Page 7 of A Wolf of War
“Ah, good choice,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Orchids are fascinating, you know. They’re one of the most ancient plants alive.”
“Are they?” she breathed, frozen in place as his scent washed over her. Mint and vanilla.
“Yeah.” He reached around her, his chest brushing against her arm as he plucked the flower from the plant, leaving a small piece of stem at the end. Willow’s pulse quickened as his hand grazed her skin. “They use mimicry to attract insects that pollinate them.”
“Oh?” Her voice was strained. She could feel theheat between her legs, a pulsing, insistent need that made her squeeze her thighs together.
“Yes.” His voice had dropped to a murmur as he slid the flower behind her ear, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. “They’re masters of deception.”
Willow’s breath caught in her throat. The world around them seemed to fade as she turned to face him, bringing them far too close to each other. There was nothing else anymore, only the intensity of his dark gaze.
“You’re not supposed to tear up the flowers,” she whispered, mesmerized by his gleaming eyes.
“I think you’ll find I’m allowed to do anything I want, Willow.”
The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if he had marked her, claimed her with just one word. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her to run, but her body refused to obey. The real question, however, was,How does he know my name?
“There you are!”
The spell was broken. Poppy’s voice jolted her back to reality, and she took a step back, reeling.
“Sorry about that, toots. I just felt like followingmy heart right to the pot plants. Turns out they don’t have any! Who’s the dude?”
Poppy’s eyes narrowed, noticing how close Willow and the stranger were still standing.
“Oh, he’s…” She realized she didn’t even know his name. But somehow, he knew hers.
“Milo! Nice to meet you,” the man said with a grin, offering a small wave.
“Well, Milo, are you coming with us to get ice cream? Because we’re getting ice cream.”
Willow’s stomach churned. She wanted nothing more than to escape, to forget this strange magnetism she felt toward him. It wasn’t unlike her sister to do something like this, ever outgoing and willing to make friends with anybody. But did it have to be this man in particular?
What the fuck is going on?
4
MILO
He couldn’t believe his luck. Not only was Willow open to his advances, but her sister was clearly equal parts reckless, trusting, and friendly. Normally, these traits would not be positive, but they worked to his advantage in this case.
They were standing in line for ice cream. He’d meant it when he said it sounded great. With all the scents and sounds, it would be nice to have something that flooded his senses for a little while; it would cut the noise.
It was their turn, and he listened carefully to Willow’s order, memorizing it. It was simple enough, just a scoop of peanut butter cup in a waffle cone. Her sister went for rum raisin, which he hadn’t even thought was still sold, and then it was his turn.
“I’ll just have vanilla, thanks.” He pulled out his wallet and handed over his card.
“Hey, wait, you don’t have to do that! I mean, you totally can. You just don’t have to.”
Willow rolled her eyes in response to her sister, slapping her arm. “I think what Poppy means to say is that we can pay for our own ice cream.”
“Oh, no, it’s not a problem. Don’t worry about it. Tell you what, you can get it next time, alright?”
The sisters shrugged it off and waited patiently fortheir order, Poppy engaging Milo in turbulent small talk, hands flying as she jumped from topic to topic. He did his best to follow along, but she flitted along at such a pace that even a wolf couldn’t keep up.
His thoughts were wandering, anyway. It was paramount that he secure Willow as soon as possible. With McGarvey making veiled threats…
If she were to fall into McGarvey’s hands, his own would run red with blood, innocent or otherwise. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
