Page 3 of Unapologetic Obsession
Fruits.
Meats.
Fish.
Pastries.
Bread.
Someone was transferring the trays to the L-shaped tables to set up the buffet. Perhaps they were interrupted, or they went to the kitchen to grab serving spoons. Whatever the case, they’d return soon to complete the setup. Time was of the essence.
I ran to the stands and snatched a muffin from one of the trays. I sank my teeth into it and moaned.
Oh God, that tastes good.
“Hey, you! Stop right there,” a man yelled from behind me.
A burly hand wrapped around my wrist before I could take another bite. I shrieked, knowing I’d be kicked out. At least I had swiped a muffin. It would last me a day, more if I only ate a little at a time.
With a grim expression, the bearded, stocky man squeezed my wrist with his much larger hand. “You thieving bitch. Let go,” he shouted.
“No!” I cried when he managed to dislodge the muffin. It fell on the table with a soft thud. “No, please, please let me have it.” Desperation flared as my last shred of hope slipped through my fingers. Fat tears leaked from my eyes, and I lunged for it.
The man yanked me back with a jerk. “Get the fuck out of here.”
He shoved me, and I fell face-first, hitting my forehead against the hard ground. I twisted my ankle when I fell, the pain ignited like lightning. With my eyes on the floor, I could no longer see him but was mentally prepared for his next onslaught. What I heard instead was a resounding blow, and I twisted my neck to follow the commotion. The stocky man had been thrown against the wall.
“Dr. M-Maxwell?” he stuttered, grabbing onto his chubby belly where he had presumably been kicked. I followed his gaze.
A newcomer had entered the room, though I couldn’t make out his face with his back to me. Instead, my eyes leveled with his expensive black shoes, slowly trailing up to a pair of slacks fitted to his muscular thighs and settling on the light blue shirt covering his broad shoulders. He was incredibly tall with dirty-blond hair.
He—Dr. Maxwell—was built like a giant. His shoulders rose and fell from the exertion of hitting someone. Or was it anger? The tense muscles around his neck contracted, his attention lasered on the fumbling fool before him.
“I-I found this stowaway trying to steal food—” the stocky man attempted to explain, but was promptly interrupted when he was hefted higher against the wall. Dr. Maxwell’s next punch was so impactful that the decorative art pieces on the wall fell to the ground.
Oh God.
Perhaps it was best if I left during their brawl. I tried to stand, but putting weight on my twisted ankle hurt too much. I crawled under the table instead and took refuge inside the chef’s nook. Rising to my knees, I watched the two men over the table.
The doctor spoke in a deep voice, reaching inside me to stir up a tinge of familiarity. Because I was busy trying to put my finger on it, his words took a few seconds to register. “I’m going to break the hand you used to touch her. Do we understand each other?”
It was his only warning before he grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it with a ruthlessness I had yet to witness in this world. Two people screamed simultaneously. The man, whose hand was now broken, and the second cry came from me.
My petrified shriek distracted Dr. Maxwell, and his victim scampered away. From under the table, I saw his strong legs marching toward me, and my parched voice gave out in fear.
The doctor squatted on the ground, tilting his head to peek under the table. Before our gazes could clash, I jolted when I caught a whiff of his scent. I recognized the hint of amber infused with something intoxicating. It held a remarkable resemblance to warmth and the outdoors, like cashmere wrapped in wood. Images of large hands roaming my body played on repeat, waking something inside me that had been lying dormant. His essence dwarfed the little alcove, and I huddled in the farthest corner.
It didn’t stop him from locating me. “Found you, you little runaway.”
Chapter
Two
ROSE
His intense gazepinned me in place, and I reluctantly returned it. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips at the sight of his face. From up close, he was more intimidating than I had expected. His piercing sky-blue eyes stripped me bare, as if he knew all my secrets. He wore a stoic expression, while his full lips pressed in a hard line that gave nothing away.
The air felt hotter with every breath I took, and I almost suffocated under the weight of this man’s imposing presence. My palms grew slick with sweat. One look had unsettled me, and I nervously fidgeted, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.
