British Black Sheep: A Hero Club Novel

by Lauren Smith

  “The second sip goes down smoother,” he assured her.

  He was right. The next sip went down smoothly. It still burned, but in a different way. Her body started to hum with the heat from the whiskey.

  “So…” She pointed at the wolf. “What’s the story behind that?”

  There had to be hundreds of mysteries in this old home, hidden in the paintings, dusty black and white photos nestled in old frames, artifacts that might be centuries old. She wanted to know the stories behind them all.

  Alec sipped his whiskey and walked over to examine the wolf in the tapestry. “Don’t tell Morgan I told you, but this tapestry used to give him nightmares. He was terrified of the wolf. He said that it used to come out of the fabric in his dreams. He would see these red eyes…” Alec reached out and touched the eyes, which she noticed did have some red thread mixed in with the black that made the beast’s eyes glow.

  “That would have given me nightmares too.” The more she stared at it the scarier it became. “It still might.”

  Alec chuckled. “I’ll be here to protect you.” He winked at her and for a second he seemed more like his playful younger brother. “Let’s see, what do I remember…?” He faced the wolf tapestry again. “My family received this tapestry from the noble Wolfe family. One of our ancestors in the eighteenth century married into the Wolfe family and became Viscountess Wolfe. The gift she sent home to us was this tapestry. It’s said that so long as Merryvale possesses it, the house is protected by the wolf’s magic.”

  “Magic?” Brie almost laughed but stopped herself when she saw Alec was completely serious.

  “What kind of magic, we don’t know. But for everything that dies within these walls, the lands grow something else,” Alec’s voice softened as he tilted his head. “The day after my grandfather died, the cherry trees blossomed. They had been dormant during the winter, but they exploded into bloom. A hundred trees all at once on Boxing Day, just after a heavy snowfall, and they stayed in bloom the rest of the winter. Every arborist nearby was astounded and none could explain it.”

  “Magic,” Brie echoed in wondrous understanding. Sometimes things happened in life that didn’t seem possible, yet they happened anyway. “So, this wolf protects Merryvale?”

  “According to the legends, he does it in honor of our ancestor who left the home she loved to marry a stranger. You see, my ancestor didn’t love Viscount Wolfe, nor he her, the marriage was one of necessity. But they came to love each other most passionately.”

  “Do you think I could write about that story in the book?”

  Alec was quiet for a long moment. “I suppose. But why? I thought it was a Christmas traditions book.”

  “It is, but I want to share the beauty of this place, the stories, the magic, it all matters. It’s all part of Merryvale.”

  “For book sales, naturally.” His words held a slight bite as he finished his scotch.

  “No,” she shook her head fiercely. “That doesn’t matter to me. It never has.” How could she explain to him the power of words, the power of stories? “I don’t write for money. I write because stories matter. Tales of human experience matter.”

  Alec’s sighed and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing things about Merryvale. Ever since they started filming that blasted Regency miniseries here, my parents have been dealing with overeager fans and other madness.”

  “I get it. You’re a bit protective. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She put a hand on his arm, and he tapped her glass.

  “Finish your drink.”

  “Why?” She raised a brow, smiling. “You want to get me drunk?”

  “No!” He chuckled. “I want you to drink it because that scotch is bloody expensive, and I’d hate to waste it.”

  “Oh.” She tipped the glass back and finished it, letting the burn of warm her whole body up.

  “But also because I want you relaxed.” He cupped her chin, gazing into her eyes in a way that made her dizzier than the alcohol ever could.

  “Just for the record, I haven’t really done this before.” She couldn’t look away as he took a step closer to her.

  “Done what?” Alec brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “Had a casual hookup.”

  “I’ve had a few in my day.” His admission filled her with mix of jealousy and curiosity.

  “Okay, so how do we do this? You’ll have to walk me through it.” She was almost rambling now, but God, she was nervous. They had already slept together but this was different. She had no plane crash adrenaline to deal with now and they were going into this situation with their eyes wide open, not like their first spontaneous hook up.

