Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (Hawke Family #1)(12)

He grins and sips his wine. “Yeah, I have three younger sisters and one younger brother.”

“And they know what you do for a living?”

Damn, there I go sounding like a judgmental bitch again.

He doesn’t take the bait, barely reacting to my snide comment. “Yes, they know, and so does my mother.”

I scowl at him. “And they are okay with it?”

Before he can answer, the waiter returns and asks if we’re ready to order. I scramble to open my menu and review it. Glancing up at Savage, I see he doesn’t even bother to open his. He must come here a lot.

“Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?” I ask the waiter.

“If you don’t mind, I would love to order for you,” Savage interjects. “I eat here all the time and I think I know what you might enjoy.”

I eye him skeptically for a moment before closing my menu and handing it to the waiter. Letting him make the decision for me feels like giving in to him somehow and I’ve already done that just by coming here tonight. Still, I have a feeling he may be right about knowing exactly what I want.

“Good, Michael, will both have the fra diavolo.”

“Very good, Mr. Hawke,” he says, retrieving Savage’s menu and backing away from the table.

I haven’t looked away from Savage once as I wait for an answer to my last question.

“My family understands that my business is just that, a business. I opened my first bar, Hawkeye’s Pub, after college, and now, eight years later, I have several bars, restaurants, and the club. The club seemed like a logical step a few years back, and I took it. I run it tight and I keep it legit. I don’t involve myself with my girls, and they know they will be gone immediately if I find out anything is going on behind the scenes.”

Doesn’t involve himself with the girls? Does that mean he doesn’t sleep with them? Was Nora right?

The question is on the tip of my tongue but, with some effort, I manage to bite it back. I really need to rein in the bitchiness tonight.

“Well, it certainly sounds like your run the club differently than most, but I still can’t imagine having a son, or a brother, running a strip club. You have to admit, it’s a little seedy.”

He smirks and leans back. “I guess you’re right. I just hope you can put aside what I do for a living and will make up your mind about what kind of man I am based on facts, not prejudices.”

Shit. That was a real chastisement. I must be acting like more of a bitch than I thought.

I drop my gaze to my wine glass momentarily before I look back at him, unwavering.

“I will be the first to admit that I may have misjudged you. After talking with Nora, I know you treat your employees well and everything you told me is true.”

A pleased grin spreads across his face. “And what did you find out when you researched me?”

I try to hide my surprise but sputter momentarily trying to answer him, “Uh, I…what makes you think I researched you?”

“Because I did the same thing, and you’re a reporter. Frankly, I would be disappointed if you hadn’t done some research on the scumbag your sister was shaking her ass and tits for.”





Laughter bubbles up and I cover my mouth with my hand. I watch Savage glance down at my chest and shift in his seat.

He’s uncomfortable. Good. It’s only fair he be in the same position I am.

“I’m sorry I said that,” I say, my face no doubt reddening in my embarrassment. “I did research you, but I couldn’t find very much information. You seem to keep a pretty low profile for someone in your business.”

He grins at my observation but offers no explanation for his mysterious ability to stay out of the papers.

I’ve never seen anything like it. There are articles about his father that mention Savage and his siblings when he was a child—crap, now I remember the sisters being referenced—including quite a few from the weeks following his father’s death in the ring. But, as an adult, other than mentions of the opening of his restaurants and the club and a few other business dealings, there was nada. It’s as if he disappeared from public view and intentionally stayed that way.

The need to dig and probe further has been eating away at me since I hit the dead end, but I don’t think it would be appropriate to do that here at dinner. Especially not when I’ve already insulted him many, many times in the few hours we’ve spent together.

Wait, did he say he did research on me?

“You researched me?”

He chuckles and picks up his wine glass, swirling the maroon liquid around and around. I can’t tear my eyes away from his strong hand and long fingers wrapped around the stem.

Fuck. Even his hands are orgasmically beautiful.

Flashes of him doing things—dirty, nasty, sinful things—with those hands race through my mind, and my clit throbs just imagining his touch. I cross my legs under the table, pressing my thighs together as tightly as I can in a vain attempt to ease my need. There’s no doubt in my mind I’m blushing, and Savage’s focus on my cleavage assures me I’m correct.

Arrogant prick knows he’s causing this and is getting off on it.

“Yes, I researched you. I like to know all I can about people who come storming into my office with murder in their eyes.”