Page 43 of Howl You Doin?
“One hour truce it is.” A boyish light passes over his blue eyes, and I melt.
Shit.
Chapter 15
Connor O’Doyle
Out to lunch.
“So, what’s your favorite color?”I ask her, as she glances at me like I will bite her any moment.
The woman really doesn’t trust me and it’s oddly refreshing. I open a side door toward the front of the castle and wait for her to pass through before following after her into bright sunshine. The wind pulls at her tied-up caramel locks of hair, making the escaped strands shimmer and spark in the light.
“My favorite color?” She looks down at her watch and a smile spreads across her cheeks. “You have fifty minutes of truce left and you’re choosing to ask about my favorite color?”
“It’s the only way I could think of to not argue with you,” I tell her, the sight of the indentations on either side of her mouth rendering me speechless. “You have dimples.”
How did I not know she has dimples?
She lowers her amber-colored gaze to the ground as we walk.
“I only wanted to talk without us arguing for once, and I do owe you an explanation for the other night.”
“Go on,” she says, her tone frosty.
Most women are easily won, but not this one. Of course, I suppose I would be wary, too, given how much we have argued in the past. However, I find myself unable to remember why. Now that I know what is causing the issue, I seem to have a better hold on my control, and there’s a lightness in my step that hasn’t been there for months. If only my cock would get with the program and relax.
I am positive it’s only her perfume that made me react this way, which means it is manageable once Jekyll studies the perfume notes and finds a cure. I just can’t seem to be able to stay away from her, not since Frank’s arrival.
Water laps at the edge of the moat and the wind tears at her topknot, carrying her scent past me like a caress to my senses.
“I’m sorry that we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” I tell her honestly.
“Understatement.” She hides a scoff, trying to be on her best behavior, and I grin.
I think back to how I have treated her, how I humiliated her that night so long ago. I did tell her I wasn’t the one to shag her, only because I grew so jealous of how she was surrounded by men all vying for her attention. Now look at me, begging for her attention.
“I’m truly sorry, you know,” I blurt like an imbecile, and my face screws up into a wince when she looks back at me with surprise.
“For ruining my vibrator for me?” she asks, looking at me wryly.
I blanch at her words and bend over, coughing, choking on my own saliva as she walks past me. Godsdamn her. The word vibrator from her lips can bring me to my knees.
“You deserve that,” she snarks, and my brain goes haywire.
“How did I ruin it for you?” My voice is husky from the thought of her fucking a toy, riding it and thinking of... who the fuck does she think of?
Her cheeks turn pink, and a rosy scent rises from her skin.
“Never mind,” she says, trying to avoid the embarrassing conversation she started.
Her chin lifts and streaks of sunshine pass over her face as we walk under the trees. Birds flit overhead and a smile stretches across her kissable lips.
“Woman, you can’t tell any warm-blooded man that and then skirt the conversation. You called a truce. That should at least include my balls.” I adjust my painfully hard dick that has been at attention since I walked into the kitchen, but now aches.
Her black boots come to a stop as she turns on the path to look at me. “I hadn’t used it yet.”
“Oh.” I blink. “Congratulations on the new vibrator?”
