Lovers’ Tussle
Being torn between a suave gentleman rogue and a dangerous unholy knave can turn any woman traitor.
Tienna Sterling is forced into a choice that is tearing her apart. Aiden James Marquis of Kendrick, the dapper gentleman cloaked in soft, dashing, pure-white fur, will steal her body and soul with sensual, sweet kisses and tender caresses. Roth Demount, the blackguard and beast, a compelling Alpha male beneath a lush gray feral coat, will force his will, demanding and conquering her passions in one fell swoop.
Gentle or dangerous? The choice should be simple, except tenderness soothes harshness. They contrast and complement each other like day and night. Or more like the demon and the saint. At first she intentionally pits them against each other until she realizes without one mate she is only half complete. She will have them both but the cost is high. She will uncover their secrets, defy convention, forsake her family, and eventually turn traitor.
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 43,905 words
LOVERS’ TUSSLE
India-Jean Louwe
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
LOVERS’ TUSSLE
Copyright © 2012 by India-Jean Louwe
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-570-0
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
With all my love to my wonderful husband. It’s true we don’t know what we’ve got until we lose it, but it’s also true that we don’t know what we’ve been missing until it arrives.
LOVERS’ TUSSLE
INDIA-JEAN LOUWE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1:
Provocation
Tienna Sterling, firstborn and sole cub to the royal bloodline of the ruling pack of the metropolis, looked every bit the devious little prankster that she was as she perched upon the sturdy branches of the great oak. From this vantage point she would be awarded a rare, spectacular view of the impending vicious battle, a battle that could easily lead to death. The very idea sent a shiver of excitement through her deceptively slender, fox-like frame, making the dry autumn leaves shudder in gentle urgency as though kissed by a breeze. No, a fight to the end did not distress her in the least. The gory end was just what she anticipated. After all, it was through her cunning machinations that this confrontation had come about in the first place.
Her tiny, pink tongue darted out to swipe across her vicious smile from corner to corner, savoring the tangible flavor of male prowess and surge of energy that could come only from the brute clash of canine aggression. Below, the two stalwart males eyed each other, unaware of their jesting audience, enraptured with the need to conquer, to tear the opponent apart limb by limb.
The great white wolf, while majestic in his snowy coat, was hardly camouflaged against the backdrop of the earthy, brown, crispy carpet of leaves. His magnificent muscles bunched as he hunched, ready to pounce. Penetrating blue eyes, overwhelming like the midnight sky with the flicker of star sprinkles, shadowed by the furrow of lush, thick fur, assessed his aggressor’s every move. His roar revealed a set of healthy, razor-sharp dentures within a jaw span wide enough to swallow Tienna whole. She trembled at the delicious thought.
The answer to the bellowed challenge came in an equally mighty growl, displaying pointed canines against firmly peeled-back lips. The gray-black wolf blended in perfectly with his surrounding, much too well. If he chose to stay still, you would miss him completely. But he moved now. Tendons rippled as he stretched his huge bulk, tensely alert yet liquid in sleek agility. His eyes, deep shades of hot, melting chocolate, oozed with malevolence, dispelling the illusion of sweet decadence at first glance. But Tienna was no fool. She noticed the tight snap of his jaw just as one great paw clawed the earth. He may appear devilishly disheveled, but he should not be underestimated.
Tienna’s eyes shot from one to the other, admiring the full lengths of their glossy fur, so thick she could sink her claws in. It was such a pity both would be covered in coppery blood soon enough, one with no further chance to lick his mortal wounds. The ground would cradle one of these mighty beasts within its loving arms of death before this night was over.
The great white was her gentleman, Aiden James Kendrick, Marquis to the human race and leader of his own elite pack. It had been easy enough to lure him with a coy wink and sly smile. She’d stood within the confines of a grand ballroom, provocatively clothed in frosty blue, cloaked in her human form, and issued her nonverbal invitation. For him it had been an intriguing offer he could not possibly pass up. His nostrils had flared, his interest plainly visible across a crowded hall, and she’d done the only thing she could. She’d beaten a hasty retreat. His eyes had speared through her, heating a torch of passion within her belly just before she’d felt the blast of rage at her cowardly disappearance. That had been last night. She knew full well the moon would be full and glorious this night. And he would likewise emulate its majesty.
