Page 26 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

At least, that’s what I always thought. As I’m rubbing my face over Julia’s pulse points, inhaling her scent, putting it over myself, I’m not so sure anymore.

I pull away from her wrist and turn to look at her. Julia’s eyes are glazed and her cheeks are flushed. She looks so beautiful, so desirable, I almost forget this is all pretend.

Almost.

“Is that all?” she asks and reality washes over me like a cold shower.

“Yes,” I answer, my voice lost in a growl.

Julia’s eyes widen at the sound of it and her eyes trail over my face, down my chest, and to my crotch, where a powerful erection strains my uniform pants.

“Sorry,” I mutter, my voice low.

“It’s okay. It’s only normal.”

But it’s not. I’m losing control. I exit the vehicle, glad to put some distance between us, even if it’s just for a few moments. I circle the car to open her door and she steps out. She still smells of arousal, but it’s fading and fast.

Good. I don’t think I could keep control of my wolf if she did. I offer my hand. After a moment's hesitation, she takes it. Her fingers are cool and small against my palm.

We walk toward the grand entrance, our hands clasped between us.

The manor staff do double takes as we pass, their whispered conversations following in our wake. Julia keeps her chin high, her stride purposeful. If I didn't know better, if I couldn't smell the anxiety beneath her perfume, I'd think she was completely at ease.

"Your reputation as the town's most eligible bachelor is taking a hit," she murmurs as we navigate the corridors. "The head gardener just looked at me like I've stolen the crown jewels."

"Let them talk," I reply, squeezing her hand gently. "It makes our story more believable."

We pass by the Grand Salon, where Silverine Draak is hosting a tea for the bridal party and family members.

“Julia!” Silverine calls as we pass in front of the doorway. Conversations pause as heads turn our way. “Please come in.”

Julia freezes and her small hand squeezes mine. Her heartbeat becomes faster, but she turns to the assembled people with a professional smile on her lips.

“Of course, Mrs. Draak.”

She lets go of my hand as we step inside. I scan the room automatically, noting exits and the positions of all occupants—years of law enforcement training die hard. The room is elegantly appointed, with sunlight streaming through bay windows and reflecting off silver tea services. The air is heavy with the scent of roses and jasmine from elaborate floral arrangements.

My gaze lands on a figure seated beside Silverine, and my blood runs cold.

What fresh Hell is this?

My mother, Meredith Wolfsbane, sits regally on a velvet settee, teacup poised at her lips, her silver-streaked dark hair swept into an elegant chignon. Her predatory gaze locks on me the moment we enter. She looks at me like I’m a rabbit in a trap. And like she’s a wolf ready for its meal.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

Julia feels me tense and glances up.

"What is it?"

"My mother," I mutter, just as Meredith rises to her feet with fluid grace.

"Adrian," she calls, her voice carrying across the room. "What a pleasant surprise."

There's nothing pleasant about the steel in her eyes as she approaches. She's dressed impeccably in a charcoal-gray suit that emphasizes her tall, willowy frame. At sixty-three, Meredith Wolfsbane still commands any room she enters, her alpha mate status evident in every measured step.

Julia's scent of anxiety becomes stronger at my side.

"Mother." I nod in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here."