Read Online The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller - Free Book Online Page A

wolves would fall in line and bow down.”
    “Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
    Hayden left her side, and stormed into his office. The sound of drawers slamming closed caught her attention. She followed him, and stopped in the doorway when he jerked open a drawer so hard, it fell to the floor.
    “The council is so full of shit,” he mumbled.
    What council was he talking about? And what did they have to do with the painting?
    “My father painted the wolf, a really long time ago.” He dumped the contents of the drawer into a backpack leaning against the side of his desk. Then with a heavy sigh, he planted his hands on the desk and lifted his eyes to hers. “Things have changed—everything has changed since then.”
    “Your father painted that? Really? He was very talented. I had no idea.” She longed to touch it again. “Was it painted from life, do you think?”
    “Could you not show so much interest in the damned wolf? It’s not a good idea to ask so many questions, and it’s not making this”—he gestured between them—“any easier.”
    Was he talking about the article?
    He slung the backpack over his shoulder and charged past her toward the elevators. He moved like a force to be reckoned with, his hands clenched into fists, his boots thundering against the hardwood.
    He was strung tight, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with fury. Why had he gestured between them? Was it really the article that had him so upset? Was it the meeting he’d just had? A knot in Melina’s stomach warned it might’ve been about something more.
    “Hayden?” Nervous energy shot through her veins. “Make what any easier?’
    He dropped his bag, and turned back. And then he came at her with the same strength in his stride. She didn’t feel fear—far from it. She felt stalked, in the sexiest way. He exuded sexuality and control, a dizzying combination. She shuffled back, resting against the doorframe. He stood in the doorway across from her, his dark eyes burning like coals.
    Something about the way he glared reminded her of the wolf in the painting. His eyes were almost the same shape, color, and depth.
    She was silly to think it, but the thought wouldn’t leave her.
    He sighed, and then clenched his jaw tight. “Would it kill you to not be so—damn it, so…”
    “So…what?”
    “ Intense .” His nose twitched. He rubbed it, grimacing. “Can’t you go anywhere without wearing that perfume? You make every single room smell like you after you leave.”
    “I don’t wear perfume.” She pulled a strand of hair to her nose and sniffed. “It must be my shampoo. Is it bad?”
    “Far from it.” He groaned as if a giant burden rested on his shoulders, and his eyes churned with need. “It makes me want to eat you up.”
    A wave of desire rolled over her. She shuddered beneath the weight of his stare, hyperaware that his chest heaved as if he’d lost his breath. She was having trouble finding air, too. He stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. They couldn’t be any closer without meeting hip-to-hip. Wobbly on her legs, Melina leaned against the doorframe, looked up at him, and held her breath.
    Time froze.
    “Don’t move, Melina,” he said, and wrapped his strong hands around her neck.
    She jumped from his touch, and the fire it ignited in her middle.
    “Did you feel that?” he asked, his lips nearly brushing hers.
    She nodded, trembling, reaching up on tiptoe to capture his mouth.
    He sucked in a short breath as if he felt the spark too. He dragged her mouth to his in a seductive rush, ripping the air from her lungs and the floor from beneath her feet. It was a kiss of pleasure and shock, and as his lips parted, her stomach fell. She whimpered as she melted into him. He consumed the little mewing sounds, feasted on her mouth, and hauled her against him.
    She couldn’t detach from him, couldn’t catch her breath, and didn’t want to. Not ever again.
    With a moan, Hayden removed his mouth