Sinful Heir (The Heirs 6)
I instantly harden at the thought, and taking a deep breath, I load food onto my plate.
“Do you need help moving your personal belongings to Trinity?” I ask.
Hana shakes her head as she cuts a piece of the salmon off. “Fallon and I are making a day of it.”
“How’s Fallon?” I ask out of courtesy.
“She’s well.” Hana lets out a chuckle. “She can’t wait to take over Trinity. She’s already planned everything for the committees she’ll be serving on.”
“Are you joining the committees?” I take a bite from the calamari.
Hana shakes her head and first swallows before answering, “It’s Fallon’s passion.”
My hands still. “What’s your passion?”
Hana shrugs. “I don’t know. I was too focused on my studies to have any interests.”
“You need to make time to relax, Hana,” I say, feeling worried that she’ll push herself even harder while studying for her law degree.
She must hear the concern in my voice because her lips instantly curve up. “I will.”
“Good.”
“How’s work?” she asks.
I wait for her to load more food on her plate, and I watch as she drizzles lemon butter over the serving of deshelled prawns.
When she glances at me, I answer, “The import and export business has successfully taken off.”
A smile warms her features. “That’s good to hear. You must’ve worked hard.”
Nodding, I say, “I also took over Mr. Ballmer’s business.” I watch closely for her reaction to the news.
Not that Ballmer had much of a choice. He either retired or planned his funeral.
Hana searches her mind, then she shakes her head. “I don’t think I know of him.”
My mouth lifts slightly. “He’s the man who bumped into you at the Christmas event last year.”
Recognition dawns on her face. “Did he retire?”
I nod once.
“I recall Fallon saying he’s huge in the import and export business.” Interest darkens Hana’s eyes. “Congratulations, Tristan.” She lets out a chuckle. “Hopefully, he won’t be at this year's Christmas function.”
“He won't,” I assure her.
“Good,” she murmurs before she takes a bite of her food.
We take our time to enjoy our meal, and once we’re done, I get up. I take off my jacket and rest it over the back of the chair. While I roll my sleeves up, Hana rises to her feet.
“You can leave your clutch,” I say. “Security is close by.”
She sets it down on her chair then turns to me. I take hold of her hand, and slowly we make our way up the path.
“Can I see you tomorrow night?” I ask to get it out of the way.
Hana nods, her eyes dancing over my face before she peers into the darkness around us. “I don’t see the security.”
“That’s how I prefer it,” I inform her.
Feeling tonight was a success, I have to suppress the urge to kiss Hana.
Fuck, it’s going to be hard taking it slow with her.
I glance down at her.
It’s going to be impossible.
Chapter 7
HANA
Assuming we won’t be going out but instead staying in, I get dressed in a pair of jeans and a cream silk top. This weekend I’ll be moving to Trinity, so I’m savoring my last couple of days at home.
I make myself a cup of herbal tea, and carrying it outside, I lift my gaze to the stars twinkling above. I can stare at the heavens for hours on end. It grounds me to think how insignificant I am in comparison to the vast universe surrounding our little planet.
I feel eyes on me, and without turning around, I know Tristan is here.
Wondering how long he’ll watch me, I keep sipping on my tea. When I’m done, I turn around. The sight of him sitting in the living room, his eyes focused on me, robs me of my breath.
Tristan looks ungodly handsome in a black pair of chinos and a charcoal button-up shirt. Again, the sleeves are rolled up to below his elbows, giving me a view of the veins mapping his forearms.
His mouth curves up as he rises to his feet, but he waits for me to walk to him.
When I reach him, I place my hand on his chest, and standing on my tiptoes, I wait for him to lower his head before I press a kiss to his cheek. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“Give me a moment.” I walk to the kitchen and place the empty cup in the dishwasher.
When I get back to the living room, Tristan’s taken my spot outside, and he’s staring up.
My gaze glides over his broad shoulders, his trim waist, ending at his butt that looks like it’s been carved from steel.
Dang, he’s something else. Hot doesn’t begin to describe him.
Stopping beside him, I ask, “Isn’t it amazing?”
“The stars?” he asks.
Shaking my head, I explain, “How insignificant we are.”
Tristan turns to me, and the moment our eyes lock, it feels like an electric shock to my abdomen. His voice is deep with a roughness around the edges as he murmurs, “There’s nothing insignificant about you, Hana.”