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At this, Lux’s warning echoed through my thoughts. This man was a predator in disguise. He was a wolf dressed like a savior. He’d told me so himself, and I had to remember that.
From the minute he and I had spoken, he’d made demands on my life. He’d assumed I would do whatever he asked. No—commanded.
Then, when he’d realized I wasn’t going to fall at his knees—like probably all the other women he met—he tried to block me from access to any other money.
No, this was just a manipulation. A power play. He wasn’t offering me a real job. Instead, he was trying to control me, in the guise of employment.
The sound of a car pulling up the drive caught my attention, and I tapped out a quick reply, eat rocks, before I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
My cell beeped in response but I didn’t look at it. Instead, I watched as a dark gray Bentley made its way up my drive, both dread and hope filling my chest. Horror quickly replaced it when I saw the splash of yellow on the collar of my dress.
Mother-effing-hell. I’d been a little overzealous with a fried egg omelet this morning.
I really shouldn’t eat. Like, ever. But especially before an important meeting.
Or, at least stick to pop tarts.
No, wait, they had jelly insides.
Bread and water.
I quickly ran back inside, knocking over a chair in the process, and grabbed a napkin. Wetting it, then scrubbing at it furiously while rushing back to the front door, texting Callie. Am leaving now. Wish me luck.
I didn’t expect her to reply—it was still early—but grinned at the immediate response, don’t screw this up.
As I was about to put my phone in my purse, it beeped again, and I sighed in exasperation, checking it.
I’ll eat something, alright.
A wolf loves to devour his prey.
My stomach lurched and a rush of heat pooled between my thighs. So. I wasn’t imagining it.
He was making a proposition.
My lips parted in an aroused exhale at the thought. Imagining what it would feel like, his lips on me… down there. Fuck me, I wanted to know what it would feel like to have a strong, powerful man like Rook want me like that. His next text quickly burst my excitement.
Answer me.
Grrr. I hated this jerk. All he wanted was control. I had to remember that.
Scowling, I turned my phone on ‘do not disturb’ and shoved it into my pocket. I stumbled out the door, tossing the napkin away just in time to greet the woman now walking towards me.
I forced a smile and offered my hand. "Good morning. Ms. Dubois?"
"Mrs. Olivia Dubois," she corrected and I squeezed her hand a little tighter than I should've, anxious.
"Olivia?"
"Mrs. Olivia Dubois,” she repeated herself, “You’re Summer Duvall?”
“Yes.”
Giving me a brisk, sharp shake, she turned my hand. Her lips pinched downward and I looked down, trying to figure out what she was frowning at.
Of course. I hadn’t managed to get all the dirt out from under my nails. And she was the stereotypical southern woman who thought women should be proper and respectable—not digging around in the garden.
She briskly dropped it, and her eyes landed on the egg stain on my dress.
