Page 68 of Restless Hawke
I lean against the front door jamb, tracking her up the walkway in a pale-green dress that offsets her eyes and another pair of patent leather Louboutins that make her toned legs seem a mile long.
A slow smile spreads across her lips as she approaches and steps up to me, stopping just out of my reach. “Hi.”
“Hi…” I let my gaze sweep over her now that she’s closer, from her luscious, wavy dark locks floating down over her shoulders to her tasteful cleavage and peachy skin that makes my mouth water to explore it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
She raises a brow, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?”
I snort and glance back at the carnival that is Nana’s house on a Sunday evening. “I had hoped you had some self-preservation instinct.”
Those pink lips of hers twitch into a smirk. “I think we already established that I don’t.”
Neither do I.
If I did, I wouldn’t have flirted with her at the bar in Atlantic City. I wouldn’t have confronted her I that elevator in Monaco and brought her up to my room. And I sure as hell never would have laid a hand on her in Macau, let alone fucked her the way I did yesterday.
So, at least we’re in the same boat.
I can’t help but grin at her.
This lightness in my chest shouldn’t exist simply by seeing this woman again. My hands shouldn’t itch to touch her and hold her again. Fucking her was meant to get this out of my system, to avenge what she had done to me somehow so we could move past the tension and I could get back to winning without interruption.
Instead, I find myself craving more of her.
I tug her up against me and give her a long, slow kiss, savoring the feel of her body aligned with mine again. The warmth of her in my arms. The taste of her on my tongue again.
“Will you two knock it off and get inside?”
Pope’s annoyance cuts through the fog Allegra has created in my brain, and I glance back at him. He raises a brow from where he stands a few feet behind me, holding Benjamin in his arms. A smirk pulls at his lips, and he inclines his head toward Allegra. “Welcome to the shitshow.”
Hell.
I pull her inside and close the door behind us. “He’s not wrong. I meant to warn you before you accepted my uncle’s invitation, but we didn’t get a chance to speak alone before you left the hotel.”
And I would have told her if she had called like she promised. But all I got was a text from an unknown number asking for the time and address for dinner—and I couldn’t very well explain any of this to her in a message. I don’t even think I could explain a Hawke family dinner verbally to anyone in any other way than Pope just described it.
“Itiskind of a shitshow…”
She laughs softly, examining the small foyer of Nana’s house. “How come?”
Leaning in, I rest my hand on her lower back. “Because the entire family is expected to be here on Sundays.”
“What do you mean by ‘the entire family?’”
“I meaneveryone.” I lock gazes with hers, trying to convey an apology for what will hit us in a few seconds. “All thirty of us, if you include Nana.”
“Shit.” She chuckles lightly, but it’s full of nervous tension. “That’s…a lot of Hawkes.”
“It sure is. And believe me, evenweget overwhelmed. So, whenever you’re ready to bail, just say the word, and I’ll try to come up with some excuse for leaving early that won’t get me into too much trouble.”
She smiles at me, a bit of that unease melting away from her body. “I’ll be okay. I know how to handle myself.”
“I have no doubt that you do.”
This woman has already proven her ability to stand her ground and hold her own at a table with some of the best players in the world—multiple times.
She bestedme.
She can certainly handle herself with the Hawkes.
