Page 9 of Howl You Doin?
“Perhaps there should be.” He glares, and the image of me tackling him to the ground while choking him until his tongue lolls from his mouth comes to mind, along with a possible mugshot with me in prison wearing my favorite shirt. Not worth it. Gosh, he is such an ass.
“Listen O’Doyle Rules, I know this must be hard for you, but if you could just practice an ounce”—I hold up two fingers and squish—“or just a smidge of kindness and not bark at me like a dog, that would be spectacular.”
Connor O’Doyle
“Excuse me?Did you just quoteBilly Madison?” I blink, because I have surely heard her incorrectly. A scowl pulls across my features at how my tone inadvertently drops to that of a Londoner brat. “I have not evenbegunto bark at you, lady.”
But I could, and the urge towoofin her face strikes me.
“You heard what I said,” she sneers, her face darkening by the second as outrage consumes her features.
The pulsing throb at my temple increases and I groan, uncaring of what she thinks. The wretched female. I knew when I made my way to the cellar entrance that her smell would filter through the kitchen like mad, but I wasn’t expecting to run intoher. After my run through the forest, I only wanted to grab a quick bite to eat from the kitchen before calling it a night. Instead, I’m made to deal with this one.
“What are you doing walking around like this anyway?” her nose wrinkles, but her heartrate says something entirely different.
Her gaze lingers over my chest and pectorals, and a wave of want surges through me.
“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to elaborate on why you believe I should answer to you in any capacity,” I find myself saying, my tone dripping with condescension.
Its better if she hates me than look at me like that.
She crosses her arms over her chest and her gaze turns to lead.
“Both you and Mr. Tepesh left here without a word to anyone in the middle of the night. Allan is so pompous he hardly speaks to anyone and when he does, it isn’t nice,” she says, her face twisted into a snarl.
Nice?“I didn’t realize. I will be sure to addbeing nice, to Allan’s list of duties.”
Moonlight ripples across her face, shining on the dark brown of her hair that is swept up but falling in areas. She is more dressed down than I have ever seen her.
“That’s great, thanks. That will be so helpful,” she snaps, her eyes full of hate as she presses her lips into a flat line.
I’m taken aback by how red her face is and how mad she seems to be, but then her gaze drops to my chest, and she shiftsher attention away. In the next instant my back straightens as awareness of what we are doing comes over me. Why should I care what the devil she is up to in the dining room at two in the morning? It’smycastle—in part anyway.
“Take yourself off to bed,” I tell her, before turning away to head toward the north wing to sleep.
“My god, you are such a jerk! Do you know when Vlad will be back? I know he’s with Aubrey.”
The vehemence in her tone has me bristling and I round on her. Satisfaction fills me at how she instinctively steps back.
Gods, this female puts me on edge like no other. Normally I would never speak to any woman this way, but Whitley Whitt can get bent. All I wanted was to get home, go for a run, then hopefully sleep away the trauma that has been my last week.
Except her scent rises. It makes my cock twitch and annoyance spreads again. How can I go from hating to wanting her in the next breath? Her scent being unnatural is the only explanation.
“I suggest you concern yourself more with what goes on in the kitchen, chef, rather than the entire castle, as your job title dictates. If Vlad wanted you to know of his whereabouts, he would tell you.”
She gasps and fury colors her expression.
“You are the most pompous jackass I have ever met. Since you left, there have been nothing but issues, and Allan is so condescending it’s hard to have a conversation with the man. Not that you seem to be much better.”
“Thanks for the . . . report.”
My eyes harden when I realize she’s affecting me still, the smell of her rising along with the scent of cocoa. Tension pulls at my shoulders. So much for holding my nose as I walked through the kitchen. I bend and deftly place her food onto the droppedtray before lifting it and pushing it toward her. She holds it, and thankfully doesn’t toss it in my face.
“I’ll handle everything in the morning. But for now, I think the American saying is to make like a tree and bloody well fuck off.”
Her jaw unhinging gives me just enough energy to take my own advice and leave the room.
Blasted female. I bristle at the fact that she seems to crawl under my skin so easily.
