Whoever this woman was, wherever she came from and whatever this device was, there had to be a rational explanation. And he was going to wait right here for her to wake up, to hear it straight from her delectable lips.
CHAPTER 5 - The strange (but handsome) gentleman.
SHE WAS FALLING, FALLING. The light was approaching fast. It was going to hit her, swallow her... nooo!
Olivia jolted awake with a scream. The brightness of the day pierced her eyes, so she slammed them closed, falling back onto the pillow with a groan. Then a deliciously deep voice with a British accent laced with anxiety spoke.
“Madam? Are you well?”
She forced herself to open her eyes more slowly this time, and peered in the voice's direction, and gaped.
The most handsome man she had ever seen hovered over her. Dark blond hair, thick and wavy, a few strands falling forward over his tall forehead and almost touching slashing eyebrows that were just a shade darker than his hair. Beneath those eyebrows, piercing blue eyes fringed by ridiculously long lashes any woman would envy, a straight nose, and the most kissable lips she had ever seen. Not too full, not too thin, just perfectly shaped and firm. He had a day’s growth of beard accentuating the strong contours of his jaw and chin, and an expression of concern on his face. For her? He was concerned about her?
Her sluggish brain clicked into gear, and memories of the strange accident flashed through her mind. The headache was gone, and it didn’t hurt anywhere else. She wanted to tell him, but her mind refused to cooperate. She got all tongue-tied and flustered. Oh my god, how embarrassing. What was she, a teenage girl? Mistaking her silence for confusion, he addressed her again.
“Do you speak English? Can you understand me?”
He must think her an idiot. At long last, her addled brain clicked on. “Yes.” The word croaked out of her dry mouth, and she cleared her throat.
Seeming relieved that she understood him, he continued talking.
“Would you like some water?”
His voice was as beautiful as the rest of him, and his accent made it all the sexier. What was it about a British accent that caressed her ears and turned her insides to warm honey? Water, he was offering water. And she was parched.
“Yes, please,” she said.
He slid a powerful arm behind her shoulders and supported her so she could sit, then pressed an exquisite cut crystal goblet full of water into her hand.
She almost swooned again at the sensation of being held so close to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the strength of his arms. He smelled good, too. Like a forest full of exotic plants. She gave a mental head shake. Enough fanciful notions. She gulped the water greedily and almost choked, coughed a couple of times, and then sipped again more carefully.
She could sit on her own, but his arm around her felt nice. Intimate. The water was fresh and delicious, a soothing balm to her dry throat. She sipped the rest of the cool liquid, hoping to drag out this closeness for as long as possible.
Once finished, Mr. Hunk set her back on the pillows and withdrew his arm. More’s the pity.
“Could you tell me your name?” he asked.
