Taming Precious Sinclair (11 page)

Precious looked at the coffee pot. It was only half full. While the pot filled, she headed for the cabinets; finding two mugs, along with cream and sugar. As she spooned level scoops of sweetener into her mug, she heard the familiar sound of the shower running. She also heard the rat-at-tat-tat of water splashing on flesh, then dripping down, finding its way to the drain. When she’d chosen her clothes for the day, without meaning to, she’d found herself picking items that showed off her figure. The teeshirt she wore, flattered her firm full breast and her tight bluejeans hugged low, inches beneath her midriff. When she no longer heard the sound of running water, Precious wondered what Hamilton would choose to wear. She wondered if he too would try to impress her by dressing to bring attention to his body.

“Don’t be a fool.” She’d spoken these words aloud. At this juncture, she needed the audible censure because nothing else seemed to be working.

Precious heard the bounding of heavy feet, then she saw Hamilton rounding the corner. He wore a shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of loosely fitted jeans. There was nothing special about his outfit, and his body was completely covered. But when she lowered her eyes, she’d not expected to see his sock-less and shoeless pale bare feet. Precious flinched when she noticed this. Hamilton’s feet were a good size twelve, and they were clean and partly wet from the shower. When she looked at his toes; even that part of his body held an allure. Inwardly she groaned and asked herself
“how in the world will I ever make it through this?”
Being alone with him had caused her head to dream up fiery thoughts filled with passion. Images pinpointing parts of his body. Ways in which she desired to satisfy him. In the past, she hadn’t lent credence to the myths pertaining to feet and shoe sizes. In spite of that, she
was
certain of a few things. Hamilton’s feet were long and his hands were broad, strong and wide. On a few occasions, when she’d gone unnoticed. Precious had admired his body. Beneath the cover of lowered lashes, she’d studied the way he positioned his length; snaking it down his pant leg, nestled alongside his thigh. She reasoned, if his feet were this alluring; the other parts had to be nothing less than spectacular.

While Precious admired the sensuousness of his manly plantar; Hamilton remained unaware, and he’d wordlessly focused on his kitchen duties. He gathered an assortment of foods to prepare their breakfast. As he did this, Hamilton’s mouth curled up, charming her with one of his sexy smiles. Then he laughed because he’d thought of something funny.

“You know... When I brought you here, I just assumed that you wouldn’t mind my cooking.”

He turned around, still smiling at her. While Hamilton’s gaze centered on her hazel eyes. She didn’t respond in kind because Precious was admiring his luscious lips. For the first time, she noticed something about his smile. Along the sides of his face, two small dimples creased his cheeks. In her head, she could clearly hear a lyrical admiration.
Oh man, he looked so darn sexy to her.
Now she dreaded that she’d stood, gawking at him through her bedroom window this morning. Seeing him in that context was fodder for her brain. She’d made a grave mistake, and now the price would be too much to pay.

Precious had remained quiet, so Hamilton said...

“I am a good cook, you know.”

She forced a smile, while bobbing her head up and down, affirming that she believed him. Hamilton smirked, then he turned back to the stove, wielding fryers and butter. She imagined that he probably was a good cook. Each of his moves in the kitchen were purpose driven. He appeared at ease; much like he confidently conducted his business. As she watched him, Precious tried to downplay his offer to prepare their meal. Cracking eggs didn’t require a special talent and she had offered to help but Hamilton had refused. Still, if she had insisted, perhaps her hands and mind would be occupied with a chore of her own. Because with nothing left to do, her only other option was to watch him.

Hamilton was humming some offbeat song and Precious wasn’t really listening. She was too busy studying his moves, his sways and his motions. With every twist of his wrist or turn of his perfectly toned arms; all she could see was Hamilton with that ax in his hand. She couldn’t stop her eyes from mentally undressing him and she imagined that this was how women felt who worked in male dominated environments. On display, like meat on a platter. She closed her eyes, choosing to leave, rather than have him find her gawking at him.

