Inner Core: (Stark, #2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

a narrow glanceat me that clearly says, “That part you didn’t fail to tell, huh?” —but before either of us manages to come up with a response my mother gives my father a warning look and says, too sweetly, “Derek, I need a hand in the kitchen. Now .” My father's reluctance is ridiculously obvious, but he stands and follows my mom, staring suspiciously and displeased at Daniel. As if his next move will be pointing two fingers at his own eyes and then at Daniel's.
    What the hell happened to my poised and polite father? What’s up with the obsessive-compulsive protectiveness?
    By my side I can clearly see Jekyll wrestling Hyde, trying to prevent a fight .
    “So, he does know about me?” Daniel asks as soon as they both leave toward the kitchen, withdrawing his hand away from mine. His expression is somewhere between a touch irritated and fully annoyed. “I assume not by the good chapter of our story,” he adds, scornfully.
    “No, that's not it. When he first saw me he thought I looked upset, and he came to the conclusion that it was because of a guy himself. I never elaborated.”
    Daniel nods blankly, his jaw ticking as he thinks.
    “Sorry, I didn’t think he’d act this overprotective. This is so out of character for him. I am actually as surprised as you are,” I whisper.
    Daniel shrugs. “I would castrate anyone who got within two feet of my daughter, so I've got to give it to him for not taking out his shotgun yet.”
    And how Daniel of him to conclude it this way.
    Before my parents can come back to join us I call to the kitchen that I'm going to pack and hastily lead Daniel up to my room . A break is definitely in order.
    As soon as I lock the door behind us I can feel the physical tension we always have between us charging fast, faster than ever. It feels as though there's a magnetic field drawing us toward each other. Every aspect of him is so noticeable to me now, from the way his shirt is molded to his chest, to the way his soft hair falls on his forehead, to the scar on his brow as his eyes bore into me.
    In that way .
    He moves his stare from me to scan the room, which seems to shrink from his virile physical presence.
    “A trip to young Hayley’s world.” His lips quirk up to a half smile as he studies some photos of me from high school that are pinned to a corkboard with some other keepsakes. There are ancient concert tickets, a worn-out friendship band that I got from some BFF in junior high whose name I can’t even remember now, and a piece of paper with a quote from one of Bon Jovi’s songs that I lived by. Daniel traces the bold letters written in my younger self's round handwriting on the yellowed, crumbled piece of paper and says, “Quite a strong quote to hang on a teenager’s wall.”
    “At the time it made lots of sense,” I say, nostalgic.
    “Salvation caught the last train out of town?” He turns to look my way with an arched brow. I shrug.
    “Let’s leave psychoanalysis to some other time.” I implore him with my expression.
    “I can do that.” His voice becomes lower and deeper now as he saunters slowly toward me, clear intent in his pointed hazel stare. “Something else you have in mind, Miss Grace?” In less than a heartbeat and without waiting for a reply, he closes the gap between us. He bends down slowly til he is planted between my legs as I recline on my childhood bed. My heart starts to pound. It's been much too long .
    He inclines toward me, his hands pressed to the sides of my shoulders, propping him above me. He lightly presses his thigh into my middle, which starts to throb, heated.  His eyes level with mine, he pauses for a moment, watching me with palpable lust.
    “If there’s something I wanted since the moment I saw you today…” His voice is hoarse.
    “Same goes here.” My faint whisper echoes his tone, and I swallow hard. My eyes travel to his lips. He bends lower and presses a kiss full of longing to my eager mouth. I gasp with an