Page 36 of Rescued By the Beast
He remains there, watching. Staring at me. As if he expects something from me, something I have no idea what it is.
My heart feels like it's going to explode, and my lack of reaction only prolongs the moment. I hold my breath to endure the discomfort, he sighs, his broad shoulders rising and falling slowly.
Then Mark stands up, and his frown seems too dangerous for me to look at directly.
It's sensual, yes, but dangerous.
His jaw is firm, his muscles tense. He runs his hands through his blond hair, pulling it back, and the movement makes his biceps look even bigger.
"You must be hungry. I'll prepare your food and be right back."
I just blink, unable to make a sound.
He holds my gaze for another moment, his eyes golden, like molten gold, so hot they make my skin burn. Then he presses his lips together and turns his back on me.
Finally, air returns to my lungs.
Where on earth have I got myself into?
Chapter 12
Sandra
The smells coming from the kitchen hit me in waves, each one more irresistible than the last.
Chicken, that's for sure, I recognise the aroma. I also smell the slightly sweet scent of fruit. My mouth waters before I realise it, and my tail moves involuntarily, as if it had a mind of its own.
I should be looking for ways to escape, but my stomach has other priorities.
It's been a while since I've eaten anything decent.
I can't even remember the last time I ate anything other than a peanut butter and milk sandwich.
Ironically, being trapped in this feline body, it seems that my diet is about to improve considerably.
Mark leaves the kitchen with two jars — one in each hand — and walks towards me. My heart races, and I sit up, curious.
He stops in front of me, crouches down, and places the jars in front of me.
"Bon appétit, kitten."
My feline eyes widen when I see the feast. In one of the jars, the chicken is shredded to perfection, accompanied by small pieces of carrot and courgette, arranged so harmoniously that it could be served in a restaurant. In the other jar, a portion of carefully cut fruit — watermelon and some blueberries.
"Eat and rest."
For a moment, I think about ignoring the food out of sheer pride, but the smell hits me again, and my stomach growls loudly enough to betray any attempt at resistance. I lower my head and take a cautious bite of the chicken.
Oh! By the stars. How delicious.
As I devour the food, my thoughts become hazy.
Is staying here a little longer really that bad?
He seems determined to take care of me, and I really need strength if I want to escape.
After filling my belly, I wait for a moment when he leaves me alone to try to escape. However, to my misfortune, Mark settles intohis home office, which, with no doors to separate the rooms, gives him a clear view of the living room.
From where he is sitting, he only has to turn his head slightly to watch me, and he would certainly notice if I tried to sneak behind him or go upstairs.
