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Chapter Three
Betty
Anastasia Richardson bites her lip hard, trying to focus on typing the important letter to the Russian consulate. But her mind is totally on the two powerful men in the next room. Well, one of the men in particular. Hawk Majors has come back from exile looking more rugged and intense than she even imagined possible, and he’s talking to the big boss. Are they talking about her? Do they know she’s the daughter of the last remaining secret descendant of the Romanov royal family, and that she’s on the run? Will Hawk Majors be assigned to protect her? Anastasia squares her shoulders. She doesn’t need his protection! But then he steps out of the office, pins her with a steely glare and says—
“Betty. You’re coming with me.”
I blink and swivel around in my chair, my brain scrambling to catch up with the sight of Hawk Majors staring at me with his jaw set, his icy blue eyes hard as diamonds. For a second I almost believe I’m a Russian heiress and he’s my protector, come to take me away, but then I shake my head, hard.
“What?” I manage.
“It’s okay, Betty,” Mr. Grimm says, following Hawk out of the office. “I don’t need you any longer today, and I’ve put Hawk on a special assignment that I think you’ll be able to help him with. He’s got a lot of computer files to go over, so we’ve set him up with that at his cabin. You can help him there.”
“His…cabin.” I’ve never been to Hawk’s pretty cabin set in the hills outside the city. There was never any reason for me to be there, when he was here before. He didn’t have any kids to babysit, and I was so young. But I know that Mr. Grimm has kept the place maintained for all the time Hawk’s been gone. It’s one of many secrets I keep for my employer, and maybe my favorite one. Because as long as Mr. Grimm kept taking care of Hawk’s cabin…I knew Hawk was still alive. It was my only reassurance that he was safe, and I held onto it with both hands.
“Right.” Hawk shoots Mr. Grimm a hard stare, then swivels his gaze back to me. His look softens, and my heart stutter-steps. “If you’re ready, we can go there now.”
“Of course.” I stand up too quickly, nearly upending a pile of paperwork I brought to my desk to file, then frown down at the stack. “I—there’s all this left to do.”
“Leave it,” both Hawk and Mr. Grimm say at the same time, and it’s almost like there’s a curious tension between them I don’t quite understand, a push-pull of power over—what? Me? But that doesn’t make any sense.
Mr. Grimm breaks first, his face easing into a smile of genuine relief. “You’ll be just fine, Betty. You’re in good hands with Hawk, and I know you’ll be a great support for him.” He shifts his gaze to Hawk, still smiling. “You take care of her.”
“Count on it,” Hawk practically growls back, and by the time he turns to me, I’m at his side. He slants a glance to my sundress, and a brief frown mars his brow. “After you.”
I scuttle out the door in front of him, and we ride down the elevator in silence, while I grip my purse with both hands. What do I do? What do I say? All my elegant and sexy fantasies of how I’d meet Hawk Majors again and blow him away with my beauty and style are going up in smoke. I’ve barely spent five minutes with him and I’m completely tongue-tied! What’s wrong with me?
We step out into the bright Seattle sunshine, and my gaze instantly rivets on the big, muscular motorcycle that’s parked illegally in front of the building. I know in a second it’s his. Of course, it’s his—it’s not the same bike that he roared out of my life on five years ago, but it’s every bit as imposing. There’s already a ticket on the bike, too, and Hawk grabs it and tosses it aside, before sweeping his gaze over me again. “Your dress is going to fly up,” he says matter of factly, and I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches. Is he imagining what my legs will look like beneath the fluttery fabric?
I like him thinking about that, I decide. I like it a lot. I don’t know exactly how Mr. Grimm expects me to help Hawk up at his isolated cabin, just the two of us, but the more I can get Hawk thinking about my legs, the better. My legs, my breasts, my mouth—they’re all burning for him now.
