It took courage to live withherfamily, and cunning, and masterful avoidance and deception skills. But at home she knew all the variables and exactly what she had to deal with. This was different. This was the unknown. Her behavior now might affect the rest of her life. First impressions were important. She didn’t want to be labeled a coward here—if she would be staying. It was time to findthatout.
She stepped into the room, her head bowed respectfully. A movement to her left drew her eyes to a fellow in a chair, wiping sleep from his eyes. He quickly stood up and bowed to her, muttering, “M’lady.”
In a movement to her right, yet another man, this one middle-aged and dressed more formally like a butler, came around a corner on the east side of the suite.
He bowed, too, and offered a respectful “m’lady” before a third voice said commandingly, “Leave us.”
She got out of the way of the exodus, stepping farther into the room, closer to the alcove, and winced when she heard the door close behind her. She knew vaguely where Lord Wolfe had spoken from, somewhere in front of her, but without looking up, she saw only the foot of a bed in that direction.
Then a dog ran over to her and sniffed at her shoes. Her instinct was to crouch down to get acquainted, but that would reveal that she liked animals, and she didn’t want to reveal that much about herself yet. The dog stood almost three feet high and had a long snout and a short coat of brown-and-gray hair with light cream on the neck and underbelly. She couldn’t tell what breed it was, but she imagined that with a snout that long, it would sound like a wolf when it howled.
When the animal sat down beside her, she was bold enough to ask, “What is his name?”
“Wolf.”
“He’s not actually...?”
“No. I found him on the moors a few years back, still a pup, but half-dead from starvation. He thought he could chew on my leg. I liked his determination not to die so I brought him home and fed him.”
“Does he howl on the moors?”
“Not that I’ve noticed. So you heard that rumor?”
“Yes, but I paid it no heed.”
“Come here.”
She tensed. Well, there really was no help for this. And they’d just had a somewhat normal conversation. He might not be as cold and vengeful as she’d been expecting him to be. Maybe her brother had lied andhe’dbeen the one demanding the duels, while Lord Wolfe was just an innocent in Robert’s vendetta for some imagined slight. It was possible. She and the viscount might both be victims of Robert’s vicious nature.
She moved forward some more, but she was still hesitant to look at him. When she did, she would instantly know his nature. She was good at reading people, a side effect of not letting them read her. But she wasn’t seeing his feet in front of her and she’d be reaching the wall pretty soon!
Then she did see them, at the foot of the bed. One was under a sheet, and the other, a big bare foot, lay on top of the sheet. He was receiving her while he was in bed?! That was so inappropriate it boggled the mind. She was mortified and prayed her cheeks weren’t showing it.
She raised her eyes and took in his face and his whole body. Her red cheeks couldn’t be helped now. He sat propped up in bed against a dozen pillows, one leg entirely exposed! His whole chest was bare as well. The bedsheet was draped over his hips. She didn’t miss the leeches on his left thigh, which explained why his leg was uncovered.
She saw too much with that first glance so she kept her eyes on his face. She definitely wasn’t expecting this. He was more handsome than her brother, and she’d thought no one could overshadow Robert in looks. But this man did in a wild way. The bare shoulders, the upper chest matted with black hair, the thick neck and arms, were a study in stark masculinity. She’d never before seen this much bare male skin.
Did hehaveto be such a big, strapping specimen? Wasn’t she intimidated enough without having to worry about his size, too? She wouldn’t be able to outrun legs as long as his, and she definitely wouldn’t be able to get out of arms that strong. And why was a confrontation with him the only thing that came to mind at the sight of so much brawn and muscle? Because he really did look wild.
It was the hair, long, black, very, very unkempt. And the feral eyes. They were light brown with many golden flecks. Amber eyes—like those a wolf might have. She had to bite back a hysterical giggle. But who could blame her for being fanciful? Fraught by shredded nerves, fears, rumors of wolf men and curses, of course her imagination was going to run rampant.
“Brooke Whitworth?”
She banished the wolf from the bed and focused on the man. “Why aren’t you sure?”
“You don’t have warts.”
“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”
“Gabe alluded...”
“Did he? Shame on him. Does he often tease you like that?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
She smiled, but only to herself. “You must not mind if he still has his job.”
“Unfortunately, we’ve been friends since childhood, so he takes advantage of that.”
