by Emma Roman
Currently, her wolf very much wanted to be caught. Mustering her dignity, she faced him once more, then slid her mask off because it was hot and sweaty under the damn thing. “I’m not running, simply tired. I was excusing myself for the night. If you’ll notice, I said good evening.”
“I heard the good evening, and I heard the dismissal in your now-go-the-fuck-away tone.” She loved how he spoke to her. He didn’t temper his words because she was” female. “I also know what I see when a wolf is fleeing. You’re running. Are you running because of what I said out on the veranda?”
“No,” she said quite honestly. “It isn’t the first time I heard someone label me a fool or a charlatan. I could’ve preferred you use different terms, or taken a chance to get to know the matchmaker in question before you made such a claim. But no, Hugo, I’m not running from you.” A lie. “Because of what you said.” Not a lie.
She really sucked at this.
Hugo looked puzzled then with a light jerk of his head, he gestured to the hallway leading away from the foyer on his right. “Would you care to join me in the library?”
It was only her favorite place in the whole wide world, and he had to offer it of all the places in the plantation house.
“The party’s upstairs. You should spend some time with them. You’ve been away for a while.” She knew enough about his schedule of late, thanks to Christopher.
Another sudden smile lit the corners of his mouth. It sent weakness racing through her veins. Her tummy tightened and a tingle which started in her breasts went all the way down to her clit then up again. A sensual game of ping pong, amping her desire.
From a fucking smile? Not for the first time, she wanted to strangle her own wolf.
“I know where the party is, but you’re not there. And I would very much like a chance for a do over.”
“A do over?”
Closing the distance between them, Hugo offered his hand in a most gentlemanly fashion. “Hugo Ferrar, hound of Delta Crescent, at your service.”
Charmed in spite of herself, she said, “Lesley-Ann Saucier, matchmaker, PhD.” She set her free hand in his then curled her fingers against his palm.
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Enchanted.”
Holy crap, he wasn’t kidding. Arrested by the quiet intensity in his gaze, she felt like she was quivering inside her own skin.
“Miss Saucier, could I entice you to join me for a drink and a little quiet conversation in the library?”
At the moment, he could probably entice her to do just about anything. What she needed to say was no thank you and bid him a good night then get the hell out of there. Maybe a little distance and time, to help her get her wolf under control. She meant what she’d said to Rachel and Christopher—simply finding the scent markers wasn’t enough.
Instead, what she said was, “I’d be delighted.”
When he smiled, all of her reservations fled, leaving her with him—and his wolf—alone.
4
Hugo asked himself a dozen times what the hell was he doing. He guided Lesley-Anne down the hallway toward the double doors of the library. He still hadn’t discovered his answer when he paused then released her hand long enough to allow him to push open the doors. Inside was a plush room decorated in paintings, colorful rugs, comfortable chairs, sofas, and row upon row of mahogany bookshelves.
Serafina’s library would have been an envy among the pack except that she opened the doors always to everyone. It didn’t matter their station in the pack order, age, or circumstances, they were all welcome to step inside and borrow any book they might like or simply find a spot to read. Unsurprisingly, with a party in full swing, it was empty at the moment. Lesley-Anne preceded him inside then released a small sigh. He could almost taste the relaxation chasing away her anxiety. But it did nothing to lessen the sweetness of her scent.
When he finally caught up with her in the grand foyer, he hadn’t meant to cause her to trip on the stairs. Holding her in his arms, however, had sent a whole new set of emotions to run free through system. His wolf perked and his nostrils flared as he breathed in her scent. It was the most decadent heavenliness he’d ever experienced. And then she snapped at him, baring her teeth—verbally, anyway.
Dropping her had been his only choice in order to obey her demand. While one part of him wrestled with the less than gentlemanly behavior, the rest of him was highly amused at seeing her shock when he actually did precisely what she’d asked.
“I love this room,” she admitted as she led the way across to the sitting area. Hugo followed behind her slowly, after closing the doors and turning the lock. While the library was open to everyone in the pack, a locked door generally was a good warning to leave the occupants alone. Of course, if Serafina came looking, the lock was certainly not going to keep her out.
“It is a gorgeous room, though I can’t say I’m especially fond of books.”
She whirled in a rustle of dress. He loved the way it flared out. The gold inserts in the black skirt seemed to shimmer as though she was half in this world and half in another. Where the hell are these crazy thoughts coming from?
“How can you not like a book?”
Hugo shrugged. Instead of joining her, which was where his wolf wanted him right then, he went to the bar. If his wolf intended to drive him batcrap crazy tonight, he planned to be drunk for the duration. “Just not a big reader. I read in school, and I read the newspaper, and I’ll read a magazine, even. Just never seen much point books.” He’d never been captured by the stories in them, at least not the ones he’d read.
“That is such a pity.” She examined her damaged shoes then set them on a small table next to the sofa. “Books are our gateway. They open our eyes to experiences we can’t possibly ever have, or even dream of having.”
“Like what?” He hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted to start over. Yes, Serafina ordered him to fix the damage he done with his inadvertent insult. However, he wanted to know Lesley-Anne better. Pretending she hadn’t captivated him before he knew her name was a young man’s foolish error.
“The Civil War.” Since there was so much earnestness in her voice, he almost hated to snort.
“Why the hell would I want to experience that? What, a bunch of hotheads decided their way or the highway on both sides of the fence, which led to a war that slaughtered hundreds of thousands, if not millions. Didn’t really do much for the slaves at the time. Other than to say, oh, by the way, you’re free, but now we can just hate on you en masse as opposed to hate on you in specific. Here we are 150 years plus later, and despite all the so-called improvements race relations are still a tinder box.”
It came out far harsher than he’d intended. Racism had always been hot button issue for him. Whether it was species, as in wolf to human, or human to wolf, or to do with the color of one’s skin—Delta Crescent, like many of the packs, was filled with mixed bloods of all nationalities and ethnicities. He was German, Irish, African-American, and Spanish. And that was only on his mother’s side. On his father’s side, there was some Dutch, Norwegian, Canadian, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, some Native American. Not that he never done a full genealogical survey. He didn’t need to. He was Hugo, and his parents were who they were, and their parents were who they were. They all had been created through the lines of family.
“Don’t hold back. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Far from being put off by his snarl, she seemed intrigued. “Also, are you just going to hover at the bar or can I persuade you to make us some drinks?”
Belatedly, he glanced at the bar then over at her. “My apologies. I was going to offer you a drink, but I was more fascinated by the conversation. What would you like?”
“If we’re going to debate history, I think I should have a whiskey. If we’re going to talk about books, and experiences over time—fiction versus nonfiction for example—I think wine would be better. If you’re going to continue to snarl at me and
rail against about the injustices of the world, I should stick to water because I think you might need a therapist.”
His laugh burst through his aggravation. The nonchalant way she delivered the last part cracked him up. “We’re definitely getting the wine.”
Her sudden grin kindled a fresh wave of heat that settled along his shoulders and seemed to sweep downward over his body, as though all of his blood rushed south. He located a bottle of white wine, remembering what she said earlier out on the veranda. He held up the bottle for her inspection. At her shrug, he opened it and set the cork aside. After making a mental note of the name, so he could pay Serafina back for raiding her wine cabinet, he poured a glass. In the distance, he could hear the music from the ballroom, but it was faint, as were the sounds of the pack voices. They rose and fell, almost a dance in and of themselves. “I’ve missed this.”
“Pardon?”
He filled the glass for himself as well. Wine wasn’t his favorite, but he wanted to get to know her, which meant he wanted to understand why she made the choices she did. She was going to drink wine, and so would he. Something to be said for walking a mile in someone else’s shoes—or in his case a mile in someone else’s paws. “Being surrounded by pack, you tend to forget how much you enjoy hearing their voices, even if you don’t care about the conversation or don’t really want to talk to them.”
She stood by the sofa, swaying slightly as though to the music they could both hear from above. A part of him wanted to ask her to dance again, but he kept it to himself as he carried the wineglasses over.
“I’ve never been away from pack for very long, so to me it just sounds like home.” She accepted the glass with a smile of gratitude.
“It sounds like home to me, too. I forget how much you miss home when you’ve been away from it for so very long.” Locking gazes with her, he raised his glass. “You forget a lot of things.”
“How about we toast to welcome home, then?” She clinked her glass to his and he grinned.
“It sounds like a fine toast.” He gestured to the sofa, allowing her first choice of where to sit. Though her skin was a deep bronze, she had a suspicious pinkish cast, giving her a slightly rosier glow. He could attribute it to the lights, because that was what a gentleman should do. Hugo had never mistaken himself for a gentleman, however, and he enjoyed thinking that that blush was for him.
Dainty as a fairy, Lesley-Anne chose the large settee, so he took the seat opposite her. It allowed him an unblocked view of her face, as well as made him keep his hands to himself since she was out of reach.
His wolf was less than impressed with his choice and clawed at him. But it had been many years since Hugo’s wolf could drive him to do anything he didn’t want to do. He knew many who lived with their wolf right at the surface, as he did, and he knew them to be a passionate and tempestuous lot. Yet, for Hugo, having his wolf so close simply meant that he had to dominate the wolf every bit as much as he did those around him. Understanding his impulses, even enjoying them from time to time, did not excuse being driven by them to the point past reason and rationality.
“You’re scowling. Don’t you like the wine?”
As he hadn’t sample it yet, he took a drink in order to answer her question. Then he took another. “Not particularly, no.” He held it away a moment. It didn’t smell like vinegar. What the hell was in the wine?
“Try to swirl it a little on your tongue after you take a sip, then suck in a tiny bit of air. It might make it taste better.”
Weird. But he did what she suggested. Unfortunately, sucking a little bit of air simply increased the nastiness of it. With a grimace, he set the glass down. Her laughter pealed out, like the ringing of bells on a crisp Sunday morning. Brilliant and intoxicating.
“Going to guess the wine is not to your palate. I’m so sorry. Would you like me to get you something else?”
Hugo waved her back to her seat as he stood. “I’ll do it, and you may have the rest of my wine. In fact, you can have the whole bottle, if you like.” Because he was never drinking that crap again. He could walk a thousand miles in her paws and probably still not enjoy the taste of that. If she liked it, great, but he didn’t need to torture himself.
At the bar, he helped himself to a glass of bourbon. It was Kentucky mash, and it had a strong powerful scent that helped occlude the warmer notes of hers drifting around him. Better to let him think more clearly, particularly since he still had to repair the damage of his earlier insult.
When he returned to the sofa once more, she was still smiling, and it was like an airbag to the face. Stunning. “To new beginnings…” he suggested, extending his tumbler across the table. She leaned forward to clink her glass against his.
“To new beginnings, huh?”
“Absolutely. After all, we’ve just met and I know we are getting acquainted. So, this is our new beginning.” Would she let them off the hook for the comment on the veranda?
“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”
His relief at her acceptance cut away the tension ramping up his spine from the moment he realized who she was and what he’d said.
“Thank you.” And he meant it. Having her agree to a fresh start, not only let him off the hook, offered him a new opportunity. “If I haven’t mentioned it, I think your dress is stunning.”
She laughed again, only this time there was a hint of self-deprecation in it. “You don’t need to compliment my clothing. A fresh start doesn’t mean you need to suck up.”
“Not sucking up. I really do like the dress. It’s what I noticed when I first noticed you.” Deciding against flirtatious nonsense, he focused on honesty. “The color suits you. It’s a Valentine’s Day ball, and you’re wearing black and gold. You stood out like a queen amongst the crowd.”
“Don’t say that,” she muttered, embarrassment superseding all else in her scent. “The only queen in Delta Crescent is Serafina. She looked fantastic in that red dress.”
“I said like a queen, for one. For another, while I fully embrace Serafina’s beauty, as a matter of aesthetics, she’s never really done it for me.”
Across from him, Lesley-Ann’s jaw dropped and her mouth opened. “Did you really just say that the alpha of our pack doesn’t ‘do it for you’?”
Swirling his drink in his glass a moment, Hugo nodded. “A hundred percent sincere. Not even the inklings of attraction.” He took a long drink and let her chew on the thought for a moment.
It didn’t take her long. “I’m stunned.”
“Because I’m not attracted to the alpha?” Why the hell would that be surprising?
“She’s gorgeous. Have you seen her?”
“Many times. Known her for years. Yes, she’s a beautiful woman. Yes, she’s a powerful woman. Yes, she can kick my ass five ways from Sunday.” The last was not an exaggeration. He’d sparred with her enough to know just what a hell of a fighter she was. “While all of those together are an incredibly attractive package, she’s not for me.”
“I guess I’m gonna take a while to get used to that. All right, so my dress is what you noticed first.”
He nodded, more than happy to table the discussion about the alpha forever. “Absolutely. I caught sight of you from across the room. Couldn’t take my eyes off you. Every time I tried to get over to meet you, someone else came along to capture your attention.”
“You followed me…” Her tone didn’t reveal whether she enjoyed the concept or not, but the sum of the embarrassment in her scent faded to be replaced… He took a deep breath. Oh, yes he knew exactly what desire tasted like. Leaning back, he crossed one leg over the other and studied her. To new opportunities.
“Guilty. I followed you all the way through the party. Then you escaped outside, and there was my chance. I admit to being a tad concerned you might have run away, but no. I found you standing alone, looking at the stars, your dress shimmering in the moonlight.” Why the hell was he talking like a poet? As if in response, his wolf sneezed. Nose
itching, Hugo shook his head.
“That’s quite possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, if a bit goofy.” Great, now she thought he was goofy. “But I think I’ll stick with sweet. You really didn’t know who I was?”
“Hand to God, I am many things, Miss Saucier—”
“You can call me Lesley-Anne. Miss Saucier sounds so formal.”
“Formal is good when you’re trying to impress someone.” Enough of that. He wanted to strangle his wolf. The animal rolled around inside of him rubbing against the inside of the skin like a puppy ready to play. They were too old for this nonsense.
She seemed to appreciate the comment and grinned. “Well, consider me impressed, thus you have permission to use my given name.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am.” He really needed to change the subject, because they were venturing down the path he did not want to follow. Seduction was one thing, but he was more interested in seducing the body than her heart or the mind. Frankly, at this point he probably should skip the former, as he’d was under orders to repair the damage inflicted. Even worse, he wanted to repair her opinion of him more than he’d initially realized.
“You’re very welcome. Hugo.” It was like a zip tie, being locked around his soul and jerking him tight. He couldn’t even breathe for loving the way she said his name. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just fine, why?” It was a damn lie. He wasn’t okay. Not only was his wolf interested, but so was he, the man. When she said his name, it was like a siren call to a sailor on the storm-tossed seas. He knew there were rocks, he knew damn well the ship was going to crash, but there was no way he planned on stopping himself. He wanted to follow that song all the way home. “I just haven’t been in polite company for a while.”
Weak excuse, man. Weak excuse.
“I thought you were doing a lot of travel for Serafina. You go to all the other packs, see the country, and drive and, you know—isn’t that exciting?”