The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(50)

Previous irritation with the man faded as his lips worked against hers. His hands caressed her neck and moved further down. She trembled against his touch as the warmth of his tongue singed her.

Too soon, Hunter pulled back. "What shall we tell Wilkins?"

"About Redding?" she whispered hoarsely, leaning shamelessly closer to him, craving the touch of his lips more than her next breath.

He kissed her softly, this time trailing his tongue along her lower lip before coaxing her head against his and wrapping his arms around her.

She moaned into his mouth.

He retreated and chuckled softly. "No, Red. About our marriage."





Chapter Twenty-two





Red—

So I irritate you? Is that it? At least I invoke some sort of strong emotion within you. Though I swear to you, by the end of the Season you will be begging for my kiss, longing for my touch, and if you are lucky, I may just give you exactly what your body burns for. And more. Now, you may shoot this letter out of anger; you may burn it out of pride. But tell me, what will you dream of when you close your eyes? That's what I thought. Sweet dreams, Little Red…

—Wolf





Her kiss ignited something long dead within him. It had always been that way with Gwen, absolutely explosive. As if they could not have a normal conversation without pulling out some sort of weapons, and when they were not fighting, they were flirting. Whether it be with their words or their actions. It was impossible to quit the woman.

Now he wasn't so sure he wanted to.

But marriage? It would be a cold day in Hades.

He'd tried that once. And failed miserably. Though he hadn't the heart to embarrass her in front of her family. He would simply allow her to cry off. No doubt she would have a fit when she heard the news, but her lips were so blasted tempting, and he had thought her dead.

So he'd kissed her.

And now, the look on her face, one of pure horror and not elation, made his decision all the more simple. After all, marriage was impossible for a man who'd lost the other half of his soul long ago.

"Marriage?" she repeated, taking a step back.

"But of course!" He laughed. "You agreed to it. I was here. I would know. By the by, you were also present. Wonder what you found so blasted distracting?" He brought his hand to her face and then trailed it down her neck, stopping just above her breasts.

She slapped it away. "I must think, and I cannot do that when you are…"

"Seducing you? Kissing you? Touching, begging, biting, tasting…"

"Breathing!" she yelled and pushed against him, but he held her firmly in his embrace.

"Never worry, my dear, all you need to do is cry off. It will not be so hard. Standing up to that giant of a duke will be good for you. Yes?"

"But…" Gwen chewed her lower lip. Blast, how he hated it when she did that. It made him want to kiss her more, and if he kissed her more he might just change his mind about marriage.

Sharing her bed every night was a temptation of gigantic proportions, and he was still a man. A broken one, at that.

"No." Gwen shook her head. "I cannot do it."

"My thoughts precisely. We cannot marry." Hunter should feel glad that she agreed with him, but instead felt nothing but emptiness. It was as if she had died all over again.

He released her and stumbled back, fighting with every ounce of strength he had left to look happy when inside he was slowly crumbling into dust.

He tried to smile again, but he felt it did not reach his eyes. He laughed mockingly at himself, cursed, and turned around. Where the devil was his mask when he needed it most?

"You misunderstand me, Hunter." Gwen took a step toward him and lightly touched his arm. "We must marry."

He looked down at her delicate fingers as if they burned a hole of desire straight through his jacket. "We cannot."

"It is the right thing to do. Be reasonable! You have kissed me quite soundly in front of our entire staff. Not to mention my sister and brother."

"A secret." His voice shook. "We could keep it a secret. Pay off the staff…"

"And lose your honor in the process?" Gwen tilted her head. "Besides, weren't you the one who said we had crossed so many lines already?" The minx brought her hand up to her dress and pulled the sleeve down.

What the devil was she doing?

She smirked. "We are attracted to one another, that much is true."

His eyes never left the exposed skin of her shoulder as it radiated promises of velvet smoothness and desire.

"And…" She reached to her other sleeve and tugged it down. "It will allow us to work more closely together. After all, your brother has risen from the dead, yet is still missing. You are being shot at, and for all we know, Redding is dead as well."

The woman had a point. Besides, if he married her, she would be under his watch, which also meant she would be under his care. She would want things. Things like children, and a happy home — his soul.

Yet he had nothing to offer her but his protection.

Perhaps that would be enough. It would have to be.

Gwen reached for him and placed her hands on his chest. "It is a brilliant idea."

He closed his eyes and moaned. "It is an attraction. Are you willing to base a marriage on that alone?" Even as he said it, he knew it was much more, but he wasn't willing to speak it aloud, lest his worst fears became realized. That he had fallen again, and this time, there was nothing to catch him but the cold, hard ground. Because in the end, he would not be enough. He would fail, and he hated to think of what would happen when he did.