Read Online The Look: Alpha Male, Feisty Female Romance by Blair Aaron - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Blair Aaron
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with them in the town. She surmised all the glorious possibilities it would bring to their village. Perhaps, she thought, they might one day leave, with the man as a guide to how to pass into the wilderness. Elsa stopped that line of thinking, realizing how unholy it was. Father O'Grady would never forgive her. The cool air careened down from the cliff on the sea, through the town and onto her porch, bathing her naked neck in a sweet, cold draft, sending goosebumps through her skin's surface. She lay her head back, daydreaming about the man, wondering what to call him, and how he would respond to her once he laid conscious eyes on her.
And one day, despite the nearly intolerable build-up to meeting him, she saw someone familiar in the garden near the cabin. Elsa was coming home from work, and for a moment, she forgot she was passing by his house. The grass on the pavement next to his home grew wild and unkempt, and she looked ahead at a man in a red shirt, plowing the field next to his house, his large and muscular back bent over, so she could not see his face. Elsa simply had not been paying attention, and she thought in an absent-minded way how kind it was that the man standing before her offered his services for that reclusive inhabitant she so longed to see. And like so many times before, her body and heart realized who the man bent over plowing the field was before her mind did. In an instant, she ducked behind the wall, just as the man stopped his work and looked up into the air. He felt her presence, or someone's presence, clearly. He took off his brown hat, revealing shiny, luscious hair. The wind tousled it, drying the sweat from the crown of his forehead. Elsa looked behind the wall, as the blond haired man looked around the area, wondering whose presence he sensed. Elsa looked him up and down, at his statue-like frame, his height, his form-fitting gray pants, and burning red shirt, which outlined massive muscles along his back and chest. Physically the man was imposing and dangerous, but his demeanor, his aura, never approached violent, as his soul radiated goodness and truthfulness. The same foreign, powerful feeling continued to blossom in Elsa's heart for the man, so electrified was she by the first sight of him since that night in the grass. But she dare not approach him now, because she was not ready. She waited behind the wall until he wiped his fit forearms with the towel and went back into his home.
CHAPTER 8
The day's events spurred Elsa to take a walk around town, the energy of meeting the blond man once again, the leaps of joy bounding through her heart upon witnessing his vitality and health giving her a spurt of energy that refused sleep. On her walk, Elsa passed another familiar cottage, separated on the exact opposite side of town, the area some might describe as slovenly, perhaps even dangerous, though there was only one real place that posed real danger, the Forbidden Forest.
Even though the community in which Elsa was raised taught her the importance of brotherly love and the dangers of being judgmental, most of Elsa's friends could never keep themselves from terrorizing the local elderly woman, named Freja Stein, on the other side of town during the autumn months. The children labeled her a witch, building up myths around her back story that involved the leaders of the community, its priests, parishioners, cooks, counselors, and teachers somehow overlooking the fact that Freja Stein had come from the forest. The leaders wanted to forget about the witch in her lonely cottage, the children told themselves, because Freja might cast a spell on them. One particular story most of them believed was this: Freja Stein was feeding her slew of owls one day, while a teenage girl laughed at her for being crazy. Then Freja simply looked up to the girl who mocked her and clicked her eyelids just once. The girl continued walking home from school, chuckling to herself, but soon found owls flying on
And one day, despite the nearly intolerable build-up to meeting him, she saw someone familiar in the garden near the cabin. Elsa was coming home from work, and for a moment, she forgot she was passing by his house. The grass on the pavement next to his home grew wild and unkempt, and she looked ahead at a man in a red shirt, plowing the field next to his house, his large and muscular back bent over, so she could not see his face. Elsa simply had not been paying attention, and she thought in an absent-minded way how kind it was that the man standing before her offered his services for that reclusive inhabitant she so longed to see. And like so many times before, her body and heart realized who the man bent over plowing the field was before her mind did. In an instant, she ducked behind the wall, just as the man stopped his work and looked up into the air. He felt her presence, or someone's presence, clearly. He took off his brown hat, revealing shiny, luscious hair. The wind tousled it, drying the sweat from the crown of his forehead. Elsa looked behind the wall, as the blond haired man looked around the area, wondering whose presence he sensed. Elsa looked him up and down, at his statue-like frame, his height, his form-fitting gray pants, and burning red shirt, which outlined massive muscles along his back and chest. Physically the man was imposing and dangerous, but his demeanor, his aura, never approached violent, as his soul radiated goodness and truthfulness. The same foreign, powerful feeling continued to blossom in Elsa's heart for the man, so electrified was she by the first sight of him since that night in the grass. But she dare not approach him now, because she was not ready. She waited behind the wall until he wiped his fit forearms with the towel and went back into his home.
CHAPTER 8
The day's events spurred Elsa to take a walk around town, the energy of meeting the blond man once again, the leaps of joy bounding through her heart upon witnessing his vitality and health giving her a spurt of energy that refused sleep. On her walk, Elsa passed another familiar cottage, separated on the exact opposite side of town, the area some might describe as slovenly, perhaps even dangerous, though there was only one real place that posed real danger, the Forbidden Forest.
Even though the community in which Elsa was raised taught her the importance of brotherly love and the dangers of being judgmental, most of Elsa's friends could never keep themselves from terrorizing the local elderly woman, named Freja Stein, on the other side of town during the autumn months. The children labeled her a witch, building up myths around her back story that involved the leaders of the community, its priests, parishioners, cooks, counselors, and teachers somehow overlooking the fact that Freja Stein had come from the forest. The leaders wanted to forget about the witch in her lonely cottage, the children told themselves, because Freja might cast a spell on them. One particular story most of them believed was this: Freja Stein was feeding her slew of owls one day, while a teenage girl laughed at her for being crazy. Then Freja simply looked up to the girl who mocked her and clicked her eyelids just once. The girl continued walking home from school, chuckling to herself, but soon found owls flying on
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