Big Bad Wolf

by Linda Winstead Jones

  The pale and almost pretty Foster. The dark and harsh Wolf. Adele had said that the two of them together could fulfill any woman’s fantasy. Something for everyone, she said, but Wolf had never doubted that the charming Foster came closer to any woman’s dream than he ever had.

  Molly had claimed not to like Foster much, but was that the truth?

  “Actually,” Wolf said casually, “You could do me a tremendous favor.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Wolf studied Foster’s immaculately groomed blond hair, the even features, the bright blue eyes. Foster Williams was everything Wolf was not, everything a woman wanted in a man. “I want you to flirt with my wife.”

  Foster’s smile faded. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “I want you to flirt with Molly, and then I want to know how she responds.” And if she tells me about it.

  He was still certain that Molly wanted something from him, something she had not yet revealed. It wasn’t in him to trust any woman, but he would rest easier if he knew Molly would be faithful and honest.

  “Tonight,” he said. “At Phil’s. You’ll be there?”

  “Of course,” Foster said dully. “Aren’t I always?”

  What had he done? He didn’t love Molly, so why did he care if she was faithful? Why did the thought that she might respond to another man the way she responded to him make him more than a little crazy?

  Molly’s hold on him was too secure. Her appeal was growing instead of fading as it should, and he couldn’t allow it. When he had to remind himself again and again that this was no ordinary marriage, that she was no ordinary and devoted wife and he shouldn’t be expected to be an ordinary and devoted husband, then he knew he was losing control of the situation.

  Molly had done nothing to hint that she was or would ever be anything less than faithful, so why did he feel compelled to test her this way?

  Wolf eased his conscience by reasoning that he wanted to make certain any redheaded Trevelyans were his.

  * * *

  Molly clutched the lace shawl over her rising cleavage, hoping that just this once Wolf would allow her to keep herself covered for the evening. At first she thought he would, and then he whipped the lace shawl from her shoulders and handed it to Phil, leaving her standing there in another of the outrageous gowns, a sapphire blue creation that was cut low both front and back.

  By now she knew many of the regulars at Phil’s, and they recognized her as readily as they did Wolf. They didn’t stare at her so boldly as they once had, and she’d even heard that they called her Wolf’s red queen. She preferred that description to Wolf’s country girl, the title Adele had so ungraciously offered.

  Wolf was distracted tonight, not his usual self. He said he’d had a difficult day in his office, but he wouldn’t share any details with her, and he wouldn’t even consider spending the evening in their suite and forgoing another evening at Phil’s.

  She sat beside him as he gambled, winning as he did most every night. The money didn’t seem to mean anything to him, but the winning . . . Wolf loved to win. It didn’t seem to matter if it was a game of cards, or business, or a battle in their constant gentle war. Winning was everything to Wolf. It was a characteristic Molly didn’t quite understand.

  Adele came in not long after they’d arrived, dressed in black and wearing a broad brimmed hat that shadowed her features. She was unmistakable, though, in her bearing and her signature black. Adele walked along the wall, stood alone for a moment and watched the patrons who played and drank and laughed, and after a while she disappeared into the crowd.

  As long as she stayed away from Wolf, Molly didn’t care where the woman was or how she passed her evenings.

  Wolf was quickly bored tonight. He took his winnings and left the faro table, taking Molly’s arm as she stood.

  “Why don’t we just leave,” Molly suggested softly. “It seems you don’t feel well tonight.”

  He glanced down at her, and the spark in his eyes was cool, distant. “I feel fine. Why don’t you sit here and rest for a while, and I’ll search out another game.”

  “Rest from what?” Molly complained in a low voice as Wolf led her to the chairs against the wall. “Sitting and watching you gamble is hardly tiring.”

  “I’ll be back,” Wolf said shortly as Molly lowered herself into one of the comfortable chairs. She watched her husband walk away, watched as he disappeared into the crowd and the cloud of smoke.

