotions rise up within me once more, and tears flow from my eyes as I look up at him and smile. I’m sure I look like a total mess, but I don’t care. And I can tell from his expression that he doesn’t either.
“Okay?” I ask. “I’m beyond ‘okay,’ Hawk. I’m…incredible!”
“So that was good?” he asks.
I nod, taking another deep breath, basking in his manly musk and the warmth of his statuesque body.
“It was perfect,” I mutter, feeling freer than I’ve ever felt in my life. I no longer have to doubt myself. I no longer have to question my fantasies. I can fully accept myself now. And it’s all thanks to this wonderful man.
“Thank you…”
8
HAWK
From behind the stove, I look over at Penelope, who is on the couch, wrapped up in my warmest wool blanket. She’s hugging her knees and watching me as I make pesto while the pasta boils and the chicken slowly simmers in the cast iron skillet.
She looks so content and happy, and that makes my heart warm.
“My grandma taught me this recipe,” I tell her as I pluck basil leaves from its stem. “I always loved it as a kid.”
“You really don’t have to go through all this, Hawk.”
“I want to.” I smile. “Besides, you’re worn out. You need some energy. Gotta get some food in you.”
Penelope smiles adorably at me. “I do love a man who can cook.”
“Well, don’t get used to it, gorgeous. You’ll be the one doing all the cooking once we’re married with two children.”
Her jaw drops, but she quickly covers her mouth with a hand and lets out a cute little giggle. I toss her a wink to let her know I’m kidding–sort of.
It’s nearly impossible to believe she’s here now. Having watched her from afar for so long, the woman of my dreams is now sitting in my living room.
I finally did it.
I made Penelope mine.
“Is…is that a proposal?” she asks slyly. I shake my head and grin.
“Oh, no. A proposal should be much more romantic. I’m just letting you know what your future holds.”
She’s blushing now, which I really love. It just makes her that much more enchanting.
She gets up from the couch and walks over to the counter where I’m prepping our meal.
Even her bare feet on the hardwood floor turn me on. It’s not a fetish or anything; it’s just that everything about her is sexy. There isn’t an inch on her body I wouldn’t kiss or put my tongue.
She silently watches me put the basil, pine nuts, garlic, and Parmesan cheese into the food processor. I watch her eyes as I drizzle in the olive oil. She’s actually interested in what I’m doing.
“So, Hawk,” she says slowly. “You own this cabin?”
“I sure do.”
“And when Anna and I were lost, I remember you saying something about us having wandered off the land reserved for hiking?”
“That’s right.” I nod.
“So…do you own this land as well?”
“Yep. I actually own hundreds of thousands of acres.” I smile, pressing the on-switch to blend the ingredients. I stop after a few seconds and look at her. “Why do you ask? Never met a large landowner before?”
I’m entranced by Penelope’s doe-eyed innocence as she looks back at me and shakes her head. Her eyes are like wells of alluring beauty, tugging at my heartstrings.
“I don’t think so.”
I smile back as I pull a noodle from the pot and hold it out to her. “Try this. Tell me if they’re ready or not.”
Penelope leans forward and takes a bite, tests it with her teeth and tongue, then nods happily.
“Al dente. Just how I like it!”
I smile and drain the noodles into the colander, then begin slicing the chicken into small pieces.
“So tell me more about being a landowner,” she asks, looking slyly at me. “Sounds like an old term for being part of the British aristocracy.”
I laugh. “You know, I’d never thought about it like that before. That would be interesting–having Duke or Lord before my name.”
I add the noodles, chopped chicken, and pesto back into the pan to warm it and toss it all until everything has a nice green tint to it.