The Hunter(28)

“Thank you for not leaving,” he said carefully. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had left.”



What? There are plenty of other interior designers in NYC! I imagine that you would have just called up another one to replace me. Or did he mean something else?



“What do you mean?” My voice was barely a whisper. I was almost too afraid to ask in case his answer was not what I was longing to hear.



His hold on me tightened fractionally. “Oh, Issy. To answer your earlier question - yes, I feel it too. Much as I have tried to ignore it, to pretend that I couldn’t feel anything, I can’t deny it any longer. The question now is, what do we do about it?”



Oh my god! He feels it too. Oh my god! What do we do now? How the hell do I know? Half an hour ago, I wanted nothing more than to seduce you and to feel you inside me. Now, I have no idea what comes next. I just know that I don’t want to play games anymore.



His body stiffened suddenly and his hand stilled on my back. What now?



“I never play games,” he said firmly.



What the …? Oh no! Please tell me that I didn’t voice my thoughts aloud. Not again! What is it about this man that makes my brain to mouth filter malfunction?



I groaned, mortified. “What exactly did I just say?



He hesitated for a second and then began “Half an hour ago, I …”



“Okay, stop!” I said, holding up my hands, feeling heat crawl up my cheeks. “I can’t believe that I spoke that out loud.”



He laughed; a quiet chuckle that echoed in his chest. Then suddenly, he threw his head back and gave a huge throaty laugh and squeezed me tightly. Despite my embarrassment, I found myself giggling. Suddenly, I needed to see his face while he was laughing. I raised my head and looked into his face, searching for his eyes. They were cobalt blue and they twinkled with mirth until he registered my gaze and he stopped laughing abruptly and his expression became wary. The beautiful clear blue irises clouded over and I felt disappointment stab in my chest. I had done something wrong. But what? Doesn’t he like to be looked at? How could that be with a face like that? He must get stared at everywhere he goes. Ah, but he doesn’t socialize, does he? Is that because he doesn’t like people looking at him? That is bizarre … Shit, please tell me that I am only thinking this … oh, thank god.



I noticed how intently he was studying my face as I finished the conversation in my head. I lowered my gaze from his eyes automatically as it seemed to have an unsettling effect on him but I could feel his eyes on my face still.



“Well,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. “You don’t have any ideas about what we do next and I am so out of my depth that I feel that I might go under entirely.”



“Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take a seat then,” I risked a peek at him through my lashes. “And … I could really do with a drink.”



He chuckled again. “Well, that is what we do next then. Although hearing you say that makes me realize how much I don‘t want to let you go.”



A warm fuzzy feeling washed over me and I reflexively snuggled into his chest. He reciprocated by kissing the top of my head. He sighed and placed his hands on my shoulders and I was hit by the realization that I desperately didn’t want him to let me go either. I looked at him questioningly and he slowly ran his hands down my arms to my hands. He took each of my hands in his and then stepped back. I wash almost swamped by a feeling of loss, made bearable only because he had my hands in his. He tugged gently and then walked slowly backwards, leading me towards the sofa.



When we reached the sofa and he let go of my left hand and then gracefully lowered himself on to the seat, pulling me down next to him without letting go of my other hand. With his right hand, he reached out and grasped the open bottle of wine and topped our glasses up. Handing mine to me and then collecting his own, he held it up and we clinked glasses. After taking a sip, he smiled and squeezed my hand. “Well, that is both of your next steps accomplished,” he grinned. “Miss Prince, your wish is my command.”



I shook my head and laughed. “That’s dangerous talk, Mr Hunter. Hmm, what should I wish for next?” I squeezed his hand to let him know that I was joking, just in case he was going to freak out again.



He suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh … lunch,” he said. “I forgot to ask you whether you had eaten when you arrived.”



“No, but I am really not hungry. ” Well, not for food anyway! Stop it! Your big mouth could open at any time and these thoughts could really freak him out. “You?”