Page 76 of Hook

He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful smile he’s given me. “Good, I enjoy seeing you happy.”

I arch a brow. “That’s strange. I thought you lived to torment me.”

His jaw works. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing you smile, princess.”

Heat radiates through my entire body as I turn my attention to the garden, not wanting him to see how much his words affect me.

When we get to the beach, I notice a Brandt’s Cormorant perched on the wood post of Cillian’s slip. “Quiet,” I whisper, grabbing the camera and creeping close enough to get a good shot. I snap quite a few angles before the bird startles and flies away. I snap a few of it in flight.

“Did you get any good ones?” Cillian asks, glancing over my shoulder.

I move my camera screen out of his view. “I don’t know yet.”

He chuckles. “Are you embarrassed, princess?”

I shrug. “I’m not used to people taking an interest in my hobby.”

“Well, get used to it, as my only interest is you.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach. The longer I’m with this man, the more difficult it is to resist him when he says things like that.

I sit on the sand and he does too, sitting close to me.

We sit on the beach in silence, watching the wildlife. I snap a load of great shots, thankful to the man sitting next to me for supporting this. It’s more than my dad ever did.

“Do you want a career in photography?” Cillian asks after a while.

I nod in response. “Yes, but my dad says it’s stupid.”

“Tell him he’s fucking stupid. There’s nothing stupid about following your passion.” His lips purse together. “I don’t want you to listen to anyone who tries to shoot you down like that, princess. Understood?”

God damn it. Why is he making it so difficult to hate him?

“I understand,” I murmur, flipping through the photos I took. The dolphins haven’t made an appearance, but I got good photos of birds and a nice shot of a fish jumping from the sea.

Cillian clears his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” I murmur.

“Where’s your mom?”

Something claws at my throat at the question. “Dead.”

His jaw works. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head as it’s always stirs confusing emotions. She was run over when I was two years old and died at the scene. My dad said it was an accident, but as I got older, I began to believe perhaps it was one of his enemies. He has made so many over the years. “I don’t remember her. I was two years old when she died.” I purse my lips together. “Dad never wants to talk about her. I often wonder if she would have been supportive of my passions or not.”

Cillian slides an arm around me and squeezes me against him. “I’m sure she would have been.”

My chest aches as he’s being so comforting. It’s unusual. I never talk about my mom because I have no one to talk about her with. From a young age, my dad would tell me not to talk about her. It’s become my default whenever I think of her to bottle it up.

He kisses my cheek and I turn to look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes. They’re so beautiful. “What are you thinking, princess?”

“I’m thinking I want you to kiss me.”

He smirks and I immediately regret saying it because it feeds his already huge ego. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

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