  At times like this, Molly wondered if she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. No matter how fiercely Wolf believed it, marriage was not a business deal. It was a commitment, a pledge, a partnership of the highest order. It was a joining, of heart and soul and body, and there was nothing businesslike about it.

  At least, not to her. On occasion, Wolf made mention of the day when she would return to Vanora Point. She had known all along that was his intention, but she didn’t like to think about returning without Wolf. If only he would go back with her, conduct his business from the Trevelyan house and live a normal life.

  But to Wolf, this was a normal life.

  “I thought I should never catch you alone.”

  Molly glanced up and saw Foster easing himself into the chair next to hers. He seemed not quite as tipsy as usual. His smile was not so wide, and he didn’t wobble at all as he took his seat.

  “Wolf will be back soon,” she said. “He’s looking for another game.”

  “I can’t imagine why he continues to spend so much time here when he has you.” Foster locked those blue eyes on her. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered. “Fascinating. I wish there was some way you and I could spend more time together. Get to know one another better.”

  “Perhaps when Wolf returns the three of us can have a nice long talk,” Molly suggested, trying to ignore his improper comments and the nasty gleam in his eyes.

  “How wonderful it would have been if I had met you first.” He leaned close, too close. “If I had a woman like you, Molly, I’d never leave her sitting alone.”

  Molly searched the room quickly for Wolf. Foster made her nervous. Actually quite uncomfortable. “He’ll be back in a minute.”

  “I don’t think so. I saw him headed to one of the private rooms in the back.”

  “He wasn’t feeling well,” Molly confided. “I hope he’s not ill.”

  “Shall we go see?” Foster stood and offered his arm, but Molly rose without his assistance.

  “Where are these private rooms?”

  “Down the hallway, beyond the ladies’ salon.” Foster took her arm and led her through the crowd. Even when they were through the crush and approaching the hallway, he held her arm and leaned much too close.

  As they passed the ladies’ salon, they heard a low feminine laugh from one of the private rooms, and Foster stopped suddenly. “You wait here, while I look for your missing husband.”

  Molly breathed a sigh of relief as Foster moved away, and she leaned back against the wall and the fancy wallpaper that was shot with gold and blue. All she wanted was to go home. Not just back to the Waldorf, she realized, but back to Maine. She missed the woods, and her mother and her grandmother, and fresh air, and wildflowers. The only problem was, she wanted Wolf to go home with her, and she didn’t think he ever would.

  “No sign of him.” Foster reappeared to interrupt her thoughts. “I guess I was mistaken.”

  “Oh, well.” Molly tried to turn away, but Foster’s arms, placed beside her and effectively pinning her to the wall, stopped her.

  “It’s such a nice change to escape the noise and the smoke,” he whispered. “I know the smoke bothers you, Molly. I’ve seen you brush it away from your eyes at the end of a long evening. Why don’t we enjoy the peace and quiet for a while?”

  “I really should find Wolf —”

  “As a matter of fact, if you really want to escape this madness for a while I could secure us a room of our own.” Foster lowered his face, as if he planned to kiss her, and Mo
lly ducked down and under his arm. She wasn’t fast enough, though, and he snagged her arm before she could steal away.

  “Come on.” Foster tugged on her arm, hard, and pulled her body against his. “Don’t be a prude. Wolf and I have shared women before.”

  One hand held her arm tight, and the other brushed the flesh that rose above the low neckline of her gown.

  “Oh you have,” she said in a low voice, and she felt Foster relax. Just enough.

  Molly kicked his shin, pushed against his chest and turned as he fell. She saw just a glimpse of the surprise on his face before she went in search of her husband.

  Where was he? Why had he left her alone to fend off that drunken idiot? Of all evenings for Phil’s to be so crowded! The place was thick with gamblers and their ladies, curious onlookers, Phil’s own employees bearing trays of filled glasses. Smoke hung over the room, blurring her vision like fog as Molly looked for Wolf.

  He was taller than most, and she should have been able to see his head above the rest, unless he had found another game and was seated somewhere in this room.

  Her heart beat in panic. She’d never expected that Wolf’s own friend would attack her! Wolf would be furious, but she wouldn’t feel safe until she was with him, until she could lay her hand on his arm and beg him not to leave her alone in this place again.

  She walked past the tables, but Wolf could not be found. It took all her restraint not to lift her head and scream his name. Not that he would mind. He loved it when she made a scene.

  “Wolf’s red queen,” someone shouted coarsely, and before she knew what was happening someone at the faro table had grabbed her wrist and held tight. “I need a bit of luck myself right now,” a vaguely familiar man said with a smile. “Stand here while I win this hand.”

  “I . . . I can’t,” Molly said, yanking her hand from the man she recognized as one she’d won more than a thousand dollars from on the turn of a card.

  As she spun away she saw Wolf’s head, on the other side of the room and headed for the hallway where Foster had attacked her. It seemed everyone in the room was determined to get in her way as she headed back for that side of the room. She weaved her way through the crowd, slipping through with a gentle shove here and there, until she saw the entrance to the hallway.

  Wolf was just entering a room at the end of the hall, and Foster was, thankfully, absent.

  Molly took a deep breath and hurried down the hallway. Wolf would be furious, but she had to tell him what had happened. More than anything, she wanted him to hold her, and tell her that everything was going to be all right, and promise her that he wouldn’t ever leave her alone again.

  She heard the voices coming from the room long before she reached the door that Wolf had left ajar.

  “Darling, I thought you would never come.”

  That husky voice was unmistakable. Adele.

  “What do you want?” Wolf asked casually.

  There was a pause, a long pause, and Molly’s imagination ran wild. What were they doing? Should she burst in and stop whatever was happening?

  “I want to know why you married that . . . that girl.”

  She recognized Wolf’s low laugh, the one that held no real humor. “Jealous, darling?”

  Molly felt her knees go weak.

  “It’s time to see that the Trevelyan name doesn’t die with me. Molly’s going to give me children.”

  “I could have given you children.”

  Molly’s stomach turned.

  “You don’t have a maternal bone in your beautiful body, Adele,” Wolf said with a laugh.

  There was another long silence, and Molly clenched her fist and fell softly against the wall.

  “Don’t worry,” Wolf said casually. “As soon as she’s with child I’ll take her back to Vanora Point and leave her there. Then you and I can continue as we always have.”

  But she’d been married. Molly hugged herself tightly, trying to chase away the chill. It had never occurred to her that Wolf would sleep with another man’s wife. How could he? It was so . . . so wrong.

  If he would sleep with a married woman, he would never be faithful to her. Wolf had never made her promises he didn’t intend to keep, and he had certainly never promised to be faithful. He’d said it himself. She’d heard the horrid words from his own mouth.

  As soon as she was with child, he was going to ship her off to Maine and return to New York and Adele.

  She shouldn’t be crushed to find that a man who didn’t love her would betray her with another woman, but that was how it felt. As if Wolf was literally crushing her from the inside out.

  “I still say you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” Adele purred. “Really, Wolf.”

  “I must admit, Mrs. Sloane had something to do with this.”

  “Christine Sloane?”

  “There’s nothing more tenacious than a mother with five plain unmarried daughters. It had gotten to the point where I half expected to wake one morning, hung over from a spiked drink, to find that I was wed to the eldest and ugliest of the five.”

  Adele laughed. “I guess I have no choice but to forgive you.”

  “I guess you don’t.”

  “Wolf, darling, you didn’t even close the door.”

  Molly turned away, flinching as the door was slammed shut. She didn’t know if Wolf or Adele had swung the door so viciously, but it didn’t really matter.

  Had she ever really hoped that Wolf could love her? Molly didn’t stand in the hallway for long, but turned away from the private room her husband and Adele shared. She had. In spite of all his talk of businesslike marriages and corruption, she’d hoped for love. She’d even fooled herself into believing that she saw it in his eyes, on occasion.

