She gets close enough that the slight breeze coming through the open window wafts her floral scent—if a field of lavender were made of diamonds left to sparkle in the sun.
“Yes. I am a slow cooker, a Crock-Pot. I am not a microwave. You don’t cook a burger or a steak in the microwave.”
“Actually, I have. But I don’t recommend it.”
“This life you have, it’s in the microwave. You should slow down. Stop to smell the roses, the lilacs, the lavender.”
“Yes, please.” I gulp.
She lifts her eyebrows.
I internally slap myself to snap myself out of this trance. “So, Cateline Burger, how are we going to survive the next thirty days?”
“Berghier, it means shepherd.”
“Fitting.”
“We are going to survive by using what you said is your strength, endurance.”
“Sounds like a challenge. I’m up for it. We never got around to what I should call you.”
“My name is Cateline Berghier. You can call me Ms. Berghier.”
I’ll never be able to say her last name without making an embarrassing mess of it, so I change tack. “Ms.? I take it you’re single, then.”
“Mademoiselle Berghier,” she confirms.
My smolder escapes. “Since your name is Cateline, how about I call you Kitty Cat, or just Cat?”
Her arms cross in front of her chest. “What do you know about cats, Mr. Wolfe?”
“They don’t get along with dogs.”
“They also scratch.”
And with that, I’ve met my match. But this is far from over. No, it’s just beginning. A long beat passes as this realization sinks deep.
“Well, Cat, wolves bite.” I wink.
If she had a tail, she’d have flicked it, but she doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “You will find the guidebook for rules and expectations while here at Blancbourg on the table by your door.” At that, she sweeps from the room. I watch as she strides down the hallway, unable to ignore the sway of her hips. But she’s too serious and out of my league. A first for this wolf.
10
CATELINE
Had I waited long enough to see Connor’s face before I strode down the hall on the third floor, I’m afraid of what I would have seen.
Consternation?
Confusion?
Flame?
Fury?
I have a case of whiplash, and no doubt he does too. Never before has someone gotten under my skin so completely. Guys like him are all swagger and no substance. Gaston was like that. Only, I realized that when it was almost too late. I thought I knew him until he revealed his true motives—using me to get to the top while cavorting with other women. Yet, he tried to hold claim over me, to conquer me.
As for Connor, not only does he get under my skin, but he sets it on fire.