  Alec leaned in. “We do it however you like,” he whispered just before he kissed her. His lips explored her mouth. “We can take all night, or we can do it hard and fast…maybe even both. Whatever you desire.”

  “Slow is good.” Brie closed her eyes as he kissed her again. He wove his fingers through her hair and sighed as though it gave him pleasure. Alec’s mouth on hers told her how much he wanted her. She remembered how good it felt to be wanted, to be desired. He broke the kiss to nibble playfully at her bottom lip.

  “I want to strip you naked and fuck you on the bed,” he said in a low and deliciously dark tone.

  Brie trembled as she reached for the buttons of her top. “Okay…”

  “Allow me.” He took his time, his fingers slowly sliding the buttons through the slits. When he finished, he parted her nightshirt and his hands curled in the fabric of her collar. He gazed down at her exposed breasts.

  “Christ, you’re perfect.” He peeled the shirt off her and let it drop to the ground before he cupped one breast, filling his palm and rolling the nipple with this thumb. The passion she’d attributed to the adrenaline from the crash the previous night was still there. In fact, it was stronger than ever. Alec’s lips curved in an indulgent smile as he slid one hand between the waistband of her shorts and panties to cup her mound.

  “Oh, God.” She clutched his shoulders when he slid a finger inside her.

  “I’ve had so many fantasies of doing this to you, darling,” he said as he leaned in to kiss her neck.

  “Me too,” Brie was dazed with arousal and couldn’t resist teasing him. “I’ve had fantasies…like on the plane.”

  “What kind?” Alec’s lips whispered against her skin.

  “Before the crash I dreamed you bent me over in the airplane bathroom and touched me like you did just now.”

  He groaned and his hand down her shorts stilled for a moment. “You’re going to bloody kill me, you know that?”

  “Want to act it out?” Brie had never been like this, even with Preston, but something about Alec made her want to let her guard down. Maybe it was because he’d seen her at her weakest and most vulnerable because of the plane crash, but he still wanted her.

  “I would love that.” Alec flicked his tongue along the shell of her ear and a zing of pleasure went straight to her womb.

  “Tell me how it starts,” he said in that deep voice with that accent which made her instantly wet.

  “I was facing away from you.” She turned in his arms to face the bed. “And I put my hands on the counter when you put your finger inside me.”

  Alec moved behind her with his hand between her legs to thrust a finger into her waiting wetness. She gasped, clenching tight as sensations exploded through her.

  His other hand gripped her hip possessively. “Then what?”

  “You pulled my jeans down and took me from behind.”

  He groaned again, the sound half pleasure, half tortured. “Yes. I would definitely do that.” He put his hand on her back, pushing her down over the edge of the bed. Then he tugged her bottoms and panties down to her knees. Brie’s breasts rubbed against the bed comforter with delicious friction as she wiggled her bottom in invitation. He unzipped his jeans and she closed her eyes as his cock nudged at her entrance. This was the most exciti
ng thing she’d done in years.

  “You ready for me?” Alec asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  He thrust hard, filling her so fast she cried out. It was like last night, only better. She rubbed her face against the comforter and fisted her hands into the soft fabric. Alec rode her slow and hard, each movement bringing them closer to that singular powerful connection. As they moved together, their panting breaths and the creaking of the bed were the only sounds in the room.

  The climax came for her first, hitting her like an avalanche and softening into slow, echoing waves of pleasure. Alec came moments later, whispering her name in that husky voice of his. A flood of heat warmed her insides as he leaned over and kissed the back of her neck. He slowly pulled out of her and she immediately missed the feeling of him being connected to her.

  “Stay,” he said before he walked to the bathroom. He ran the water and returned with a warm washcloth to clean her. She blushed as she straightened and shimmied out of her panties and shorts and stood completely naked before him. His eyes gleamed with appreciation at her full nakedness.

