Her Cursed Monster (Mad Protector Series #1)

~Chapter 11~

Madame Percy closing her establishment for any occasion? That woman would make a profit out of an apocalypse. But, wait, if Frost had already talked to her before, then...

"You did this without my approval. Conceitedness will get you nowhere with me, Frost," she fumed.

"It will. Get used to it, little one." His wolfish grin widened. "And, call me Zachary, love, Zachary."

.......................

The walk back to the HartWell house was usually long. However, with Frost by her side, it turned to be excruciatingly slow. After she foolishly stumbled on a rock, in a typical fashion of her, Frost grabbed her by the hand and refused to let go. Even her terrifying glare, as testified by Benjamin, did nothing to intimidate him. The brute had the nerve to laugh and call her adorable.

Finally, the sight of the old rusty gates surrounding the HartWell mansion came into sight. She had never been happier to see that dilapidated fence. Frost's big hand had started to make her feel very strange and that was not just due to the sweat forming on her palm. She refused to dwell on this.

Passing through the imposing gate, Margo tried to imagine her home though his eyes. She could only guess the horrible impression it made on a man of his class. The grass of the small garden had long since overgrown decent standards, now resembling a small jungle like the ones she read about in her encyclopedia. Its only saving grace was a dusty pebbled path leading to the house. Decorated with a majestic porch and beautiful stained glass windows, the HartWell manor was a once a sight to behold even for the sophisticated nobility. However, ever since her mother's death, the building seemed to want to follow its mistress into the after life, with its its stone falling apart at some places and the roof getting more crooked every year. On especially terrible days, she thought of the mansion as a metaphor for her life.

From the corner of her eye, Margo noticed the curtains of one window slowly fluttering, revealing a white fuzzy haired head disappearing quickly. The girl suppressed a groan. That silhouette was surely Nana's. She was never going to hear to end of her grandmother's interrogatory if she did not let go of Frost's hand. Or rather, his of hers.

"Well, now that we arrived, after a very long walk, may I add, it's time we both part ways. Thank you again for your aid this day, it was priceless," she briefly touched his forearm with her free hand. "However, I know you have more demanding things to tend to. I don't want to keep you."

That was a delicate demand to let go of her hand. Which he did not. Either he was dense or stubborn. She was strongly leaning towards the latter.

"My only priority is currently sitting in front of me trying to cut our precious time short," Frost leaned into her and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. His tone was controlled as if talking to himself as well. "But, I know time is what you seek right now and I shall give you, little one."

Before Margo could sigh in relief, Frost opened his eyes and smiled wickedly. That devilishly handsome grin of his could only spell trouble for her.

"But not before I get something to tide me over,"with her left hand still trapped in his, the indigo-eyed beast caressed her neck and bent towards her. Traitorous butterflies started raiding her stomach.

A subtle aroma of cinnamon drifted.

Margo's gaze drifted to Frost's approaching mouth. For such a beast of a man, he certainly had a soft pair of lips that made the girl's imagination wander on dangerous territory. He noticed her gaze and licked his lips in return. His own eyes were smoldering with sensual secrets he was all too willing to share with her. It was hard to be gazed at so intensely and pretend her heart was calm. Especially with that intoxicating scent filling her lungs.