Chapitre 21: Chapter 21
Della's eyes flew open, and she turned quickly, pressing a hand to her chest. Hunter stood above her, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. He wore a loose, white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark trousers that hung casually on his hips. The shirt, slightly unbuttoned, caught the breeze, rippling softly as he stood there. His hair, tousled and windblown, gave him a relaxed, unguarded look she wasn't used to seeing.
"I figured I'd find you here." He spoke softly, his voice barely rising above the whisper of the waves. He lowered himself to the sand beside her, taking his time, moving with a quiet grace. One arm draped casually over his knee as he settled in, his eyes studying the water.
Della blinked, her pulse still racing from the surprise. "I'm surprised I didn't hear you."
A faint smile touched his lips. "I didn't want you to. You seemed like you needed the quiet." His gaze shifted to her, warm and gentle.
She nodded, her eyes drifting back to the horizon.
Hunter's expression softened, and he turned his eyes back to the waves. "I know this has been… overwhelming. I didn't want to rush you."
Della glanced at him, finding his profile softened under the glow of the moon. "You haven't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I want to take my time getting to know you again. We've been apart for so long, and I don't want to rush through it."
"It's strange," she admitted, her voice catching. "Being here, with you… it feels different."
Hunter shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing hers. The touch was brief, but it sent a warm shiver down her spine. "It doesn't have to be anything more than what you want it to be," he said, his voice low. "But… if you ever want more, if you ever want to know how good it can be between us again, all you have to do is say the word."
Della felt her breath catch in her throat. There was no pressure in his tone, no demand—just an invitation, an open door. She didn't know what to say, so she simply looked out at the sea, the sound of the waves filling the space between them.
Eventually, Hunter rose to his feet, brushing sand off his trousers. He offered her a small, easy smile. "I'll head back. I'm going to grab a snack and call it a night."
Della felt a pang of disappointment, a reluctance to let him leave. She liked having him near, the quiet comfort of his presence. "Where are you going?"
"To the kitchen," he said with a shrug. "Might grab something quick before bed."
She hesitated, then pushed herself up, brushing sand from her hoodie. "If you'll help me up, I'll go back to the house with you. I mean… I'd love a good night meal."
Hunter's smile widened, a genuine warmth lighting up his eyes. He extended a hand, and as she took it, she felt the firmness of his grip, the heat of his skin. "Sure. There's hardly anything my butler can't make."
As they stepped back into the house, Hunter guided Della to a private dining room she hadn't noticed before. It was smaller, more intimate than the dining she'd glimpsed earlier. The room had a timeless elegance, lit by a crystal chandelier whose soft, golden glow cast a warm sheen over everything. The long, dark wood table was set perfectly, each place adorned with polished silverware, delicate bone china, and crystal glasses that gleamed in the light. The atmosphere whispered of refinement and understated luxury.
Hunter pulled out a chair for her, and as she sat, she noticed the faint scent of fresh rosemary and garlic filling the air, intermingling with the salty scent still lingering on her skin from the beach. He took the seat beside her, close enough that his presence felt reassuringly near.
"Hungry?" he asked, his voice laced with warmth and amusement.
Della felt her stomach give a soft, involuntary rumble, and she laughed, a little sheepish. "I didn't realize I was until now."
He smiled, gesturing to the butler, who entered the room with the first course on a tray: an elegant display of smoked duck salad with fresh figs, sprigs of delicate watercress, and a drizzle of truffle vinaigrette that glistened under the chandelier. The plate was a piece of art, with colors so vibrant they seemed almost too beautiful to disturb.
"Smoked duck with fig," Hunter explained, catching her captivated expression as she took her first bite. The duck was rich and tender, the figs adding a subtle sweetness that paired perfectly with the truffle vinaigrette. She savored each mouthful, almost forgetting where she was.
"I'm guessing you approve?" he asked, watching her reaction with a slight smirk.
She nodded, swallowing. "I… I've never had anything like this before. It's incredible."
Hunter took a sip of wine, smiling, amusement in his eyes this was Emily's favorite meal and he was flabbergasted she couldn't remember .
They ate in silence for a moment, both savoring the flavors. The butler returned, clearing their plates just as the second course arrived: a small bowl of creamy seafood bisque, a swirl of saffron-infused cream pooling on top. The soup was warm and rich, each spoonful filled with flavors and a faint hint of herbs that lingered after each taste.
Della took a bite, her eyes closing as the warmth spread through her. "I could get used to this," she murmured, the words slipping out without thought.
Hunter's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You'd be welcome to."
The main course followed, and Della's breath caught when the butler set the plates before them. It was a succulent filet mignon, seared to a perfect medium rare, with a dollop of herb butter melting slowly over the top, giving the meat a glossy sheen. Roasted asparagus and a light sprinkling of shaved truffle adorned the side, along with a small serving of creamy mashed potatoes whipped to a soft, airy consistency. The scent was mouthwatering, a mixture of rich meat, herbs, and earthy truffle.
She hesitated, marveling at the beauty of the dish. Hunter, noticing her pause, smiled. "You don't have to be polite. It's meant to be enjoyed."
She laughed softly, picking up her fork and knife, slicing into the steak, which gave way with ease, revealing a rosy interior. She took her first bite, savoring the tenderness, the buttery richness, and the subtle touch of herbs. It was, she thought, the best thing she'd ever tasted.
As they ate, Hunter set his fork down, his gaze softening as he watched her. "You know, I've missed this," he said quietly. "Not just… sharing a meal, but the ease of being with you, Emily. It's like… rediscovering an old book and finding new meaning in every word."
Della looked up, her heart tightening at the gentleness in his voice. "I feel the same. It's… comforting, being here with you, Hunter."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone