by Shayla Black
Simon caressed her back, and she curled her knees up to her chest, almost afraid to believe in his comfort. “I understand how much her death must hurt.”
“Hurt? It b-broke something in me. I-I miss her s-so damn much.”
“I know. But Deirdre wanted you to live. She took you to parties because she wanted you to have fun, meet people. Connect. You’re not honoring her wishes.”
Felicia clenched her fists, fury pounding in time with the roar of her heart. “You never met my sister. Don’t presume to understand what she wanted or thought or believed. She’d want me to be happy above all.”
“And are you? Truly? Would you be happy married to a man who couldn’t be himself with you, who hid his feelings because he feared losing you too much to pursue the relationship’s full potential? And you, refusing to love him but keeping his house and bearing his children—would that really be happily ever after? What would Deirdre have said about that?”
That it was pathetic. Cowardly. Felicia shuddered, burying her tearful face in her hands. “Have you ever had your heart ripped out and—”
“No. But neither have you. You’ve let no man close enough, have you? What about Tristan? Why did that end?”
Wiping away tears, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Does it matter? We had little in common. He was a musician, played long hours. I hated the club scene.”
“That’s scenery. I’m not hearing a reason.”
At the time, it seemed they simply grew apart. But when had their relationship truly ended? He’d asked her to meet his parents, and she’d been uncomfortable. She’d stopped returning some of his calls, hoping he’d understand that she simply wasn’t ready for such a step. It hadn’t taken long for him to stop ringing her up at all.
“He wasn’t the one,” she defended.
“Neither was Mason, but you agreed to marry him because he was willing to take whatever scraps of affection you tossed his way. I’m betting Tristan wouldn’t. I bloody won’t.” He curled a hand around her neck. “Listen, I’m not Alexei. I’d never treat you that way.”
Hadn’t she just thought a few hours ago that he wasn’t at all like her sister’s tormenter? Yes. And in her head, she knew that Simon would never abandon her so cruelly. But even if he’d love her madly forever, giving him the power to hurt her terrified Felicia. “What if you grow tired of me someday and want to leave me? If I let myself love you …” She shook her head.
It would kill her.
“You’re not so weak that you can’t survive a broken heart. Even if you gave yourself completely to me and it didn’t ‘work out,’ would you choose Deirdre’s option? Really?”
God, he was right. In Deirdre’s shoes, she would have never let Alexei defeat her. “No.”
“Time would heal you. Completely. Humans fall in love more than once in a lifetime.”
“Humans? You say that like magickind is different.”
“It is. We are like wolves, in a sense. We mate for life. I knew you were my mate after our first kiss.”
“You mean, you knew then that you wanted … me?” She almost couldn’t wrap her head around the concept. “For life? For hundreds of years?”
He nodded. “I told you, when we mate, we lose all desire for others. We don’t fall out of love. While I was willing to sever the bond because you wished it, we rarely abandon our mates.”
“But Anka—”
“If Mathias hadn’t come between them, she would still be with Lucan happily, I have no doubt. Look at Tynan. After losing Auropha, he’s had no romantic feelings for another, and he never even formally took her as his mate. Believe me, I am, and always will be, yours.”
His declaration ripped the air from her lungs. Felicia closed her eyes. He meant what he said. And she shook. Felicia didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s heart. She was so afraid of her own.
“You can’t leave me, ever?”
He frowned. “Technically, I suppose it’s possible. As Bram said, mate bonds can be broken. But they rarely are. Me behaving like Alexei should never even enter your mind.”
So she had a man who would be faithful and love her for the rest of his life, guaranteed? Why wasn’t she giving in to all the new and warm feelings pouring through her chest? Why wasn’t she grabbing on to him and blurting everything in her heart, too? A part of her longed to. If he couldn’t hurt her … But she still hesitated. Giving in and giving her heart gave him terrifying power over her. She wasn’t ready for that.
Felicia squirmed in her seat. “I have to think about this.”
He stared out at the road, but she saw disappointment cross his strong features. “It’s a big change in a few days. Remember, this isn’t a game to me. You’re my mate. I want you as my wife.”
A million conflicting feelings coursed through her, and she sighed. Marrying Mason now wasn’t an option. She couldn’t hide behind him any longer. It wasn’t fair to him, and she was ashamed that she’d been willing to use him to find a semblance of a happy life, rather than having the courage to actually seek one. But marrying her fiancé’s brother? Yes, she was Simon’s magical mate, and it was binding in his world. But in hers … Could she take him as her husband, knowing he’d do everything possible to work his way completely into her heart?
“I’ll play my part for the cameras.”
He clenched his jaw, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. “But will you marry me?”
“I’ll … think about it.” Even that terrified her. Simon wouldn’t be content with anything less than everything.
“I won’t stop trying to convince you.”
A sudden smile crept across her mouth. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
He grinned at her, too. “You’re getting to know me.”
Neither said anything for a long moment. In the silence, Simon’s mobile phone rang. He answered immediately, turning on the speaker.
“Bram, what happened?”
“The women are all fine.”
Felicia breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know the other women well, but the thought of something happening to them, especially at Mathias’s hands, horrified her.
