Page 41 of Howl You Doin?
I growl and he watches with rapt fascination as my clawed hands flex and twitch, moments from lashing out at him. He always did enjoy it when I would have a strange reaction to some oddity, although most of the time it’s not this severe.
“Stay away for your own good because her perfume is driving me to madness,” I admit, sending up a prayer that for once someone does as I ask and listens.
“Oh, nice. Been a while since you’ve had a reaction to a perfume, eh?” He cocks his head, and his gaze passes over me.“A little tickle of wolfbane and you’re close to howling at the sky.”
I roll my eyes. “Like you would know.”
“I make it my business to know.” The gigantic arse knows nothing and none of them can understand, but that isn’t their fault. The type of monster I am always relies on control, and he is sorely testing it, which means it’s probably best I tell him.
I sigh heavily, willing my body to obey once more and retract my claws. My features turn to granite as I force them to change back, and finally pour myself a drink from the scotch decanter Frank stole and brought in here.
“You are so on edge, Connor. It’s really not like you.” His gray eyes look me over before a brow pops. “You’re usually Mr. Prim and Proper, all chill and professionalism, and fucking boring. It’s rare to see you out of your wits, even due to a perfume.”
“And you like to poke,” I bite back.
He lifts his shoulders, shrugging. “It’s so hard to stay amused in this place.”
“Could you be less of a fucker? Until I hear from Jekyll, stay away from her, or I will rip you apart.” Yellow streams from my vision as I stare at him with my wolven eyes, the monster in me letting him know I have staked my claim, and he better fucking listen. “Everyoneneeds to stay away from her.”
He chuckles, the sound odd to my ears. “Does she know that?”
“No,” I grumble, downing my drink and collapsing into one of the low-back leather chairs.
“You are right fucked, mate.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Chapter 14
Whitley Whitt
Truce beware.
“You should do a picnic.”
I breathe in deeply, enjoying the fresh flower scent coming from the garden outside the dining-room windows. After agreeing to have lunch with George, we’ve been sitting and talking about everything Frank Stein. Fine by me, since it keeps my mind off Connor. But a picnic?
I doubt Frank N. Stein is ready for a picnic. The last thing I need is him thinking I’m trying to trap him in marriage while he’s here.
“This isn’t a harlequin romance, George.”
“You don’t know that. You would be good for him, I think. I mean, have you seenBridgerton? We both know he could just buy you another castle.” His eyes brighten. “A better castle. Let it happen and I’ll come visit. Maybe this is the next bestCinderellastory.”
“George! I barely know him.”
“Or maybe you’re reallyBeauty and the Beast.” He wiggles his brows.
That’s kind of mean. Frank is just crazy tall, but still nice to look at.
“Hey, Frank Stein is very good looking. Even if he is really, really tall.”
“I wasn’t talking about him.” George winks and moves to get off his stool just as Connor opens the hallway door into the dining room, his face screwed up in a frown. Shit.
Dammit, the little old man saw him coming and has now abandoned me.
“Ciao, darling,” George says, the traitor obviously not wanting to get in the way so we can tangle, since he keeps pushing for it.
“What do you want, Connor?” I ask, my tone unamused as I start collecting George’s and my teacups from the small table.
