Cryptic Curse, page 23
But this woman… She’s a little closed off. A little demure. A little enigmatic.
A challenge.
And I could never resist a challenge.
“Well, Ms. Maravilla—”
“Alissa, please.”
I smile. “Well, Alissa”—God, her name rolls off my tongue like a freaking prayer—“if you’re not shopping for a boyfriend or husband, do you have a father or brother who might be looking for something nice?”
“I’m an only child.” She swallows. “And…I don’t have much of a relationship with my father since my mother died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” she says a little quickly. “We weren’t exactly close. My mother and I… It’s a complicated history.” She closes her eyes, rubs at her forehead. “I’m sorry. This isn’t something I should be discussing with someone I hardly know. You’ve got a shop to run.” She turns toward the exit.
I hold out a hand. “Not at all. As you can see, I have no other customers. This is a slow time of the year.” I gesture toward a couple of leather armchairs on the opposite side of the shop with a small table in between them. “Would you like to talk a little more? I have some tea in the back. I can put a pot on. You must be chilled to the bone in this weather.”
She opens her mouth, looking me up and down. “Are you assuming from my accent alone that I enjoy tea?”
I chuckle. “I’m assuming nothing of the sort, Alissa. I was craving a cup myself and figured it would be rude not to offer some to my guest.”
She smirks. “I’m hardly a guest. I’m just a woman who took a different way home and walked into your shop.”
I grin. “And am I glad you did.”
She looks toward the door. “I really should be getting home. I have…a chicken breast thawing in the fridge.”
“Just a cup,” I say. “I’ve got an electric kettle. It only takes a minute to get going. I can bring it out, prepare everything in front of you. I’m not going to try to roofie you or anything.”
She laughs at that. “I didn’t think that was the case, Mr. Hathaway.”
“Maddox, please.”
“Maddox, yes.” The blush on her cheeks grows. “You know what? A spot of tea sounds lovely. Just one cup, and then I’d better head home.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep you from that chicken breast of yours.” I wink at her.
I go into the back and gather an electric kettle, a Polish teapot with intricate floral designs—another score from the antique shop—a couple of teabags, and two delicate cups. I fill the kettle with water from the tap and place everything on a silver tray, which I bring back out to Alissa. She’s taken off her jacket to reveal a pair of blue scrubs patterned with tiny flowers.
Damn. Never has such a practical outfit looked so sexy.
“Earl Grey all right?” I place the tray on the small table between the armchairs.
“All right?” She smiles. “It’s my favorite.”
“Really? Mine too.” I kneel and plug in the electric kettle.
“It’s the perfect evening tea. English Breakfast in the mornings, of course.” She eyes the teapot. “And what a gorgeous teapot. Where did you find it?”
“There’s an antique shop down the street,” I say. “Wanda’s Wonders. A lot of great treasures in there.” I point to the phonograph in the corner, still playing soft jazz music. “I got that beauty there as well.”
“Goodness, look at that.” She returns her gaze to me. “I must admit, Maddox, you have me leaning in.”
“Do I?” I grin at her, holding my gaze on her silently for just a few seconds too long before I turn my head to the sound of the kettle hissing. “Water is ready.”
She widens her eyes. “That was quick.”
“The kettle must have heard about your chicken breast.” I place three teabags in the pot and pour the water over it. “It’ll need just a minute to steep.” I look back into her gorgeous eyes. “In the meantime, Alissa, tell me where you grew up.”
“As you may have guessed from my accent, London.”
“Really?” I raise my eyebrows in mock shock. “I assumed Norway, or perhaps Bulgaria.”
She exhales sharply through her nose. “Very funny.”
“Maravilla, though… That’s a Spanish name.”
She nods. “My father was born in Spain. He moved to London for work, which is where he met my mother. They had me and raised me there. I came to the United States on a student visa and have been here since.”
“Student visa?” I ask. “Where did you go to school?”
“Northwestern,” she says. “I got my bachelor’s and master’s degrees there.”
“In what?”
She eyes the teapot. “The tea is probably ready by now.”
“Of course.” I pour two cups, handing one to her. “You were about to tell me what you went to school for.”
She looks down, straight into her teacup. “I went there for…flute performance.”
I drop my jaw. “You’re a musician?”
She takes a sip of tea. “I was. I tried to do the audition circuit, got to the final round with a couple of regional orchestras, but I never landed a seat. So I decided to try nursing instead. I went back to school and got my associate’s degree. Now I work at St. Charles General, near the Loop. Been there five years or so.”
I take a sip from my own cup of tea. The liquid is nearly scalding. But it keeps my dick at bay. I’m damned uncomfortable.
“Do you still play? The flute, I mean?”
She sighs. “Not as often as I’d like. I’ll occasionally get a gig playing a wedding or church service. Not much to show for six years of university.”