  She made her way through the crowd again, headed for the front door. She slowed when she saw Foster collecting his hat from Phil, having no wish to come face to face with the man ever again.

  By the time she reached Phil, Foster was gone.

  “May I have my shawl, Phil?”

  He fetched it for her quickly, and looked over her shoulder with an anxious widening of his eyes. “And Mr. Trevelyan?”

  “He’ll be leaving later,” Molly said absently. “Much later.”

  “Let me see you into a carriage, Mrs. Trevelyan,” Phil offered.

  Molly held the shawl tight. It was a warm night, but she was chilled to the bone. “No. I think I’ll walk.”

  “You can’t —”

  Molly hurried out the door, unable to stand there and carry on a conversation with Phil or anyone else.

  Carriages lined the sidewalk, some private and some for hire. The drivers visited, their voices soft in an otherwise silent night.

  They turned their heads to look at her expectantly, and Molly turned away, headed in the direction of the hotel. It shouldn’t be a terribly long walk, and she needed to clear her mind.

  Wolf had never promised to be faithful, except in wedding vows he obviously didn’t take seriously. He’d never said he loved her, never even said that he liked her.

  All these nights she’d spent in his arms, she’d thought there was something there. Love, passion, need. And all he’d been thinking of was getting her with child so he could have his heir and go on with his life of debauchery.

  She shouldn’t be surprised, but she felt as if he’d reached into her chest and crushed her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, even though she willed them away.

  She crossed a street without even looking for approaching carriages. This wasn’t where she should turn, was it? The next street, or perhaps the next.

  Streetlamps cast circles of light on the sidewalk, but most of the neighborhood Molly walked through was in shadow. There was enough light to see that much of what she passed was dirty. Her nose told her it was no illusion.

  She missed the shadows of the forest, the green of the trees, and the clean smell of pine and an abundance of fresh air. She didn’t belong here, not on this street, or in this city. For
the first time she considered that marrying Wolf had been a mistake.

  It didn’t take her long to realize that she was lost.

  The dark street was suddenly ominous, more forbidding than the forest had ever been. And here, there was no magic. No Wolf.

  “Hello there, pretty lady.” Molly started, nearly jumped out of her skin, as a man stepped from the shadows and into the light. “Are you lost?”

  “Yes. No,” she said.

  The man was dressed in clothes that needed mending and washing, and his beard and hair were untended. When he grinned at her, she saw that he was missing a front tooth.

  “I’ll help you find your way home,” he offered. “But it’ll cost you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wolf left a pouting Adele behind, closing the door softly. His grin died as he stepped into the hallway, a reaction he hadn’t wanted Adele to see.

  The explanations had come naturally enough to his lips. He had married Molly with the intention of bedding her until his obsession had faded, and then leaving her in Maine to raise his children. He had reasoned that with a wife in Vanora Point, the Mrs. Sloanes of New York would have no more reason to harass him.

  And he had never intended to be a faithful husband. It had always seemed unnatural, the prospect of spending ones life with one woman. Hell, he’d actually laughed at men who’d allowed a slip of a woman to lead them around by the nose, and he’d sworn more than once that he’d never . . .

  Of course, Molly wasn’t exactly leading him around by his nose.

  But as Adele offered herself to him, Wolf realized that he didn’t want her. Not in the least. It was a turn of events neither he nor Adele had expected.

  Good God, all he wanted was to find Molly and get out of this place.

  She wasn’t sitting where he’d left her, and he searched the room for that familiar and striking head of hair. When he didn’t spot her immediately, as he should have, he looked for Foster’s pale head.

  His heart sank when he realized that neither of them were in the room, and his imagination ran wild. Were they occupying one of the private rooms like the one Adele had secured? Had they stepped outside, perhaps for what Molly had demurred would be no more than a kiss?