Page 25 of His Dark Hunger

“Yes, sir.” She pushed her sex toward his hand, welcoming his touch. “I’m just so tense.”

“About what?”

Hadn’t he spent the last few hours ironing out all the details so she wouldn’t need to worry? Jonah was safely shipped to Worthington’s, where his as well as three of his friends’ meals would be on the house. Brock Hall was clean and tidy—thanks in large part to her own splendid efforts—and they had both gone to see Chef to make sure the meal was in order. Both dressed and waiting for his friends, everything was ready.

There wasnothingto worry about.

“I don’t know.” She sounded agonized. “Everything. What if they don’t like me? Or what if I make a complete fool of myself, sir, and tip dessert over one of them?”

He repressed his amusement at her catastrophized version of events. “On no planet will they not like you.”

He couldn’t believe she was concerned. Evidently, the woman hadn’tseenherself lately. Or maybe life with her floundering late husband had just meant she didn’t know herself. Maybe she wasn’t to everyone’s taste—a little older than some of the women his pals dallied with—but she was eminently smarter, sexier, and more capable than any he’d had the chance to meet. Furthermore, he recognized how she was increasingly becoming captivated by him.

Amy Kendal.

He smiled, his hand stroking her outer thigh as he recalled the years between visiting her then-husband and that sweet moment.

Amy had been on his radar for a long time—since he’d laid down the law to her pathetic husband—and he’d never forgotten about her. He’d served the eviction notice beforehe’d heard about Graham’s passing, but when the news had reached him, he couldn’t say he was surprised. The guy had seemed close to his breaking point that day in the hallway of Aspen Way; he had been at least twenty pounds overweight and a prime candidate for a heart attack or a stroke.

Graham’s demise, though, had started the avalanche of Amy’s bad luck that had seen her ultimately tumble into his arms at Worthington’s. Kyle hadn’t actively been involved in the numerous loans she’d been forced to take out after his death. He hadn’t urged either of her sons into lives of crime or insisted she take a second job, but he could see the way in which Kendal’s eviction from Aspen Way had been the irrefutable trigger for the downward spiral.

Kyle, for his part, had merely sat on the periphery, watching and waiting. He’d asked Stevens to keep his eyes peeled and discover where she’d gone after Aspen Way, then again when she’d been forced to give up that address and move to the nasty studio apartment. He’d witnessed her every move, biding his time, and only when she seemed almost brow beaten by her debt had he swooped in to make his move.

He still vividly recalled the morning she’d dropped into the uninspiring grocery store for bread. The way her face had reddened as she’d argued with the self-checkout and the glimmer of relief in her eyes when he’d rescued her. Maybe he should have had better things to do than follow her around like a love-struck puppy, but the problem with the kind of wealth he’d accumulated over the years was that it meant he didn’t reallyhaveto doanything.

He had the yachts, the properties, and the super cars, and he’d played with them all, but after a while, the products money bought him had become devoid of tangible meaning,leaving him feeling empty. That void had fueled his curiosity about Amy, insisting he knew where she was living and working long after it shouldn’t have mattered. It demanded he ‘keep an eye on her’ when she was really of no concern, and it had ensured he found himself following her into the sunny parking lot that day, watching her park in her rundown car, then ambling after her once she’d slipped inside the grocery store.

Holding Amy against his body, the memories of that first encounter flashed into his mind.

Watching her from the other side of the aisle, his heart raced. It looked as though she was trying to pay for the item she’d chosen, but despite her best efforts, the self-service check-out was not cooperating.

This is it!The thought filled his head, accelerating his pulse as he strode toward her.Swoop in there and save her.

“Mrs. Kendal?”

She looked up at him, her light blue eyes widening as she searched his face, and, in that instant, he knew it had been worth it—the years he’d waited, the reconnaissance… all of it.

“Oh!” She stumbled backward with shock, and acting on reflex, he reached out to steady her.

“I’m sorry.” Christ, she was even more adorable in real life than he’d seen in the photos. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you didn’t.” Her stunned expression said that was a lie, but he didn’t counter her, taking the moment to enjoy her creamy complexion before he crouched to retrieve the money she’d dropped.

“Here.” He foisted it at her, vaguely aware of how she’d need it. Kyle didn’t know her finances as intimately as he hoped to know her, but he was cognizant things were tough, and losing Graham had only amplified that urgency.

“Thanks.” She took note. “Do I know you?”

“Please, let me introduce myself.” He’d imagined that moment so many times in his head, the reality was like a movie. “I’m William Kyle. I knew your late husband, Graham.”

“Graham.” Emotions flickered in her beautiful eyes, and he instantly regretted mentioning her late husband.

“Yes, Graham and I worked together a few times.” He disliked the duplicity, but telling her he’d once been her landlord would have likely invited too many questions. Better to keep things vague. For now. “I heard what happened to him. Please accept my condolences.”

“Thanks.” She swallowed. “I don’t remember him talking about you.”

“It had been a while since we worked together.” That was true, at least. “I’m sorry to have missed the funeral.”

“It was a small affair.”

---