Page 103 of Savage Cravings

Her father’s work, no doubt.

So—not so fucking innocent to the world’s cruelty. I pulled away, afraid she might sense my anger the longer I touched her.

Not for the first time, I wished we had kept Daniel Hayes alive for a little longer.

Carefully, when I was no longer on the verge of exploding, I reached my arms for her, holding her gently to me.

The breakfast bagcrinkled in my hand as I made my way over to her door.

It was eight o’clock in the morning.

A more acceptable time to be showing up at her door. After holding her in my arms for a couple of hours, I left to check in with Maverick. Killian was probably on his way back as well, and I couldn’t hold us up much longer.

As much as I wanted to go back, this time with her here in New Orleans—a time in which she didn’t hate me– didn’t feel like enough. She might be infatuated with me, but Mila was cautious on a good day. She hadn’t fallen in love with me yet.

It was too short of a time. And as much as I wished I could give her more time to get used to the idea of being mine—beingours—that just wasn’t possible. Perhaps this would make her hate us less.

Or more, a vicious voice whispered in my head.

Ignoring that, I knocked on her door and waited.

She answered it with messy hair and sleepy eyes, still in her sleep clothes.

My eyes made a slow perusal up and down her body, fucking loving this look, and hating that she had answered the door like this.

The way her eyes rounded in surprise told me she hadn’t been expecting me. I doubted she had looked through the peephole to see who was on the other side.

“Silas!”

I didn’t get the chance to reprimand her for taking such a risk. She rushed into me, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

Fuck.

My heart felt calm and out of control at the same time.

Was there ever a time someone was genuinely happy to see me?

I wrapped my arms around her small frame and pulled her tighter to me, leaning down and burying my face in the crook of her neck. I took in a huge inhale.

Please don’t fucking hate me.

I would do whatever it took to ensure she loved me more than she hated me.

“Fuck, I missed you,” I muttered into her skin.

She tensed slightly before leaning back and looking at me with those devastating eyes of hers. Her lips pursed, drawing my gaze to them, and I resisted the urge to claim her mouth. To claim everything.

“You missed me?” she asked softly, as if it was such a surprise.

“I missed you,” I repeated, so there was no mistaking the words.

She glanced away for a beat before bringing her eyes back to me once more, smiling a little.

I vowed right then: I would maim, kill, and cheat anyone and everyone just to keep her smiling at me.

“Come inside,” she said shyly.

I nodded and followed her in, checking out our surroundings once more before I shut the door behind us.

---