Hook's Pan by Marie Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

was the absurd wig Dustin Hoffman had worn in the movie? This man didn’t have a black mop of curls hanging around his head, a thick handle bar mustache pomaded to within an inch of its life, twisted at the ends into a funky curly-q. If he weren’t wearing the hook she’d have thought him just another actor.
     
    But his shirt was loose, and there was nothing tied to his wrist except for the leather straps holding his hook in place. The hook itself also looked more real and lifelike than the one Remy had worn. His had been dull looking, not gleaming like polished silver and glinting wicked in the low light.
     
    The room was full of the masculine, rich scent of wood and smoke and liquor. Everything screamed fine living, even the rug she was sprawled on. It almost appeared Turkish by design, but the feel of it was a whole ‘nother level of rich. The bold red and cream colored patterns were exquisitely soft to the touch.
     
    Betty had told her over and over it was real. Gerard had been handsomely stoic, looking at her as if she was too stupid to understand, because she didn’t come from a world where magic was real. In her world magic was an illusion, a show…elaborate sometimes, but never real.
     
    And if Trisha hadn’t fallen through a dizzying tunnel of stars, if she weren’t touching and seeing and hearing…maybe she could still convince herself this wasn’t real.
     
    But if it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck…
     
    So why was she here?
     
    That was really the only thing that mattered at this point. Why? The ramifications of what all this meant were more than she wanted to consider right now. The only thing she could focus on was that she needed to know why she was here, so she could go home. And maybe like Dorothy she’d wake up and think of this as just a nice dream.
     
    Decided, she cleared her throat and stood.
     
    James/Hook (Jeez, this was really weird) whipped around and glared at her. His silver dusted eyes narrowed into slits as they roamed slowly up, and then down the length of her body, causing her to shiver from the intensity of his gaze. Like she was the cream and he was the hungry cat.
     
    It was wicked, titillating…and there she went again thinking about everything like some cheesy romance heroine. Ugh, she’d read too many bodice rippers in her life.
     
    “So you must be Hook.”
     
    Bug spawn’s jaw unhinged and she stared at Trisha like she’d just sprouted a third eye.
     
    For his part, James’ lips twitched. Whether that meant he was amused or preparing another attack on her person, Trisha wasn’t sure.
     
    “Just like that, then? Is this really so easy? None of the others believed quite so quickly?” Danika asked, wings buzzing irritatingly behind her back.
     
    Trisha shrugged. “Well, either this is really happening or I’m going completely crazy. Either way, I figured just going with the flow might be the better part of valor.”
     
    “Ah, the Pan quotes Shakespeare. Perhaps you’re not quite the disappointment I’d led myself to believe,” James’ voice rumbled and for a second, Trisha’s knees knocked.
     
    She’d been in lust with Gerard’s voice the first moment she’d heard it, but that was nothing compared to the throaty British drawl dropping from Hook’s full, totally kissable looking lips. Especially when that drawl accompanied a smolder to make even Hugh Grant’s smexy bedroom eyes seem lackluster by comparison.
     
    Trisha straightened her spine; ignoring the fact that James was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in over a decade.
     
    “Too bad I can’t say the same for you.” She lifted a brow, praying that she sounded haughty and not breathless. She thought maybe she’d pulled it off, but she had to keep her hands tucked behind her butt because they were starting to shake.
     
    A giant, booming peal of laughter echoed through the chamber. “Hear, hear.” He snatched up his tumbler, downed the rest of the liquid, then