Page 2 of Protected By Artemis
Yes, this kitchen had definitely been left behind—in the 80s.
The 1880s,she snickered to herself.
“Surely such minor menu changes are no problem for a professional like yourself?” she said.
The man’s nostrils flared. “No one invited you in here.” He stretched out an arm, gesturing toward the door. “Get. Out. Of. My. Kitchen.”
A squeak of indignation escaped her mouth. “How rude.”
“Rude?” His scowled deepened. “I’m not the one marching into someone else’s kitchen, demanding to change the free food they’ll be eating.”
Well, when he put it that way, it did sound rude. “I was trying to help,” she reasoned. “I just want everything to be perfect.”
Geri had practically begged her to help with today’s ceremony, after all, and Artemis would do anything for her.
“Are you saying I can’t do my job?” he groused. “I’ve been this pack’s chef for two decades. No one has complained about my cooking.”
“This isn’t just one meal,” she retorted. “This is the wedding of my brother and a prominent member of your clan. They deserve the best.”
“I am giving them the best.” His face turned purple. “Now, leave this kitchen or?—”
“Or what? Are you going to eat me?”
“Excuse me?” he roared. “You think that I would harm a woman? And that we shifterseatpeople? What kind of moronic?—”
“What the hell is going on in here?”
The low baritone from behind made every muscle in Artemis’s body tense, making her unable to move an inch.
“Someone answer me. Now.”
Slowly, she turned on her heel, her gaze locking with twin green orbs, the color of emeralds. A strange jolt shot through herat the eye contact with a dark-haired stranger, and she swore every single hair on her body rose up.
After living for millennia, Artemis had met many living beings—gods, men, and all creatures in between. She’d met with enemies on the battlefield, friends at the banquet table.
But no one had ever had this effect on her. Sure, he was good-looking. With his tousled dark locks, strong jaw, straight nose, and cut cheekbones, he could probably be a model, but that wasn’t why she couldn’t stop staring at him, nor why her throat was dry as a desert. There was just something about him…
“Well?” Despite his casual attire of jeans and red and black flannel, something about his demeanor charged the air around them. He stalked toward them with the litheness of a predator, an edge of danger around him.
A sexy, attractive predator.
“Alpha,” the chef greeted in a respectful, muted tone.
Alpha.
Ah, so this was Geri’s brother.
It was probably a bad idea to be drooling after him, right? After all, they would be related by marriage soon. Might make things awkward.
Artemis cleared her throat. “You must be Cade Anderson. I’m Artemis, Goddess?—”
“I know who you are.” The Alpha stopped about a foot away from her. While the chef was taller and burlier than him, there was no denying the sheer force of power emanating from this man.
Or the look of pure disdain on his face.
Something uncomfortable tugged at her gut. Composing herself, she said, “Great. That’ll save me the trouble of trying to explain why I’m right, and your chef is wrong.”
A dark brow rose up as Cade focused just over her head. “Hank?”