I’ve moved on to another WIP. It’s just an idea at the moment, so bear with me for the first few posts.
“Now, don’t freak out again.” He held up his hand. “I won’t hurt you. I actually can’t.”
“Ah … ahh … ahh…” A mix of fear and curiosity shot through her, and as much as she wanted to step back to grab her phone, she was frozen to the spot.
“For a highly educated medical person you seem to be lacking proper articulation.” He sat on a chair. “How about you have your glass of water and join me so I can answer your questions.”
“Ah … I … how …” Hannah took a deep breath as she studied him. Quite to her disbelief her mouth curved into a smile as she took in his wild, curly black hair. Clearly, he was too busy breaking into houses instead of visiting a hairdresser. His bright blue eyes drew her in, most likely the reason why she didn’t scream murder and called the police. Carefully, and yes courageously, she stepped to the sink, grabbed a glass and filled it, never leaving him out of her sight … or the block of knives on the kitchen bench. Nothing about him made sense. Attractive, but at the same time neglected, the hair, the clothes, good Lord, the suit he wore was something from the seventies. But underneath it seemed he hid a well-shaped body. Looking at his pale face, she was tempted to offer him a drink and some food.
“Ah … ehrm … did you break in because you have nowhere to go?” she croaked, finally taking a sip of her water.
He cocked a brow. “Really?” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table. “This is going to be harder than expected.”
“Ah … okay … as in … what?”
“Do you really think I could’ve run from your friend’s place to here and break into your house?”
Now that he put it that way, it did sound ridiculous, but …
“Who the hell are you? And how did you get in here?”
A mischievous smile spread across his face and suddenly he looked sexy as hell. A simple smile did that. One simple smile.
“My name is Bigalow.”
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