“Hamilton, I’m a little tired. I’ll be in my room for a while.”

He turned away from the stove, concerned for her wellbeing.

“Can I get you something? Maybe a bottled water.”

He was headed for the refrigerator but Precious stopped him when she said...

“No... I’m not thirsty. Just, call me when breakfast is ready.”

She needed time to clear her head. Time to wash the lascivious visions from her brain. She didn’t see his worried expression and she couldn’t chance, turning to look at him. Precious left the room, without hesitation.

When Hamilton was alone in the kitchen, he heard the sizzling sound made by the heat warming the waiting skillet. Then he smelled the pungent odor of cast iron and burning butter.

“Dammit!” He said aloud, while turning back to the stove. He moved the pan, then dialed down the burner. Hamilton stepped away from the stove, staring at the kitchens entrance. He questioned if he should go to her room, to see if Precious was all right. Then he wondered if the reality of her situation had finally hit home. Since leaving Michigan, they hadn’t really talked about Stone or the shows hateful fans. He wondered if he was doing the right thing by choosing not to mention the topic. But the choice had been made because Hamilton was biding his time. Giving his PR team the leeway to do what they do best. He didn’t want to talk about her problem until after there was something positive to tell her.

Hamilton took a few more steps, moving in the direction of the bedrooms. But before he crossed into the sitting area, he stopped; opting not to disturb her. He recalled her exact words; telling him that she was tired and he had no reason to doubt her. Hell, if he were honest with himself; he needed more than a few hours of sleep. However, when the sun rose; so did his body. He’d never been a daylight sleeper and he’d never tried to force his body to do the opposite.

Hamilton shifted on his feet, returning to the stove to finish cooking. He removed the pan that contained the burnt butter. He placed it in the sink, cleaning it with soap and water. As he did this, his thoughts were primarily on Precious and not his chore. For their first full day here, he’d wanted everything to be perfect and that had been important to him. After breakfast, Hamilton had planned to take her on a tour of the property. He’d always believed the fresh air in the mountains was an experience like nothing else. Most people knew nothing about this side of him. Hamilton enjoyed communing with nature and he’d wanted to shared this with Precious. Since buying this place, there had been no visitors; not even Sammy. No one knew about his private sanctum, except for Audrey and he trusted her implicitly. His mountain home was his private hideaway and that explained his reason for bringing Precious here. Hamilton wanted to share this part of his life with her. However, now he just wanted Precious to feel comfortable and safe in his home. He’d never been filled with so much purpose because in his past, there had never been anyone special in his life. Not until he’d met Amelia Precious Sinclair. He could admit this now because after his sleepless night, he’d come to terms with this. No longer would he doubt what his heart had been attempting to communicate to his brain.

**********************

Chapter 5

3 days in the wilderness,

With no end in sight

“What is my motivation? What is my ambition? What am I doing here?”

With nothing purposeful to ground her, Precious had begun questioning her reality. As a money manger; her professional position demanded a measure of respect and a healthy dose of latitude. When she’d been hired to work at her fathers firm; the executives acknowledged her cunning instincts. She was known for her quick wit and snap discussions; when there was little to go on. The financial world had become something she
could
understand. She knew everything there was to know about money. But without the responsibilities, she felt like a fish out of water. After four nights and three days, stuck in Hamilton’s cabin; she’d done her best to hold her tongue. She also worked on curbing her overactive libido.

After dinner each night; Hamilton would relax in a clearing to enjoy his evening smoke. Days ago, he’d taken her on a tour of the house, but she’d refused to travel beyond the front porch. Hamilton had come close to begging, but he gave up when she told him about her parents summer home. He listened amazed, hearing that she cringed at the thought of camping or engaging in any outdoor activities. Except for winter sports; and she only enjoyed these because, due to the cold, most bugs were dead.