The rougher-looking rapscallion, Roth Demount, noble in every w
ay but the bastard bedding on which he’d been conceived and leader of his own notorious band of cutthroats, had been a little more difficult to rein in. Beguiling him had not been the problem but locating him had. She’d scoured the lower parts of London, overcoming an unimaginable amount of lewd male attention and unwelcome propositions, female shrewdness, and lungs filled with the stench of sweat, grime, and sewage to last a lifetime before finally finding him in a disreputable tavern. Unaware of her scrutiny or the search she’d just undergone he had remained submerged in both ale and loose harlots, cavorting and dominating the scene as only an Alpha male could. As a man he had been nothing less than astounding, with bulky muscles straining beneath his tight-fitting breeches and forest-green coat. But she had leaned down provocatively, sipping from her tankard of beer while spilling her assets over her low bodice until his attention had been snared. A moment more and her entire breasts would have been the toast of the evening and fodder for bawdy melodies many nights to come. The singe of his fury had almost driven her to her knees as she ran out into the night and vanished like mist in the sun. But here he was, answering the challenge she had left hanging last night in the cigar-hazed, fume-intoxicated air.
There was no way either would have declined this blatant invitation. They knew as well as she that once they caught her scent, it would speak directly to their inner beasts. Her unique fragrance would tickle their nostrils and fill their lungs, claiming them, possessing. There was no way either would back down from this fight.
Pity. The thought made her pause only for a second. She had grown up on the dreams that had left her fevered until the break of many a dawn, her hair plastered in a heated sweat against her scalp, her body raging for completion. Their presence had haunted her from the day she had reached her maturity, and she had welcomed both with open arms and generous gratitude, even if it was restricted to steamy dreams, so easily scattered like the withered leaves in a whirlwind. Their presence had ignited her, filled her, completed her.
Through the long nights of the past three years, she had luxuriated in the knowledge that they would one day mend the bridge between them that had been demolished so long ago, put their differences aside, and physically claim her for their own. It was not to be. Father had made that abundantly clear. Tonight, no matter how well she had loved them as the men in her salacious visions, or as unfamiliar as they now stood below her in their wild hound forms, one of them would die. It was the only way. No. Pity was an emotion she could not afford. For she had been given two mates, and that was not acceptable.
* * * *
Roth eyed the fluffy monstrosity across from him. With fewer teeth, no growl, and less size, the wolf could easily pass for a damn bunny. How the devil was he going to dispose of this mass of delicacies? For goodness’ sake, he could never harm anything that resembled, even remotely, femininity or daintiness. The supposed white loveliness chose that moment to roar, stamping out his tender emotions and reservations. I damn well can put an end to that infernal blustering.
He had spent most of his life making sure their paths never crossed again. Yes. The wolf that now snarled before him was his brother, but blood mattered little when Debrett’s came into play. Perhaps in another lifetime he would have welcomed the chance for a proper duel in ascertaining just who should hold the proper rank and status between him and his brother, except in this present morbid lifetime the idea held no appeal for him. Had he not, one night a long, long time ago, made a life-altering decision? Yes. So despite the advantages a title may or may not hold with regards to securing this mate who had lured them here, it was too late to reconsider now.
The day his father had passed away, leaving his fortunes free of the death grip with which he’d selfishly clung to them, had opened for Roth doors of another variety. The trip around half the world had been made merely as a ruse and had returned him to a far different station in life, a different man, but one of his own choosing. No one had dared dispute the fact that a lifelong-protected young man had grown a slight bit bleached beneath the sweltering sun. No one questioned another man who had returned crispy brown from beneath inadequately sheltering masts of a sailing ship. Assuredly no one would ever question Roth Demount.
“I will kill for her, you know.” The voice cut into his head as clearly as though it had been spoken out loud. It hadn’t of course. They had developed the ability to communicate with each other even as children. They were siblings, and like it or not, the blood that flowed through their veins was the same.
