Page 4 of Wedding for My Werewolf

As soon as she said it, she realized it was stupid to lie—if she got the job she’d be living here. She’d just have to avoid him.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her, and she wondered if he could hear her rapid heartbeat. Werewolves were supposed to have enhanced senses.

“Well, welcome to town.” He didn’t push, but something in his expression told her he caught the lie. “I’m Eric Grayson.”

“Robin.” She offered nothing more, already backing away. “Thanks for the help.”

She turned and walked away, keeping her pace steady despite the urge to run. She could feel him watching her, raising the tiny hairs at the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned, and shecouldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment over the incident or something else entirely.

The rational part of her mind screamed to be wary of a werewolf sheriff who could expose her. But there was something in those golden eyes beyond authority – a hint of warmth. And that, more than anything else, left her unsettled.

Too unsettled to return to the inn, she decided, and pulled out the information about her appointment. Based on the directions Mr. Stonehaven had given her, the house wasn’t too far away and she made her way down along the river in that direction. This close to the river, she could see that it wasn’t entirely frozen. A strip of open water ran down the middle and something suddenly broke the surface. She blinked. Was that a tentacle?

She tugged her coat closer and hurriedly turned up the next street. The directions led her to a set of enormous wrought iron gates. Beyond them loomed a Victorian mansion, its weathered stone a testament to decades of harsh mountain winters. Turrets pierced the morning sky, and carved stone creatures peered down from every corner.Not spooky at all.

There was a keypad next to the gates, but they creaked open at her touch. She shivered but followed the winding path through an overgrown garden, fresh snow crunching beneath her feet. Up close, the mansion’s grandeur carried an air of neglect – paint peeling from shutters, ivy claiming entire walls.

The heavy brass door knocker fell with a thunderous clap, and then the door swung open to reveal a figure that made her breath catch. Grey, stone-like skin. Wings folded against broad shoulders. Sharp features that could have been carved from granite. A gargoyle.

“Ms. Halloway.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder. “You’re early.”

“I hope that’s all right. I prefer to be punctual.”

Thankfully, her voice came out remarkably composed.

“A rare quality these days. I’m Garrick Stonehaven. Come in. “

The foyer dwarfed her, the ceiling stretching up three stories. Dust motes danced in shafts of morning light.

“You can see why I need a housekeeper,” he said dryly. “The place has been neglected while I was away.”

She made a noncommittal noise as he led her to a study where books lined every wall. He sat down behind an enormous desk and gestured her to the chair in front of it. She perched on the edge of the chair, doing her best to keep her face calm.

“Your resume is…” He glanced at the paper. “Sparse.”

Her hands clenched in her lap. “I’ve been moving around a lot, but I’m a hard worker and I’ll do a good job.”

“I see. And you’re new in town?”

She managed a nod as penetrating dark eyes studied her face. “And before that?”

“I’d rather not discuss it.”

A long pause. Then, unexpectedly, a dry chuckle. “Refreshingly honest. Most people would invent a story.”

He set the resume aside. “The position is live-in. The hours may vary from day to day, but I’ll pay you overtime if you work for more than eight hours. One afternoon off a week, and mostweekends, although I may occasionally need you then. The west wing needs attention first – it’s been closed off for years.”

She blinked. “You’re offering me the job?”

“Unless you’d rather not discuss it.” His stone features cracked into what might have been a smile.

“When can I start?”

“Today if you’d like.” He rose, wings shifting. “Let me show you your quarters. You can move in this morning and start work after lunch. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

A job and a place to stay, all in one morning. Perhaps luck was finally on her side.

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