AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Darn,” I mutter, fisting my hips.
“What’s wrong?” Savage asks behind me.
My skin prickles, and I spin on the spot. You’re the one in control, remember? You’re the independent, not clumsy, woman who straddled him last night. “I forgot to bring a sweater or a hoodie or something. I didn’t check the weather before I left.”
Savage comes over to me in the half-light, his gaze fixed on my face.
The tension between us is exquisite, and my heart beats like crazy.
He stares. I stare.
I glance down at his lips and then back up at his eyes. He’s so perfect, it should be criminal. Dark eyes, strong cheekbones, a nose that’s definitely been broken before, his beard streaked through with gray, and the slight lines around his eyes. He looks like he’s lived a million lives, and all of them are etched onto him like the tattoos that run up his neck.
I swallow.
“Hannah?”
“Huh?” I meet his gaze, and my plans to be the cool, independent woman who’s never embarrassed evaporate. I blush, because he’s watching me check him out. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“I made you coffee.” He lifts the mug.
“How? The power?”
“French press. Kettle on the gas stove.”
“Thank you.” I take the mug from him and sip from it. “Ooh, yum. Just enough sugar and cream.”
He turns and walks over to the closet, opens it and enters. He comes out a second later with a sweater, then brings it over to me. “I don’t think my pants will fit you.”
I take the sweater from him, dying inside. “Thanks. This is great.”
“Great.”
We stand together in the quiet, me looking up at him. He stares over my head at the window. “I secured the perimeter while you were asleep. The power is still out, but the house is safe.”
“There was a concern that the house wasn’t safe?”
“I’ve made breakfast.” And then he turns and walks out of the room. I stare at his butt in those punishing gray sweatpants.
He leaves the door open, but his footsteps retreat, and I take another sip of my coffee absently. He made me coffee. And breakfast. And he gave me his?—
Get over yourself! It doesn’t mean anything. Savage might be attracted to me, but he still doesn’t want me.
I set down the coffee on the bedside table and then pull on his sweater. It’s warm, and it smells of that smoky cedar cologne. I lift it to my nose and inhale. So unbelievably sexy. The sweater falls down past my thighs, oversized, just like Savage, and I squirm at the thought of him holding me.I put in my contacts instead of wearing my glasses.
Finally, I grab my coffee and head through to the living room.
Savage is bent over the fireplace, stoking it. He straightens, then directs me to the sofa. The coffee table, a polished wooden chest, carries a single yellow rose in a vase, two glasses of water, and two sets of silverware.
“This is?—”
“I made eggs Benedict.”
“You’re kidding! That’s one of my favorite breakfasts. But I don’t like it with the ham, I like it with…”
He sets the plates down on the coffee table.
“…bacon,” I finish.