The difference in wealth, status, and even physical appearance was no matter. “There’s no need for such dramatics.” Roth emitted a low snarl in warning as his brother moved closer. “Is she worth the bloodshed, brother?” He intentionally used the unfamiliar term for their connection shamelessly. Their show of aggression toward each other had been strictly for the benefit of society at large. It was best kept that way. Everyone believed them to be enemies. And while he strongly wished to claim this mate for himself, he did not wish it at the cost of his brother’s life.
Aiden moved closer, snapping his jaws in irritation. “How would you have us resolve this? Billiards?”
That didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. “Compromise.” He drew back a single step, clearly showing his wish not to fight.
Aiden ignored the gesture. “I scented her first. She belongs to me.”
“And I shall have her.” Roth mimicked the words that he knew would follow from his selfish brother. “Always you, you, you. Have you not had enough of overflowing coffers and respect, however coward it may be? I propose we think this through before acting.” Why had the woman chosen to lure them both here? And more importantly, why in their wolf forms? There were unanswered questions, and he would not proceed with uncertainties lingering in the air. The blood of his brother on his hands at least warranted some preliminary evaluation. It was just too bad Aiden was otherwise inclined. “Make another move, and I’ll snap your throat in half.”
Seeming to rethink the idea of a full frontal attack, Aiden shifted in a semicircle, threatening Roth’s unguarded left side. “The world would not miss a dead pauper. A marquis, however, shall be mourned with heavy breasts and tear-laden eyes.”
“Fool. Everyone shall be too busy scrambling around in finding ways to profess a sudden relation to you. Dead noblemen leave a lot behind, desired by humans more greedy and ferocious than both our animals combined.” Roth kept his eyes trained on his opponent as he sniffed the air tentatively. His smile would have been warmer had it not been displayed with jagged edges, nor if a sly plot did not instigate it.
“Enough. I wish to taste the flesh of my mate. You stand in my way.”
Roth veered agilely to the side at Aiden’s first attack. “You’ll have to be faster than that, young pup. Have the spoils of the good life softened your battle skills?” he taunted mercilessly. There would be a show of skill but only if absolutely necessary. In the meantime, toying and frolicking would pass the time sufficiently enough until Aiden made up his mind.
“You tease. Where is your reputed prowess now? All I see is the underbelly of disgusting yellow.” Aiden launched himself, flying gracefully through the air, and landed effortlessly in the spot that was now vacant.
“And all I see is a fancily coated ornament with nothing more valuable than stale air to occupy a rather large head.” He chuckled, fully allowing his brother to hear him. “Bear in mind, little brother, I have spent way more time roaming the wilds in this natural state than you have. What do you do when the hunger of the beast takes you? Seek the icebox for scraps of red meat like a damn pet mongrel? I hunt, brother. When was the last time you did?”
If wolves could color, or fluster for that matter, he was sure white would have looked horrible with crimson patches. But the blush of embarrassment would be far more preferable then the stain of blood. Thankfully, Aiden appeared to digest the information with some modicum of decorum, if he judged his hesitation accurately. He would have hated to drive the point
home in a more ruthless way. “Go home. Sleep off this spell she has cast upon you. We shall discuss this at first light, like men, as men.”
Aiden took a random swipe at his face, easy enough to avoid. “First light, Roth, no later or I shall begin sharpening my hunting skills with you as my target.”
Roth injected humor in his voice. “Gentleman’s honor.”
Aiden’s snort was impossible to miss and filled with disgust. “You are no gentleman.”
Roth watched cautiously as his brother stepped back and gave a final howl at the bright crescent in the dark sky before racing into the enveloping darkness. He turned his face to the luminous moon as well and bellowed his farewell howl. And then, standing absolutely motionless, he called out within his mind, hoping their interloper would hear him. “You can come down now.”
The startled yelp followed by a graceful descent showed that she’d heard him clearly. However, once on her four dainty paws, she showed no wish to continue the conversation with him. In one smooth move, she spun around and darted into the sheltering shadows, giving him a brief glance of a bushy brown tail, an underside of soft, flashing white.
He laughed. “I love a good chase. Be sure to make this an entertaining sport, will you?” He took off after her.
Silence greeted his mocking voice, but he needed no verbal help to know her path. His muzzle filled with her essence, pure, delightfully feminine. His paws pounded into the ground, but hardly at a dead sprint. Yes, he loved a good chase indeed. Let’s see how good you really are.
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