“Excellent,” Simon said.
“They’re at Kari’s pub,” Bram added. “Caden and Ice are with them. Lucan and Ronan are doing a bit of cleanup at the caves. I’ve transferred Rhea back to my dungeons so we can guard her there. I think there’s enough left to hold her comfortably while we rebuild the house. We’ll join up soon to determine our next steps.”
“And Tynan?”
Bram sighed. “Still no word.”
Simon tightened his hand on the wheel, and Felicia reached out to caress his shoulder. He was worried about his friend.
“Did you find Shock?”
“No. Unreliable bastard,” Bram groused.
After what Anka had told her and the other women before the attack, Felicia had to concur.
“What happened with Mathias?” she blurted.
“We found him, but the dodgy son of a bitch got away again. Teleported out when I cornered him. We killed our fair share of Anarki, at least. Lucan zapped Zain with a hell of a spell, but he crawled away like the slime he is. Frustrating night all the way around. I’ve advised the rest of the Council that Mathias is getting more brazen.”
Disappointment slashed through Felicia. The Doomsday Brethren weren’t her people, yet she was at the center of their fight. They’d done so much to protect her, make her feel welcome. Yes, she wanted Mathias stopped, not simply for her own sake, but theirs, as well.
“Let me guess. The Council doesn’t care,” Simon drawled.
“It doesn’t affect them and doesn’t make them lose face with magickind, so no. It’s our problem because we’ve failed to fulfill our assignment and kill him.”
Simon scoffed.
“Where are you taking Felicia?” Bram queried.
“London.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth.
“Will we see you
?”
“Perhaps. But you’ll definitely hear of us. When you reach Kari’s pub, have Sydney call me. I need to speak with her former boss. Holly is the perfect person to help me.”
“Holly?” Bram choked. “Everything you say will be printed and spread around and—”
“Precisely.”
“Have you gone barking mad?”
“No. I’m getting smart about Mathias.”
“If you say …” Confusion rang in Bram’s tones. “When you get settled, we’ll set up guard rotation around your location.”
Simon shrugged. “It may not be necessary, but it can’t hurt.”
They ended the call a few minutes later, and Simon and Felicia rode for long minutes in silence. Simon turned up the radio, something soft, romantic. He grabbed her hand.
At some point, she lay her head against his shoulder and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the soft purr of the engine and his nearness. She awoke to a dawning day on London’s outskirts, and the sounds of Simon speaking softly into his mobile.
“Thanks, Sydney. I’ll call her now.”
Then he rang off and dialed again.
Stretching, Felicia listened to Simon’s part of the conversation.
“Ms. Rossmont, this is Simon Northam, the Duke of—precisely. Holly, it is, then. I have information that may be of interest to you. I realize that your paper primarily handles paranormal related stories, and I’m sorry I haven’t one. But based on our mutual acquaintance with Sydney, I wondered if you’d be willing to handle a story for me?”
A pause later, a woman’s voice. Muffled. Felicia couldn’t hear the words, just the tone.
“Ah, so the scandal is still alive and brewing.” Another pause. “No, I agree. Three days isn’t enough time for a story like this to die. I wondered if you’d be willing to help me with something this afternoon. At the Dorchester. Say, four o’clock?”
The woman spoke again, and Felicia’s mind raced. Something? The woman worked for a newspaper. Certainly, Simon didn’t plan a press conference. Enduring flashing bulbs and barked questions, pretending happiness for the public … the thought made her ill.
She grabbed his arm. “Simon, I don’t think—”
He held up a hand to stop her protest, and instead spoke into the mobile. “Splendid. I’ll make it worth your while.”
More silence barely punctuated with a pushy woman’s tones.
“An exclusive? Hmm. Under certain conditions.”
He listened to her again, a smile slowly creeping across his face. Felicia realized that Simon was playing Holly, getting exactly what he wanted. He knew this game well.
“I’m not certain …” he drawled.
The woman on the other end spoke loudly and rapidly. Vociferously. Simon smiled wider.
“Well, if those are your terms, then yes. You can run everything tonight by seven p.m., exclusively, for forty-eight hours. That’s my offer.”
What was everything?
Silence reigned on the other end for a long moment before she replied. Felicia wished she could hear Holly’s words.
“Excellent,” Simon finally said. “Glad we could come to an agreement. I’ll see you later, then.”
With that, he rang off and pocketed his phone, looking very pleased. “We have a lot to do before then.”
Such as? “Sleep?”
He laughed. “No, Sunshine. We must get ready to put on a show. This is something I know all about. Trust me.”
Felicia drew in a deep breath. Trust him. Did she? To keep her safe, yes. Without reservation. But could she do it enough to let go of her fear and build a life with him?
CHAPTER 13
LESS THAN AN HOUR later, Duke drove into the snarl of London traffic, ready for breakfast, a soft bed, and a passionate interlude with his mate. He would have the first two. The last … Duke sighed. He must give Felicia time to acclimate and try to curb the caveman instincts magnified by the fever, but he couldn’t let her get too comfortable. He refused to repeat Mason’s mistake.
Especially given her story about Deirdre. Clearly, Felicia had loved her sister and Deirdre’s death was a wound that hadn’t healed. Beneath his mate’s cautious shell lay an emotional woman she did her damnedest to repress. He would never win her until he got past her defenses.
When he glanced her way, her face was shuttered again. That she’d closed up so quickly and thoroughly after surrendering so completely in his arms disturbed him.
Bloody hell.
He also had to remember that he’d known her for fewer than three days—not enough time for most humans to fall in love. He sought a passion and commitment she hadn’t given to Mason in six years. It sounded fucking hopeless.
But Duke wasn’t a quitter.
How could he help her get over the fear of heartbreak she’d developed following Deirdre’s suicide? Or was it more? Mason had been in her life before her sister’s death, and Felicia hadn’t fallen for him then. Nor had she fallen for her previous boyfriend, Tristan. Neither man had been right for her, true, but had something caused Felicia to turn inward even before Deirdre’s death? Her parents, most likely. They’d valued her for the wrong reasons and, he’d guess from her tale, emotionally neglected her for most of her life. Now, Felicia did her damnedest to maintain careful emotional distance so she couldn’t get hurt. How did he stop that cycle before he became victim number three?
Now wasn’t the time to ask her questions. She’d already opened up far more, he sensed, than usual. Though difficult, she’d trusted him enough to talk about Deirdre. It was a good first step. Next, he’d start learning her psyche and seducing her—for good.
As they approached Hyde Park, his mobile rang again. The name on the display surprised him.
“Who is it?” Felicia asked.
“My mother.” He grimaced. He hadn’t spoken to her since the night he’d carried Felicia away. Duke grimaced, imagining what his mother had to say.
He clicked the button to silence the ringer and let the call slide to voicemail.
Felicia shot him a sharp glance. “You’re avoiding her.”
“Of course. That’s a haranguing in the works.”
She laughed at him.
“What is so funny?” he demanded, secretly pleased to see her relaxed enough with him to smile.
“A grown man—a warrior wizard—running from his mother.” She giggled again.
“That should tell you just how frightening she can be.”
“She was always perfectly lovely to me. We never disagreed about anything whilst planning the wedding.”
“Hmm, that’s because you kept everything very traditional and acquiesced to her ‘suggestion’ that you marry at Lowechester Hall. Had you wanted a Goth wedding in an underground club in Soho, I daresay she would have reacted differently.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But you must face her someday.”
“Can I think on that for a bit?” he teased.
She swatted his arm playfully. “Your mother loves you.” Then she sobered up. “You can’t know how precious that is unless you’ve never had motherly affection.”
As he’d suspected. Had Felicia been protecting her heart since the day her wretched parents had adopted her? What would never being valued or loved for the person she was inside do to a little girl?
If they weren’t already dead, Duke would gladly throttle them with his own two hands.
“Does your mum … know about you?” Felicia asked.
“That I’m a wizard? No.” He sighed, familiar regret sliding through him. “How do I tell her that I’m not quite human?”
“So the magical thing is not hereditary?”
“It is. My ability came from my father’s side. He was at the end of his lifespan when he found my mother, so he died shortly after I turned six. The day he died, he said he had much to tell me, but he’d run out of time. I pieced it together eventually,” he said, navigating a crowded street and dodging pedestrians. “Mum knows I have some secret.
We aren’t as close as we once were, and I know my … friction with Mason troubles her. But she’s still caring and supportive. I do value that.”
“So you’ll ring her back?”
He smiled tightly. “All right. After we navigate the crowd.”
Felicia frowned, peering out the window. “What crowd?”
The sun shone brightly. Pedestrians bundled as they scurried to and fro, their breaths clouding the air, demonstrating how bitterly cold it was.
Finally, Duke turned the last corner and the Dorchester Hotel came into view … along with a horde of reporters and paparazzi.
“That crowd.”
She gasped, then turned to him in horror. “They’re here for us?”
“Indeed.” He brought the car to a stop under the low, flat portico in front of the swank hotel, grateful for the auto’s tinted windows. He extracted the keys from the ignition, then took her hand in his. Suddenly, a sea of flashing bulbs and shouting people surrounded the car.
“Remember, you must act as if we’re in love. Give these people the show they require to provide you a human shield.”
Felicia looked shell-shocked but nodded slowly. “Mathias would be an utter fool to reveal his magic to all these people or try some human means to remove them from his path.”
“Precisely. Let’s go.”
He opened the driver’s-side door and stood. Immediately, he was swarmed. He shouldered past several reporters with a “No comment,” and picked his way to the passenger door.
When he opened it, Felicia shrank back into her seat. “They’ll mob us.”
“They’ll take pictures and shout questions. Ignore them. It will make them work harder.” He grinned.
With a sigh, Felicia cautiously gave him her hand. He grabbed it, gratified by the small show of trust.
It didn’t take any mustering of effort on his part to drag her against his body and hold her tight, arm curled around her small waist. He let one hand wander low on her hip, just above the curve of her luscious backside. Predictably, flashbulbs flared all around.
“Are you dating your brother’s fiancée?” shouted one reporter.