Page 4 of Hawke

It wasn’t that the man wasn’t gorgeous, he just didn’t strike me as the sadistic bastard type, not that I’d know what one should look like. After realizing the tormentor from my dreams was none other than Mr. Hawkins, a myriad of emotions consumed me.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I thought back to the night before. I’d retrieved the manila folder and had begun looking at the stack of papers inside.

On the first page, there’d been an illustration of a Venetian mask. My interest was immediately piqued, so I flipped to the second page. Just as I’d thought when I had looked at the drawing, Nathaniel wanted to throw a grand opening for his club, with a masquerade theme.

I’d heard about those type of parties, and had always thought there was something erotic about two people, possibly strangers, dancing around each other and their desires while hiding their true identities behind a mask. I had never been to one of those before unless one counted the night at that club in Washington, D.C.

I had chalked it up to the nightmare I’d had the night before. I’d continued to look through the next few pages, rolling my eyes at the fact he’d bullet-pointed everything he wanted, and there were a lot of items listed.

Most were small things like certain décor colors he thought would enhance the overall theme. It was only when I’d gotten to the contract portion and realized it was like the one I’d been forced to sign at The Box. At that point, I’d gone back through the conversation with him in his office. I’d suspected something about him sounded familiar but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Now I can, you fucking bastard,” I ground out through gritted teeth.

Grabbing the contract, I exited my car and walked straight toward Syn. When I entered the building, the place seemed to be in the same state of disarray as the day before, and I peeked into the bar area, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

“Miss, you can’t be in here,” came a stern, male voice from behind me.

I turned and smiled sweetly at the construction worker. “I’m here to see Mr. Hawkins.”

“He’s in his office. I’ll go get—” he started to say before I waved the stack of papers in front of him.

“No need. I’ll deliver these myself.” I then walked down the hallway.

The heels of my favorite boots clicked loudly on the concrete, but I didn’t care. I remembered exactly where his office was located, and when I reached the door, I didn’t even bother knocking.

He was on the telephone, only looking up when I let myself in. He said something to the caller, but I couldn’t hear what. It wasn’t as if it mattered anyway. When he set the receiver down, irritation filled those emerald depths.

“I told you to fax the paperwork to me, Miss Maxwell,” he said in an annoyed voice that echoed his current expression.

I shut the door, then walked straight over to him. I no sooner set the papers down when my self-restraint finally got the best of me. Reaching over, I slapped him, only realizing what I had done when he rose to his feet, and I felt the stinging in my palm.

“It was you,” I stated aloud.

Nathaniel rubbed the bottom of his jaw while staring right at me. “What was me?”

My temper escalated rapidly with every passing second. It was possible he hadn’t recognized me, but I was sure that’d change once I elaborated further.

“That night in Washington, D.C. You left me in that room before having me thrown out.”

Oh God. Tears welled up in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. In fact, I wanted to hit him again. My hands balled up into tiny fists, and I readied myself for the next strike.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking—” he began to say before he stopped mid-sentence.

I watched the shock register on his face, then felt the searing heat from his gaze as it slid from my face down my body. He stepped toward me, and I instinctively took two steps backward. Because I’d closed the door, there was nowhere to escape from him as he advanced closer. When my back hit the hard oak behind me, the first tear fell from my eye.

What’s he going to do to me now?

That question evoked several different scenarios, which all turned out to be wrong.

Nathaniel brushed the pad of his thumb over my cheek, collecting the moisture. “It can’t be you.”

I was taken aback by the incredulous tone of his voice, and nodded before responding. “Well, it is.”

I squared my shoulders, forcing myself to look at him through watery eyes. His earlier anger began to fade as fascination replaced it. Mine, however, only continued to grow, especially when he brought his thumb to his mouth. I felt the pull of something deep in my core. It was as if the last year hadn’t happened at all, at least where my body was concerned. Thankfully, my brain was in control.

Mustering up as much willpower as I could, I brought my hands to his chest, then pushed forward, but trying to move this man was like trying to move a brick wall. “I’m leaving,” I said, attempting to put some space between us.

It only made him move closer, and now my breasts were smashed against his iron-hard chest. For a fleeting moment, I almost wanted to see how spectacular his physique truly was.

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