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“Hey! Clarissa? Are you there? Did you find him? I hope you didn’t faint on the poor man. Sis! Damn it, Clarissa, answer me!”
Chapter Three
Finally, I found her. She’s the one.
The mantra played over and over in Rick’s mind as he maneuvered the van around another tight curve in the mountain road that was slick with snow and ice on the way back to Rocky’s Creek.
He had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he was panic-stricken. For a man with his level of confidence, the feeling was intimidating. What if the immediate attraction that had triggered his uncouth reaction to kiss her had scared her off? His body warmed at the memory of folding his arms around her petite body. She was half his size, for heaven’s sake. He had felt like a veritable giant about to crush her fragile frame with his strength.
It was a feeling he had never fully experienced—the profound need to protect her from harm, to keep her safe against the big bad world, and most of all, to love her from the depth of his soul.
For years, he had attempted to fall in love. The furthest any relationship with the myriad of women in his life had gone was sexual attraction and a level of care. Definitely not enough to break the curse should he have done the stupid thing of marrying any of them. Moving from one century to the next had been a lonely journey. Companionship held him together, but it didn’t soothe the yearning deep inside for the one.
Since he came from the medieval times where men were dominant and took what they wanted, it had been natural for him to ease into a sexually dominant lifestyle… and over the past decade, he had a preference of being a Daddy to his little girl.
Clarissa Stone was the Babygirl love match he had been searching for over the centuries.
Exactly, and you went ahead and treated her like you would’ve done in 1485—overpowering and unconcerned about her feelings, as if only you mattered. Imagine. Kissing the woman, who doesn’t know you from Adam, like a lover in full view of all those people.
Shit! I didn’t think. My instincts took over. I just needed to taste her, feel her… make sure she knew she belonged to me.
Good job, King Ricardo III. Newsflash, asshole. In this century, women hate being treated like objects.
I didn’t treat her like an object. I kissed her like she was my love, my Babygirl.
Pfft, keep telling yourself that. Why do you think she hasn’t said a word since she got in the van? Better prepare yourself for an eternity of being the gingerbread man!
Unfortunately, Rick’s conscious mind had hit the nail on the head. Watching her in the reflection of the windscreen, he was all too aware that the woman with long silky tresses, the color of rich cinnamon, sat staring ahead with her pink glossy lips pressed into a thin line.
She had a classic beauty, much like Audrey Hepburn, who over all the centuries, was the celebrity he had admired the most.
With her lustrous hair in loose curls over her shoulders, she exuded a sultriness he found difficult to resist. He was enamored by the marble-like appearance of her skin, satiny smooth over her heart-shaped face and cute little nose. Her full eyebrows arched over the almond shape of her eyes. The dark brown thermal coat she wore added a darkening amber sheen to her hazel eyes.
“I believe you’re a fashion photographer.”
A cursory nod.
Shit, she’s more pissed off than I thought.
“Was it a hobby that turned into a career?”
An evil side eye was answer enough of what she thought of that assumption.
“Ah, so you studied photography. Care to share where?”
“Brooks Institute of Photography in Santa Barbara, California, before they moved their operations to Ventura. They closed their doors in 2016, which is a pity. It was a wonderful art school.”
“Ah! She talks,” he murmured in a satisfying, deep growl.
“I talk,” she snapped. “Just not to boorish, chauvinistic, and self-righteous assholes who grope me at first sight.”
“Hmm, first time I’ve ever been called that.” He smiled grimly. “At least for a couple of centuries,” he said in an aside to himself.
“What was that?” she asked and narrowed her eyes at him.
“In my defense, I’m not a chauvinist or self-righteous. I suppose, at times, I can be boorish. An asshole? That’s debatable. Most people around here like me.”
“Gmphf, good for you.”
