Page 26 of Howl You Doin?
Once I close the glass doors, she hisses between her teeth, “I am not wearing this.”
The challenge in her tone makes me raise my head. The wench will come to heel or so help me.
“You will wear the uniform just like everyone else, Miss Whitt.” I level a finger at the stone beneath our feet to punctuate my point.
“If that’s the case, then why are we out here arguing?” She arches a brow, and I glance behind her at the glass double doors.
Everyone inside is waiting with bated breath and watching us like a TV sports spectacle. For fuck’s sake. Okay, instead of dragging her away, I should have just treated her professionally like I would anyone else, but I can’t seem to ignore this petulant woman.
“Because you always have to argue.” How the brat can’t see she does just that is beyond me.
“Me?” she asks, indicating at herself.
“Yes, you. Just do as I ask, Miss Whitt,” I say, turning back toward the double balcony doors. “You are the only one who seems to have a problem with the new attire.”
“Are you kidding me right now? Do you even see the dress in front of you, or are you so thick that you’re deliberately trying to lie to yourself? I cannot wear this in public, Connor.”
Her nose wrinkles as she stares down at herself, and I fight to keep my gaze off her breasts, failing miserably.
My name on her lips does something to me.
My brows draw together, and I scowl as I turn and look at her. Deep chocolate-colored hair falls to her shoulder in waves, so soft-looking I have an overwhelming urge to claw my way into the alluring tresses, and her eyes are a melted caramel that I want to bathe in. My gaze dips lower and bountiful breasts come into sight, practically falling out of her corset. Shit, she needs a fichu—it would give her more coverage. The head chef costume is a bit formfitting, molding around her voluptuous hourglass curves perfectly. Gods, she is a temptress—a foul-mouthed brat of a temptress.
I’ve had this reaction to a human before, where Jekyll has needed to step in with one of his antidotes. Half-magic, half-science in their properties, I stopped asking what’s in the concoctions ages ago, but all of us are more than aware of the issues I have with my nose and the rare instances when a woman rubs me the wrong way. Usually, it’s because a scent is abhorrent to me, not one that makes me drool like a starving dog being dangled a treat.
“Calm your tits,” I blurt rudely, not truly thinking before I speak.
“What did you just say to me?” she asks as her lips part. Rage encompasses her features, and she rushes at me and smacks me in the shoulder.
“Stop that,” I bark at her. “Have some sense of decorum in front of other staff members.”
At least they can’thearwhat I’m saying, but they are surely watching her having a tantrum—with her employer, no less!
“God, you are such a dick,” she shouts, causing birds to fly from the trees in alarm.
“Calmeth thy titties,” I say with a snort, laughing at my own joke.
She makes a sound like a wounded bull and charges at me, and my eyes go wide. “Oh shit.”
I grab her arms as she swings them to attack me, then pin them above her head, pushing my weight into her and trapping her against the stone balcony.
“You need to just calm yourself.” I scowl down at her, willing her to obey for one moment in her fucking life as she wiggles and squirms.
“Let me go!”
“Calm down.” My voice is a rumble, coming from somewhere deep inside me, and the telltale yellow that indicates my beast is near the surface flashes in my mind. Whatever medicine Jekyll had me take has obviously done fuck all.
Her eyes fly wide as her heart clips in her chest, stuttering along with her breath. She gasps loudly and I stare at her askance, wondering if she’s attempting to trick me into letting her go.
“What is it?” I ask, not loosening my hold.
She starts to squirm anew, and I step back, my brows pinching in concern when she begins tapping at her chest. She wheezes, her face a deep red, and I realize what the problem is.
Shit.
“Fuck, I don’t have anything on me,” I blurt, patting my pockets for a knife that I know doesn’t exist.
I whirl her around, blocking her from seeing my claw, and slice through the ribbons holding her corset together, allowing her to breathe.