“It’s got to be a tough industry to break into. Especially in an artsy city like Chicago.”
She nods. “It is. I just… Sometimes I wonder if I should have tried to make it work just a bit longer. I gave it barely a year before giving it up.”
“Do you enjoy nursing?”
She blinks. “Yes. For the most part, I suppose. It’s a steady paycheck, and I’m making a difference in people’s lives.”
I’m not convinced. She sounds the way I would have sounded if I had followed in my family’s footsteps into politics. But I won’t press further. I just met the woman, after all.
“It’s a very noble calling, nursing,” I say. “I hear you guys do all the work while the doctors get all the credit.”
She smiles. “It’s not quite that cut and dried. The doctors do contribute.” She takes another sip of tea. “As much as a solid ten percent on a good day.”
I laugh at that. Alissa is funny, in the dry, British sort of way.
She finishes her cup of tea. “Thank you so much for the cup of tea, Maddox. I should really be getting home.” She looks out the window of the shop. “Goodness. It’s dark outside already.”
“You have to love winter in Chicago,” I say. “Cold, dark, and icy. Makes you wonder why any of us choose to brave it year after year.”
She places her teacup back on the tray and looks at me with warm eyes. “I suppose it’s the people, Maddox.”
And in that moment, it takes everything in my body not to grab her, strip her naked, and fuck her silly right on the floor of the shop. Customers be damned, passersby be damned, my family name—if it’s even worth anything now—certainly be damned…
But I don’t. I can tell that Alissa isn’t that type of girl. At least, not on the first meeting.
I can get her there.
“May I offer you a ride home?” I ask. “It’s past closing time anyway.”
She grabs her jacket from the back of the armchair she was sitting in and puts it on. “I couldn’t ask that of you, Maddox.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And it’s no problem. Do you live around here?”
“Off of Wilson and Clark, but I really—”
I hold up my hand. “Please. I couldn’t in good conscience allow a young woman to walk home alone in the dark. Wilson and Clark is a five-minute drive from here tops.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “And you promise you won’t try to abduct me and keep me tied up to a bed in your basement?”
I flash her a smile. “I’ll try my best.”
Continue reading Spades…
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m loving Hawk and Daniela so far, and I hope you are too! Thank you as always to my editor, Eric J. McConnell; my cover artist, Amanda Shepard of Shepard Originals; the wonderful narrators who brought Hawk and Daniela to life, Kristopher Harney and Laura Sanders; and to my amazing beta readers, Karen Aguilera, Serena Drummond, and Linda Dunn.
Thanks also to you, my readers! I couldn’t do what I love without each one of you.
ALSO BY HELEN HARDT
Bellamy Brothers
Savage Sin
Sweet Sin
Seductive Sin
Vengeful Vice
Volatile Vice
Victorious Vice
Cryptic Curse
Chaotic Curse
Captivating Curse
Aces Underground
Spades
Diamonds
Clubs
Hearts
Follow Me Series
Follow Me Darkly
Follow Me Under
Follow Me Always
Darkly
Under
Always
My Heart Still Beats
Black Rose Series
Blush
Bloom
Blossom
Wolfes of Manhattan
Rebel
Recluse
Runaway
Rake
Reckoning
Escape
Moonstone
Raven
Garnet
Buck
Opal
Phoenix
Amethyst
How to Marry a Billionaire
Enticing You
Captivating You
Seducing You
Claiming You
Sex and the Season
Lily and the Duke
Rose in Bloom
Lady Alexandra’s Lover
Sophie’s Voice
The Perils of Patricia
Steel Legends
I am Sin
I am Salvation
Steel Brothers Saga
Craving
Obsession
Possession
Melt
Burn
Surrender
Shattered
Twisted
Unraveled
Breathless
Ravenous
Insatiable
Fate
Legacy
Descent
Awakened
Cherished
Freed
Spark
Flame
Blaze
Smolder
Flare
Scorch
Chance
Fortune
Destiny
Melody
Harmony
Encore
Blood Bond Saga
Unchained
Unhinged
Undaunted
Unmasked
Undefeated
Temptation Saga
Tempting Dusty
Teasing Annie
Taking Catie
Taming Angelina
Treasuring Amber
Trusting Sydney
Tantalizing Maria
The Billion Heirs (with Vanessa Vale)
Scarred
Flawed
Broken
Non-Fiction
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Cooking with Hardt & Soul
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
#1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author Helen Hardt’s passion for the written word began with the books her mother read to her at bedtime. She wrote her first story at age six and hasn’t stopped since. In addition to being an award-winning author of romantic fiction, she’s a mother, an attorney, a black belt in Taekwondo, a grammar geek, an appreciator of fine red wine, and a lover of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. She writes from her home in Colorado, where she lives with her family. Helen loves to hear from readers.
Website: https://www.helenhardt.com/
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Helen Hardt, Cryptic Curse