Sliding my crossbody purse over my neck, I secure it diagonally, then take Hawk’s helmet from his outstretched hand. I’m pretty sure there’s a helmet law in Washington, but Hawk clearly cares as much about that as he does the parking ticket. I quickly knot my hair into a high bun, then slide the helmet over my head and strap it on. Hawk swings his leg over his bike and scoots forward, clearing more space for me on the seat.
I stare. How many times have I imagined doing this exact thing in my daydreams? Probably half my fantasies involve Hawk’s motorcycle, and I clamber on as gracefully as possible, tucking my skirt between my thighs and Hawk’s lean hips. I clamp down hard as he roars the bike to life, and think I hear him curse. I slip my hands around his waist beneath his jacket, feeling the heat of his rock-hard abs beneath my fingers, and close my eyes from the sheer bliss of it all. I squeeze my legs more tightly, and this time I definitely hear his curse.
Then we’re off.
I keep my eyes shut tight for the first few minutes, desperately holding on as Hawk roars through the downtown streets. My skirt is flying high behind me, but my thighs do a good job trapping most of the fabric, and I try not to think of the show I’m giving anyone behind us. Luckily, we’re out of the city quickly enough and driving I-90 into the hills, and I let myself enjoy the scenery more. It’s a beautiful ride, and by the time we reach Hawk’s cabin, I’m holding him easily, my own body more relaxed than I would’ve thought possible.
He parks the bike and warns me to avoid the hot pipes as I dismount, then he’s standing as well, taking my helmet and securing it to the bike before striding up the short walk to the cabin. It’s a small but modernly designed place, all redwood planks and big windows overlooking the mountain vista, and I can see at a glance it’s been well maintained.
Hawk opens the cabin door, and evidence of that maintenance continues. The place smells freshly aired, the rug over the wood-paneled floor recently vacuumed.
“You do this?” Hawk asks, his voice gruff, and I shake my head.
“Mr. Grimm arranged everything for the cabin. I never came up here. It’s gorgeous though.”
He nods, and my words seem to please him—but it’s only the truth. The front room is tastefully decorated with a few couches, chairs and tables, the entire room spotless. A large fireplace dominates the space, and I can see another room beyond it, clearly some sort of office. There’s new, gleaming computer equipment and several boxes. That must be the work Mr. Grimm wants Hawk to do—and me to help him with.
I don’t want to do any work with Hawk, though. Not right away. I’m suddenly intensely aware of him standing beside me, and wonder if he can feel the heat that seems to be radiating out of me. I smooth my hand down my dress, desperately trying to come up with any of my fifty-seven million seduction schemes to break the ice—
But I’ve got nothing.
Hawk’s voice fills in the silence. “Office is in there. Looks like Grimm wasn’t kidding about the files. The kitchen and dining room is back that way, and there’s a first-floor bathroom down that hallway.” He gestures. “The hallway also leads to the back deck, where there’s a hot tub—or there was a hot tub. It’s been five years.”
“I’m sure it’s still there,” I say, fidgeting. I take a few steps deeper into the room, my gaze shooting everywhere. Suddenly, I’m too nervous to be standing anywhere near him, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I clasp them tightly, then break them apart, then smooth them down my dress again. “I bet your deck has a great view.”
“View’s pretty good in here, too,” he says casually, and I blink for a second in confusion, then get the reference. My cheeks heat, and I try for a sophisticated smile, but I’m shaking too much. Why am I shaking?
“Oh! Well, thanks,” I manage. “It, ah, really is a nice place.”
He takes another step toward me and I can’t help but inch farther away. “There’s three bedrooms upstairs, too,” he says. “Two of them off to the front, and a master suite that extends the length of the cabin. Would you like a tour?”
“A tour? Oh, yes. Absolutely. A tour would be great. I’d like to get to know everything about this place,” I say quickly, my words coming out as little more than a squeak. I feel way too hot, my heart now pounding, and Hawk’s low, slow chuckle rolls across the space between us, making me shiver.
“That’s good, honeybee,” he murmurs quietly. “Because I think I’d like to get to know everything about you, too.”