  “You’re staying, right?” she asked hopefully, then regretted it because of the look on his face.

  “Do you want me to?” The hesitation in his voice hurt her but she understood. He needed to keep his distance from her. It made sense. The longer he stayed here, the more of a chance they would be discovered together. Some part of her wanted to take that chance, as risky was it was.

  “Please, it’s just nicer to…” God, she realized she must sound needy and pathetic right now. But it had been years since she’d really been with a man and after last night, she’d gotten addicted to the feeling of being safe in someone’s arms.

  He removed his sweater and then his pants. “I’ll stay.” He wore only a pair of boxers underneath. “This okay?” he asked.

  Brie nodded. She turned to her suitcase at the foot of the bed and hastily retrieved a fresh pair of panties and a T-shirt, then climbed in bed with him.

  “It’s strange to be sleeping in a different bedroom,” he chuckled.

  “I thought you didn’t come here often.” Brie said curiously. “You still have an assigned room?”

  “Assigned? No, I’ve had the same bedroom since childhood. It just happens to have eighteenth century bedroom furniture and tapestries.”

  “No racecar sheets for you, huh?” She snuggled up against him, unable to deny the urge to cuddle against him.

  “Racecar sheets? I wish I’d been born in America if that’s what boys got to have growing up.” Alec slid a hand under the sheets to stroke her thigh. It wasn’t meant to be sexual, but rather a comforting stroke that felt intimate in a different way. It was like he’d done it to her thousand times before.

  “I’m glad you were born here. I like you just the way you are. British and all.”

  “British and all?” His voice warmed her inside as she heard the laughter in his tone.

  “Trust me. American girls fantasize about men like you.”

  He watched her curiously, a faint smile on his lips. “And why is that?”

  “Partially the accent, of course. You can read a grocery list and it would make us swoon.”

  “Groceries eh? Let’s see, bananas, eggs, butter, fish and chips, biscuits, marmalade”

  “Stop!” Brie giggled, pretending to be aroused.

  “Pears, apples, bread, milk…” Alec murmured as he lowered his head to hers to steal a soft kiss. It burned with a sweetness that made her heart ache. Could a kiss unlock one’s heart and soul? Right now, it felt like it.

  She curled an arm around his neck, holding him to her as she kissed him back. It was so easy to get lost in him, yet she didn’t feel lost. She felt as if she was running toward something, something that would save her…or maybe break her.

  “Hmm… You do indeed swoon. I shall have to remember that and recite groceries more often.” Alec nuzzled her nose with his before pulling away. “Are you tired?”

  “A little. I just want to drift off to sleep while you’re here. You can still leave if you want, once I’m asleep.” She snuggled deeper against him, clutching him the way a child might their favorite stuffed animal, but she was deliciously exhausted and couldn’t find it in herself to care.

  “It’s alright, I don’t mind staying. I grew up in this house and know how to get around with the least amount of chances of being seen.

  “Do you mind if I keep the light on? I want to read for a bit.” He reached for the leather journal on the bedside table.

  “Only if you read to me.”

  “That I can do.” He opened the journal. “This was my grandfather’s. My father wanted me to read it.”

  “Are you okay with that? I know his death was hard for you.”

  Alec nodded. “It was, but the things in these pages… It’s like he’s here with me.”

  “Then introduce me. Let me hear his story.” Brie wanted to listen to Alec. It was part of the magic of Merryvale, this hunger for knowledge, to hear the stories of those who lived within these walls. Alec cleared his throat and began to read.

  “‘My father told me that to be the Earl of Merryvale I need to understand people, to know their hearts. I feel this means I must leave behind the comforts of this world here in England and see the greater world for what it is, not simply what I read about.

  “‘Now I stand beneath the African sun, feeling its hot rays beat down upon me as I visit Nairobi. Many young men my age go on safaris. They tour these lands with Maasai guides, but their goal is to end the lives of the beautiful creatures here.

