The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(33)

"Tart."

Gwen lifted her hands in innocence. "Says the one who's going to be convincing her husband all night long…"

"Gwen!" Isabelle scolded. "You shouldn't speak of such things!"

"We are sisters."

"You are unmarried," Isabelle pointed out, which truly just made Gwen feel worse, but she didn't want her sister to know she had unintentionally hurt her feelings. So she merely shrugged and gave a saucy grin. "Just because your reputation is less than pristine does not make this type of talk appropriate."

"I've had worse," Gwen said without thinking, then quickly rose from her seat to leave.

"Wait." Isabelle grabbed her hand. "You still haven't talked about what happened when you were gone those many months."

If Isabelle only knew the sacrifices Gwen had made for the family, sacrifices that made it so she gave away pieces of herself, of her pride, until she had nothing left. "It was nothing, dear, just an innocent adventure. Let us retire so I may ready myself for dinner. Apparently I'll be dining at your house."

"Hunter will be pleased."

"Hunter is easily pleased."

Isabelle lifted an eyebrow toward Gwen. "Are you sure there isn't more between the two of you? After all, he is an honorable man, though he does have his secrets."

Gwen sighed and felt her shoulders slump. "We all do."





****





Dinner progressed nicely, mainly because Hunter was nowhere to be seen, so Gwen was able to calmly enjoy a meal where she didn't have to fight off his seductive stares or cutting remarks. Which on one hand was nice — she did so enjoy dining with her sister and Dominique.

But her eyes kept glancing to the chair where Hunter had been sitting that morning. Suddenly overheated, she fanned herself and took a long drink of wine. Whatever was coming over her? Perhaps she was getting ill.

Her mind flashed to Hunter's seductive grin from that morning, and then his gentle touch this afternoon. She shouldn't have felt his warm hand through her skirts at all, but she had.

He had touched her, softly, when she came to his defense.

"Dear, are you well?" Isabelle asked.

"Of course." Gwen took another soothing drink of wine and watched as Dominique made lustful glances toward his wife. Now she truly felt like the third wheel.

"I have returned!" a loud voice announced from the doorway.

Gwen turned to see Hunter, cravat undone, a sort of substance down the front of his shirt, and swaying on his feet.

"Lovely." Dominique ignored Hunter and took a sip of wine. "I was wondering when the prodigal was to return. Got in another scuffle, did you?"

"With my horse." Hunter nodded and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it. Was no one going to help him?

He hit the floor with a thump.

Dominique took another sip of wine and kissed his wife's hand. "Shall we retire, my love?"

Isabelle sighed and rose from her chair. They walked arm in arm, taking special care to step over Hunter as they made their way from the room.

Had they forgotten about her?

"Oh, Gwen." Isabelle turned. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry, I forgot you were even sitting there."

Gwen knew exactly what had come over her sister. A very tall, dark, brooding, handsome prince wanted to have his way with her. She'd forget others existed if it were her in that position, as well.

"Never mind. I'll just call for the carriage and return home."

Isabelle blushed and followed her husband up the stairs.

Ton families were rarely as blunt and familiar with one another. But most families hadn't been through what Gwen's had. So to see her sister giggle like a little girl as she went up the stairs with her husband didn't offend her. No, it just made her heart sad, for her sisters had found their matches.

And Gwen was alone with a drunk. The footmen had all but retired, and it was commonly known that Dominique only hired Russians, who were such independent sorts, it was a miracle they were around to help at all!

She grabbed her wine glass and walked over to Hunter, who had managed to fall asleep in a terribly uncomfortable position on the floor. His mouth was slightly ajar, leaving the perfect target for her attack.

First rule of spying. Never leave yourself exposed to the enemy. First rule of being the Wolf? Don't insult your partner repeatedly and expect her not to retaliate.

With a smirk, she poured a bit of wine down his front, only a section of it dribbling into his mouth. Red streaked down his chin. Curse the man, why the devil was he allowed to be so handsome when he was foxed?

He murmured something inaudible. She poured more wine.

His hand flew up and grabbed her arm. Quite fast for being so drunk.

"Having fun, my dear?" he purred into her ear, for he had pulled her down to the floor and nearly on his lap. His breath smelled nothing like whiskey. It was sweet, with a hint of wine and horse.

"Until you woke up, yes," she managed to grind out, even though his hand was burning through the skin on her neck.

"Wasn't sleeping," Hunter announced, nipping at her ear. "Saints alive, what do you wash your skin with? It smells…" He inhaled again, his fingers lightly brushing the sensitive skin beneath her ear.