Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“You’re not hungry?” he asked in that deep rumble that did wicked things to my body.
I clenched my thighs under the table, trying to calm myself. I had my hands in my lap, thankful the table blocked his view from how I dug my nails against my thighs.
Why did he make me feel so damn unsteady?
“I am, thank you.” I glanced at my plate then for the first time since sitting down.
There was a piece of steak—which looked juicy and thick and cooked to perfection. Mashed potatoes with gravy, a buttered roll, and green beans that were all perfectly arranged on the porcelain plate.
A side salad was beside the plate, and a small olive oil and vinegar carafe for the dressing was next to it. There was a glass of water to my left, and a glass of red wine to my right. There were so many pieces of silverware that I had no idea which fork I was supposed to use.
“Eat and then we can discuss business matters.”
For being such a larger than life mountain man, Fin spoke eloquently, as if he’d been running boardrooms all his life. I supposed he had, and so I listened to him, picked up one of the forks, and started eating the food that was so good I actually had to hold in a moan of pleasure.
The steak was tender and juicy, the mashed potatoes buttery with a hint of garlic. The green beans had the perfect amount of crisp to them when I took a bite.
There was no rush as we ate, and I was surprised by the small talk he initiated, and even more shocked that it was comfortable and not at all forced. I found myself really enjoying this time with him.
He cleared our plates once we were finished and left for only a moment before returning, a plate in each of his hands. He set the dessert down in front of me, the cake looking decadent and moist.
“I hope you enjoy lemon raspberry cake. I get it frequently from Tosco’s, the little bakery in town. It’s called something fancy, but nothing I can ever pronounce accurately.”
I smiled and it was genuine.
That first bite had me actually moaning, the cake sweet but not overboard. It was rich but not too much so. It was thick and soft, spongy, and the raspberry sauce tasted so fresh it was like I’d picked the raspberries myself just this morning.
I was almost halfway finished with the cake when I felt Fin watching me. I snapped my attention to him, saw his eyes locked on mine, and swallowed the cake I had in my mouth almost roughly.
His expression... it was primal.
He watched me with his head lowered and his eyes seeming to glow with something that I couldn’t quite place, but also something that had my entire body coming alive all over again. It was a look that said one thing.
I like what I see.
I don’t know how I knew that, but it was so loud it was as if he roared it to me, demanding I admit that I was his.
I’m losing my damn mind, projecting what I feel and want onto this man.
Once we were finished with dessert, he took those plates as well and then refilled my wine glass. I was already feeling a little lightheaded, unused to drinking alcohol despite having worked at a pub back in the city. This was my second full glass, and I couldn’t help but feel more at ease, relaxed, drinking the liquid courage.
So I took another hearty drink and then set the glass back down, keeping my fingers around the stem, letting the pads move along the smooth crystal.
“I’m an easy man to work with,” he finally said.
I snapped my gaze in his direction, not realizing I’d been focused on my hand as my fingers played along the bottom of the glass. “What?” I prompted softly.
“I’m gruff, like things a certain way, but aside from that, I won’t be in your way.”
How wrong was it that I wanted him to be in my way?
I couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t quite mean that last part. It was the pitch of his voice, how low and deep it was, the way he flicked his eyes in my direction as if daring me to listen to the underlying message.
“I read through the contract fully, if that’s what you’re worried about?” I grabbed the napkin and wiped my mouth. “I assure you I won’t let you down, Mr. Haw—”
“Fin. Call me Fin.” He said that so… demandingly. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly on the chair. “You’re welcome to make up your own times, and you’re not required to do all those duties.”
“But the contract—”
“It’s standard. A formality. I make the rules.”
A shiver of… something so dark and demanding, so potent, raced through me.