Page 10 of To Love a Beast

However, the barks grew increasingly insistent. Apparently, her tree act wasn't as convincing as she'd hoped. Or perhaps she was too convincing, for the beast decided to fell her. He rammed his head into her ribcage and threw her backwards. Callista let out a startled yelp as she stumbled and landed on her backside. Eyes wide open now, she stared into the face of the massive beast who stood over her. Even her imagination could not have conjured a dog like this. On all fours, he towered over her, his fur the tawny gold of a lion, contrasting with the dark brown of his face and eyes.

He barked again, and she flinched, bringing up an arm to fend him off.

"Spartacus. Heel!"

The dog's countenance cleared as he turned toward the voice. A heartbeat later, he loped off the path and into the mesquite.

Callista scrambled to her feet, dusted off her rump, and turned in the direction the dog had gone. "Thank you, sir." She lifted her voice to be sure the man could hear her. She strained for a glimpse of him but saw nothing. "My name is—"

"I don't care what your name is. You're not welcome here." The harshness of the man's tone took her aback. "I want you off my property. Now!"

Callista fisted her hands. She had not come all this way to be bullied into leaving before she'd made it to the front door. "I have an appointment with Mr. Lightfoot."

"Mr. Lightfoot takes his orders from me, and I want you gone. End of discussion."

End of discussion? Not likely. This boorish excuse of a human being needed a lesson in manners.

Swallowing her mounting frustration, Callista called forth the conciliatory tone she used on the rare occasion she had to deal with a difficult client. "I'm sorry if there has been some miscommunication." She stepped off the path and began wending her way through the mesquite, hoping to have a civilized discussion face-to-face instead of yelling at one another across the vegetation. "I've been hired—"

"Stop right there!"

Did she detect a note of fear beneath the dominating anger? She took another step.

"Come any closer and I'll sic Spartacus on you."

She didn't believe him. He might be rude and overbearing, but he'd called off his dog earlier. Intuition told her he wasn't the type to harm an innocent woman. Scare her, yes. But not harm her.

Callista dared another step. "Please, sir. If you'll just listen to what I have to say. . ."

"I'm done listening. Be gone!"

Hurried footsteps echoed from within the brush, and a moment later Callista caught a glimpse of the back of a man clad in a reddish-brown greatcoat darting between the trees, a giant dog at his side.

He had fled from her. Interesting.

With the threat of the Mastiff no longer looming, renewed determination bolstered Callista's courage. She returned to the path and marched forward with purpose. The master of Manticore Manor would soon learn that she did not surrender so easily.

Why couldn't the woman just do as she was told? Everett bit back a growl as he spied the brunette stride down the path in the wrong direction. She'd be knocking on his front door in minutes. Cursed female. She might be incapable of doing as instructed, but his staff knew better than to defy his orders.

Everett reached the side of the house, braced his hand on the railing, and launched himself over the side and onto the wrap-around porch. He wrenched open the French doors of the parlor and ran inside.

"Lightfoot! Timens!" His boots pounded against the polished wood floors as he rushed into the front hall.

Timens, his dour-faced butler, met him in the entryway, his thin mustache twitching in disapproval. "You bellowed, sir?"

"Where's Lightfoot?"

"I'm here, Griff."

Everett spun to his right, the dratted patch he wore stealing his peripheral vision and making it frustratingly easy for his valet to sneak up on him. Shifting his position so he could see both of his staff at the same time, Everett gave his orders, ignoring the throbbing in his head that signaled the onset of a migraine.

"There's a woman about to knock on that door." He jabbed a pointed finger toward the offending portal. "She is not to be let in under any condition. Do I make myself clear?"

"A girl?" Timens's eyes widened, a rather amazing sight, seeing as how nothing in Everett's experience had ever shaken the man's unflappable demeanor.

Lightfoot crossed to the narrow window that flanked the door and inched the curtain back just enough to peek outside. "A girl," he confirmed. "And quite a lovely one at that."

Lovely ones were the most dangerous variety.