Chapter Nine
Blake drove her back to the ranch and waited for her to pick which bag she wanted to bring in. He grabbed it from her, wrapped an arm around her, and took her inside.
He took her up some stairs and down the hallway.
He pointed to a door farther down. “That’s my room.” He opened a door. “This will be yours for as long as you want.”
He watched her look around the room.
“This is beautiful,” she said.
He looked around like he was seeing it for the first time.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the room.
It was mostly done in pastels. The floor was hardwood, except for an enormous multicolored rug beneath the bed.
The room had its own bathroom and huge closet.
There was one chair in the room he could see her cuddled up in with a book.
“Thank you, Blake.”
Although it was still early, he could see she was exhausted.
“Can I get you anything to eat before you crash?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t felt like eating.”
“If you get up in the middle of the night, go down the stairs, to the left, and follow the hallway. It will take you to the kitchen. Eat whatever you can find. Dottie, my housekeeper, usually has some sandwich meat and cheese. Just help yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can do that.”
He walked over to her and cupped her cheek.
“It would please me greatly if you made yourself at home. If you get up and want to talk, come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”
“I don’t know why you feel so guilty after this long?”
He sighed and rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones.
“Part of it is guilt. But most of it is that I’ve dreamed of caring for you.
I’ve often imagined you in the kitchen, back patio, office, and bedroom.
You can’t comprehend what it does to me to see you here.
I wish you were happy, and I want to make sure you stay that way and safe. ”
She stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Okay.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good night, honey.”
“Good night.”
Blake went to his office, poured himself a scotch, and sat behind his desk. He took several sips and rested his head against the chair.
He went through a list of things he could do for her. He’d bring cleaners in to clean up the house, and then they could assess the damage.
He tried to determine what could get in the way of keeping her in town where he wanted her. One was her job. Two, her place in the city, although she wasn’t happy living there. She might also have good friends she didn’t want to leave.
And then, fuck, she was going to find out about him sleeping with Shasha, and then her saying she was pregnant. He thought it just might send Hanna running, so he thought it was best to hold off. In the meantime, he’d solidify their relationship.
The corner of his mouth kicked up. They actually had to have a relationship to solidify it, he thought to himself.
In the morning, he’d start his campaign to get her into his life. Failure for him when it came to Hanna was unacceptable.
****
Hanna looked around the room again after Blake left. A shower was her next course of action if she could get her body to move.
She couldn’t remember being this tired in her life, both physically and emotionally.
When she lost her husband, it was a hard blow. She had loved Lucas, and he’d been so good to her.
He had been handsome in a surfer way with his blond hair and blue eyes. His smile and laughter had been infectious to everyone around them.
They had talked about starting a family, and on the one hand, Hanna was devastated she’d not had a child to love after he was gone. Still, another private part of her was glad because she’d dreamed of having Blake’s children so many times and always felt like she was deceiving her husband.
As much as she loved Lucas, Blake had always had a small part of her heart, even after how he treated her in school.
She’d always thought something was wrong with her because his face would pop into her mind sometimes, and instead of hating or resenting him, she’d miss him and wonder what he was doing and if he was married.
She inhaled shakily before grabbing her nightgown and walking into the bathroom.
She pulled her hair up to keep it dry because she had no energy to blow-dry it. After a quick shower and brushing her teeth, she fell into bed, sighed, and was out.
Hanna slept twelve solid hours. When she finally awoke, she felt groggy and uncoordinated until she started moving. She checked her phone, which she’d plugged in the night before, and was shocked that it was close to 9:00.
Her bag was on the chair, and she grabbed some things and went into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, she was out. She was dressed in jeans, a nice short-sleeved button-down shirt, and sandals.
She’d left her hair to dry because she hadn’t brought her blow dryer in, and there hadn’t been one in the bathroom.
The makeup she had with her helped put color on her face and made her look livelier and less pale than when she’d first woken up.
She walked down the hall and descended the steps. At the bottom, she looked both ways.
“Oh, good, you’re up. I was coming to check on you again.”
Blake walked toward her, and she could feel saliva pool in her mouth and her nipples tighten.
She hadn’t felt this type of arousal since her husband died.
It was very easy to see why she did at that moment.
Blake wore faded jeans that hugged his thick thighs and cupped a large bulge she assumed was his cock.
He’d put on an old button-down shirt with rolled sleeves and his cowboy boots.
He looked every inch the cowboy, and all that was missing was the hat.
Her heart stuttered in her chest with fear and anxiety. She knew that he had the ability to destroy her if she let him.