  “‘To hunt, to kill, it gives them a sense of power. But the thought of it turns my stomach. Killing can be a necessity, but for sport alone it is an abomination. A person’s true power lies in what they can provide for other creatures. If one gives another creature’s life the respect it deserves and leaves it in its place in the tapestry of life, they soon learn the truth of life, and their own place within it.

  “‘I have met the Massai chief, Mingati, which means the ‘fast one.’ I was told this was a Maasai lion name, given to him after he killed a lion hunting in their village at night. It was an honor bestowed upon him, yet he was quick to point out that he only killed the lion to save his village, not for some non-existent claim to glory.

  “‘I walked with Mingati, and lived in his village, and shared food with his family, as well as the elders of his tribe. We drank fresh milk in gourds that Mingati called calabash. Above us, the stars numbered in the millions and shone so bright that it dazzled me. The stars back home seem muted thanks to the glow of our cities, but not here… Everything here is pure. Africa is the cradle of life. The source.

  “‘The Maasai welcomed me and I in turn found a kinship with them. Their warriors stand tall and proud in bright red clothing. Intelligence and ferocity fill their eyes as they gaze upon the vast and dangerous land they call home. They have a deep sense of honor and love to laugh even as they carry their spears at the ready. They hold fast to their language and culture, believe in respecting the past, and do not fear keeping traditions. They face death in much the same way, with calm respect and bravery. Mingati has told me that tomorrow we will hunt poachers. The elephants on their lands have been targeted and it is up to them to stop the men who would kill for ivory. I can think of no greater duty than to stand by Mingati’s side and defend the wildlife that fill these African planes with splendor…’”

  Alec paused in reading and Brie stirred against him, sleepy but still awake.

  “He really hunted poachers?” she asked.

  “He did,” Alec confirmed. “When I was little, he used to show me a pair of spears in his office. I knew they were from Africa. I often wondered if they came from the tribe he stayed with.”

  “I bet they did.” Brie put a hand on Alec’s chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat beneath her fingers.

  “He used to sing odd songs to Morgan and me as children. We always thought they sounded like nonsen
se, but he told me they were songs he learned in Africa. I wish I’d listened to him. I wish I could remember the words more clearly. It’s a faded memory now.”

  “Do you remember anything about it?”

  “Only that he said the song was called The Rainmaker.”

  “The Rainmaker…” Brie echoed. She would do some research tomorrow. A lot tribal music was being recorded online now in an attempt to preserve local cultures around the world. There was a small chance she might be able to find it.

  “He loved Africa so much. He only ever stayed there the one time all those years ago, but it was in his blood.” Alec brushed his fingertips over the page. “He often quoted H. Rider Haggard’s Allan Quartermain novels to me. It looks like he has written some inside his journal here.”

  “What does it say?”

  “‘Truth I shall be dead. So it is with us all. How many millions have lain as I lie, and thought these thoughts and been forgotten! — Thousands upon thousands of years ago they thought them, those dying men of the dim past, and thousands on thousands of years hence will their descendants think them and be in their turn forgotten. As the breath of the oxen in winter, as the quick star that runs along the sky, as a little shadow that loses itself in sunset, as I once heard a Zulu called Ingrasi put it, such as the order of our life, the order that passeth away.’”

  “That’s beautiful,” Brie said. “How often do we neglect to make our lives have meaning beyond the here and now. Even if we go on to be forgotten, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t live.” She was silent a long moment. “I was married before…too young. I made mistakes and it was hard to move past them, to look to the future when there was still so much pain from the past.”

  “Would you tell me about him?” Alec asked. “Your ex-husband?”

  “You want to hear about him?” She didn’t think any man would ever want to hear about a woman’s ex.

  “Yes.” Alec brushed his fingertips along her jaw line, sending goosebumps down her arms.