Page 15 of Book Boyfriends
“Wentworth.” Hissing, I inch backwards, hitting something hard.
Not something, butsomeone. I whirl, my hands raised in a defensive posture, the thud of my heart choking off my ability to speak.
Another man stands there. Similar to the one in my kitchen, he’s tall. But where chef burglar is lean with closely cropped blond hair, this man is broad-chested with thick chestnut hair and a suit that is straight out of a Jane Austen retelling.
“Dreadfully sorry,” he says in a buttery, smooth English accent.
“I…” Fear licks up my spine, and I lurch back.
I snap my fingers for Wentworth, but the lab ignores me and sits on his haunches in front of Kitchen Guy.
Worst guard dog.I peer around the room, looking for an exit. The Mr. Darcy look-a-like stands between me and the door.
“Lord James, you’re scaring her,” Kitchen Guy scolds warmly.
“Lord James?” I say, my breath ragged. Confusion and fear fight for purchase inside me.
He places his hand on his chest, indignation flashes in his green eyes. “I’m doing nothing of the sort, Mr. Baker.”
“You’re definitely scaring her.” Another low and growly voice filters into the room.
Spinning, I turn to find a beast of a man stalking toward me. His eyes are almost violet. A neat black beard accentuates his strong jawline. Something primal radiates from him, as if he’d put me over his shoulder and carry me away to have his way with me.
He sniffs the air, something wicked darkens his eyes. “I can smell it all over her. She’s like a scared rabbit.”
Oh god, is he going to eat me?!I lunge for the coffee table and grab the first thing I see. Lifting the remote control, I hold it in the air and swing it at them. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll?—”
The bearded man smirks. “Mute us to death.”
“What do you want with me? Who are you? Are there more of you? Are you going to hurt me?” Each question is breathless.
Hands raised, Kitchen Guy rounds the counter. “Georgia, we’re not going to hurt you.”
“How do you know my name?” I aim the remote at him as if it’s a loaded pistol.
“Because we were sent here for you.”
“What?”
Lord James clears his throat. “Perhaps introductions are in order. I’m Lord James Everly, First Duke of Chamberlin.” He gestures to Kitchen Guy. “This is Mr. Baker.”
“You can call me Owen,” he says, a slight twang in his accent.
“And you can call me, Alpha,” bearded guy says, leaning against the kitchen island.
“Nobody is calling you that, Lars,” Lord James says, one thick eyebrow curved up.
“Oh, he’s Mr. Baker and I’m Lars.”
“Lars? Owen? Lord James?” I drop the remote, my chest heaving and vision spotty. “But those are the names of my…” Head shaking, I take two steps and…
My eyes flutter open. An achy twinge pulses between my brows. I lay in my bed, my head propped on a pillow and Wentworth’sheavy body draped over my legs like a furry blanket. Sunlight breaks into the room through half-open blinds.
“How did I get here?” Groaning, I rub the center of my forehead.
The last thing I remember is being in my living room with three men, their gazes fixed on me. Then pitch black. Did I faint? Had I really tried to fend them off with a remote control?
Other than the dull throb in my head, I appear to be unhurt. Squinting, I lift my head to scan the room. There’s no sign of my uninvited guests. Not Mr. Kitchen, the Mr. Darcy doppelganger, or the sexy wolfman. Correction; Owen, Lord James, and Lars.
