Page 34 of To Love a Beast

"Papa would like . . . that . . ." She frowned. "Something seems to have Spartacus quite upset." Callista strolled across the attic studio to one of the windows on the front side of the house.

The deep bass canine rumbles had grown louder and closer.

Everett moved into position beside her, his eye patch back in place. Her nerve endings started humming again at his nearness, worsening when his arm brushed against hers.

"Looks like a visitor."

Ordering her attention to extend beyond the man next to her, Callista searched the path and spotted a figure on a large horse approaching the house.

Everett turned away from the window. Afraid of being seen or a lack of interest in the visitor?

"Whoever it is, Timens will send him away." Everett crossed back to his paints and began cleaning his brushes.

"I mean no harm," a voice boomed from below. A voice that even when distorted through window glass set her teeth on edge. "But you should know that if your dog attacks when I dismount, I'll shoot him."

Callista gasped and dashed for the door.

"Callista, wait!"

She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"Let Timens handle it," Everett urged.

"You don't understand." She tugged open the studio door. "Ambrose Batton shoots animals for sport. Spartacus is in real danger."

Without giving Everett the chance to stop her, she ran down the stairs.

Chapter 16

Ambrose Batton? As in the man who'd been pressing his unwanted suit on Callista? The man they suspected of shooting Lightfoot? Everett charged down the stairs, envisioning another gunshot, only this time at close range. Bringing down the woman who had brought his heart back to life.

A roar built in his chest—her name—and begged for release. He clamped his jaw tight, imprisoning the impulse. He'd not embarrass her with overprotective possessiveness, even if that was precisely what pounded through his veins. He understood arrogant men. Shoot, he used to be one. They believed themselves invincible. Entitled to whatever they desired. They sought out weaknesses in their opponents and exploited them with no mercy. Everett donned a shield of icy disdain, determined to hide his weaknesses.

At least the ones that could be hidden.

If Batton was the kind of man Everett expected, he'd attack any available shortcomings, and Everett wore one of his biggest deficiencies on the outside for all to see. But today, his scars would serve as his screen, hiding his true weakness—Callista.

"Ah, Miss Rosenfeld. We meet again." Batton's overloud, unctuous greeting echoed through the entry hall, warning Everett that Callista had already made it past Timens. "You're looking quite fetching today."

"Spartacus. Heel."

Everett reached the first-floor landing and took a moment to steady his breathing and muster his composure. It helped that Callista had ignored the man completely and addressed herself not to Batton but to the dog.

Spartacus's barking mellowed, and Everett pictured the giant padding over to his newest friend and planting himself at her side. Everett planned to join him. He approached the entrance from behind the open door, taking a moment to size up the threat by peering through the crack between the door hinges.

"Please, miss," Timens urged in that fretful tone he used whenever things failed to follow the expected protocol. "Come back in the house." He left his post at the door and shuffled across the porch, arms outstretched toward Callista as if he could draw her back from where she stood at the base of the steps, mere feet from Batton's horse. "The master will not wish for you to be in harm's way."

"Harm's way?" Batton scoffed as he swung down from the saddle, strutted over to Callista, and propped a foot on the second stair, effectively blocking Timens's descent. He leaned forward and aimed a cocky grin her way. "Surely, you don't think I pose a threat." He spoke to Timens, but his gaze devoured Callista's face. "I hold Miss Rosenfeld in the highest esteem. In fact, I came here today to offer her my services."

Spartacus growled, obviously as distrustful of the man as the rest of them. Callista rubbed the dog's neck and hushed him, angling herself in front of the giant Mastiff as if she thought to protect him. Did she not understand that she was the one who needed protection? Her kind heart was going to get her into trouble.

"Mr. Batton." She spoke in a clipped, impatient tone that Everett had never heard from her before. "I believe I've made it quite clear during our previous encounters that I am not inclined to accept your offers. While I appreciate your kindness, I must decline."

"Decline?" He gave a forced laugh, but a muscle in his jaw ticked a warning of displeasure. "You haven't even heard what I'm offering yet."

Timens stiffened his posture and descended another step. "Please, sir. The lady has made her position clear. I must ask you to leave."

Batton speared the butler with a glare. "You ready to back up your inhospitable attitude with action, little man? Because you'll have to pick me up and plant me in the saddle to get me to leave before I've said my piece."