Page 85 of Savage Guardian

Her breath catching, she stared at Hawk. He didn’t just say what she thought he said. Right?

“Love?” she breathed.

Hawk’s expression warmed, the depth of emotion written there in his eyes as profound and infinite as space and time.

He gathered her in his arms, tucking his face in her neck, and she went, her body boneless, her heart racing.

“Love.A chuisle mo chroi,” he murmured into her ear, his breath brushing along her sensitive, heated skin. She shuddered against him.

Beat of my heart. That’s what he’d called her. It was a Gaelic endearment that meant…she owned him. That his heart was hers.

Impossible.

“You can’t mean that,” she said, her voice broken and heavy with disbelief. God, she wanted to believe him, but it was too good to be true.

He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I do. I do mean it,mo chroi. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, he stepped back, gripped her hand in his, threaded their fingers together, then dragged her from the room.

Fae couldn’t do anything but follow behind him.

His heart in his throat, Hawk pulled Fae behind him as he left the relative safety of Fang’s bedroom and into the clubhouse common room.

It was full to the brim with his brother, the club bitches, and a few hangers-on. He’d been so caught up in getting to Fae, he hadn’t even thought about the fact that it was a party night.

Shit.

Oh well, the more the fucking merrier.

In the middle of the room, Hawk stopped, dropped Fae’s hand, and turned to her.

“Stay right here,” he commanded.

“Hawk, what—”

He pressed a quick kiss to her pink lips, smiling when she gasped.

“Stay right here,” he repeated. “Trust me, please.”

She stared up at him, her whisky eyes bright with hope but ringed with uncertainty. Finally, she nodded.

With that, Hawk strode toward the jukebox, which was the hub of the club sound system.

He pulled the plug.

Immediately, the room was filled with angry shouts and curses.

Hawk raised his arms and glared at the crowd.

“Give me a fucking minute!” he bellowed.

When the mutters and curses continued, Grimm shouted, “Shut the hell up, fuckers! Hawk’s got somethin’ to say!”

Nodding in thanks to the wickedly grinning asshole, Hawk walked back to Fae, who was still standing where he left her, but her eyes were wide, and there was a look of a deer in the headlights on her face.

He smiled down at her, took her hands in his, and prayed.

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