Precious sat on the sofa in the front room, sipping a glass of wine. One good thing she could say about Hamilton’s Mountain home. His cellar held a superior collection of wine and liquor. After dinner, he’d opened a bottle of chardonnay to share with her. Presently, she was alone drinking her fifth glass and the wine was rendering her speechless. Her body hummed a melodious buzz. There was no reason to talk or even think for that matter. For the past three days, Precious had done more than her fair share of wining and complaining. She simply wanted to live in the present. It had been a long while since she’d experienced a sense of serenity. She closed her eyes, allowing her tongue to revisit the wines taste in her mouth. Precious detected hints of spices, and a subtle flavor from wood. She supposed the woody taste came from the barrel used during the fermentation process. The combination melded like a perfect blend. She lifted her glass, sampling another taste of the wine. The flavorful drink was also a source of enormous liquid courage.

Precious palmed her glass, while lifting from the sofa. She crossed the floor wearing a pair of boots, then she wandered out onto the front porch. Not far from the house; Hamilton was seated on a wooden bench, lounging near a stone encircled campfire. It was dark outside, but the fire lit that area like a spotlight. She could see plums of cigarette smoke, mingling with the fumes created by the fire. From where she stood, Hamilton appeared to be enjoying his cigarette. He also looked to be deep in thought. Earlier that day, he’d stood outside, talking on his cell phone. Later, when he came indoors, he’d been unusually quiet. At first Precious pretended not to notice because in time she figured he would surely confide in her. But when hours passed, and he still hadn’t breathed one word, telling her about the phone call; she chose to broach the topic. When he brought her to his remote mountain home, he’d made himself perfectly clear. The location had been chosen to shield her from reporters as well as bad news or shameful reporting. In spite of that, she explained that she wouldn’t be coddled. She wanted to know whatever Hamilton Gantry knew; without the sugarcoating. So when she finally gathered her thoughts, and steadied her nerves; Precious had been quite clear. Outright, she asked him who the caller had been. Notwithstanding his promise to keep her informed, Hamilton had smiled, shrugging if off. He told her that the call was a personal matter; nothing that she need to worry about. Then, he continued on, as if that conversation had ended. That had been hours ago, but she still sensed that something was troubling him. As she considered his curious behavior; her concern for Hamilton outweighed her dislike for the outdoors.

Precious stepped down off the porch, heading towards the campfire. The crackling sounds made by the fire melded with the woodland creatures; causing her approach to be masked by their noise. She was practically standing right behind him by the time he realized that she’d come to join him. When their eyes met, immediately, Hamilton’s expression brightened.

“Precious.” When he said her name, she heard the surprise in his voice.

“Hamilton.” She smiled at him, then purposely her eyes drifted away. She stood still, studying the shape and size of the fire-pit. Since arriving, Precious still had not toured the grounds. Inside of the cabin, some of the walls were decorated with framed photos, capturing the landscape. Hamilton had used the photos as his way to show her the property. As she rounded the fire, choosing to sit on the bench directly opposite him. Precious realized that there weren’t any pictures capturing the campfire pit or the sitting area. With Hamilton appearing to be so relaxed here, she wondered why he’d neglected to photograph an area that he clearly enjoyed.

Hamilton leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He cut her a smile, saying in a teasing voice.

“So, tell me something... What did I do to deserve the pleasure of your company?”

She rolled her eyes at him. This was a worn out topic and she refused to take the bait. Precious didn’t care for the outdoors, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it. She settled in her seat, readying herself to swat, smack and squish crawling or flying creatures. Yet, as she peered into the darkness while narrowing her eyes, she noticed that the smoke was forming a natural barrier. She could hear the chirping sounds made by crickets but she didn’t feel any insects crawling or trying to make a meal out of her. This realization gave her body permission to unwind. Hamilton flicked the remainder of his cigarette into the fire. He reached in his pocket for his breath mints. As he popped a small peppermint flavored square in his mouth, Precious said...