Gifted

Chapter Ten - Sage

I followed him through to the kitchen still in a little shock at him bringing me here... to his home. I knew he had homes in the city but this was where he grew up, it meant something to him.

Who'd have thought Hunter Stone was sentimental?

Nobody outside the family has ever been here, he said. And I believed with every single pound of my heart as excitement and nerves wrestled between themselves.

I did however manage to keep a poker face because letting this man see how he affected me would not be a good thing. My wolf, however, was prancing and preening at being here, not holding back her thoughts at all.

Hell, she would have been purring if she was a cat!

Calm down in there. None of this meant anything—Did it?

She seemed so sure there was more to it but I wasn't, he was immune to my gift for a kick-off.

I took a seat at the kitchen bar and simply watched him; it was hard not to. No matter what room he was in—he always seemed bigger than the room, his presence was all-consuming.

It made me feel small, but weirdly safe.

Hunter removed his jacket, throwing it on a chair without a care. He walked towards the stove, undoing another button on his shirt and unclipped his cuffs, rolling his shirt sleeves up above both elbows. I'd seen no man cook in a dress shirt and trousers before.

But then again I'd seen no man cook before and not for me.

Well, when I say 'cook' I meant looking inside some pots sitting on top of a huge aga stove. "It's a lovely home you have here Hunter." And it was, it was a classic beautiful design and nothing like I expected. It felt like a family home and I almost expected two little ones to come running through at any second.

He turned to face me, and my insides melted and down south, well let's say it was becoming warm, my underwear would need to be peeled from my body. Bloody hell. I clenched my thighs. That smile of his would be the ruin of me, of that I was sure.

"Thanks, it was my parents. I own the three neighbouring houses as well, for my staff. I like them close."

I nodded my head. "Sounds good, close but not too close."

"Yeah, it gives me the extra land to roam around." He threw me a weird look, his eyebrows peaked—as if he knew something I didn't.

"Well, you can never have enough space. I loved living in France, On the property my—" I stopped. Crap. I shouldn't tell him anything—too many questions.

He turned to listen and I said. "Space is good."

Duh. Could I sound any more stupid? Idioté.

He watched me intensely, as if hanging on my every word, waiting for me to continue—which I didn't. I looked down and fiddled with my fingers.

"Do you like Pasta, looks like spaghetti and meatballs?" I looked up as he turned and stirred the pot before looking back at me with a worried look. "Fuck! You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

I pulled my head back. "No." And chuckled. "And it sounds yummy, I'm quite hungry." I was, as my stomach growled and gurgled.

He smiled again. Clench! I was sure to melt into a puddle at this rate.

"Yeah, I can hear it." He winked at me and looked thrilled with my reply, like when you give a child a toffee.

I didn't honestly recognise him. He was behaving nothing like I expected, nothing like what was described in his file.