Luck of the Wolf

by Susan Krinard

  She had understood what the physical act involved, but what she had imagined bore no resemblance to the reality. It was as if she were finally whole. Babette had warned her that there might be pain, but she felt quite the opposite. She felt glorious.

  Cort shuddered as she began to move up and down, pulling away and then impaling herself again. Cort grasped her waist as if he were afraid she might stop.

  But Aria never wanted this to end. That feeling was building up in her again, that humming that would soon become a roar and send her flying into the heavens. She closed her eyes and flung back her head, waiting for the moment when Cort’s body would tell her that he was ready, too.

  Suddenly Cort moved, dragging her off, rolling her to her side and then to her back. They were apart only for a few seconds, and then he thrust into her.

  Aria was far past caring who was in charge now. She wrapped her legs around Cort’s waist and let him set the rhythm. When the moment came, she could no longer tell where he ended and she began. Cort stiffened, trembled and gasped. Aria felt his muscles relax as her body quivered, and she wept with joy.

  Cort kissed Aria’s damp forehead, her lips and her chin, sated and grateful beyond measure. She smiled dreamily, her eyelids heavy as she gazed at him with love.

  “Did you like it?” she murmured.

  He laughed in his chest and stroked a damp strand of golden hair away from her lips. “What do you think?”

  She grinned, stretched her arms high above her head and squeezed her thighs around his waist. “Do you want to do it again?”

  Cort’s body might have been tempted, but his mind had other ideas. There was no question this time of getting up or turning away from her as he had in the forest. He was no longer capable of such an act.

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his side, sighing deeply as she rested her head on his chest, entwined her leg with his and curled her arm around his shoulder.

  The situation he’d wanted to avoid had come to pass, and he couldn’t regret it. Aria had bound herself to him, and he to her. It was no longer a matter of simply presenting her to the Reniers, and forcing them to acknowledge him and pay him for her return. The prospect of hurting them further by revealing how he had taken her virginity was even more impossible to contemplate.

  He could see only one solution. He had a chance to make things right once and for all time. Even if he didn’t want to do it. But he did want it. That was the great irony. Aria had never made any real demands of him. He had given her shelter and clothing, and a chance to be with her family again, but he had taken far more. He wanted to give her something that couldn’t be bought.

  Not love. He’d told her the truth about Madeleine, and he had learned his lesson well. But he could surrender the purpose that had driven him when everything else had been lost.

  And he could give her affection, belonging, the things she most hungered for. It would not be so difficult. He could settle down and provide her with a decent life.

  If that was what she wanted.

  “What are you thinking about?” Aria asked, tracing a lazy spiral across his chest with her fingertip.

  Cort nuzzled her hair. “The future.”

  She went very still. “Whose future?”

  “Yours. And mine.”

  Her breath stirred the hair on his chest. “You mean…together?”

  “What else could I mean?”

  With a little squeal of joy, she leaped on top of him and showered his face with kisses. He tried to hold her off, but it was a losing battle. “Be calm, chère,” he said with a chuckle. He wrapped his arm around her waist, amazed to find that her weight on his body seemed to lift the burden from his heart.

  Could it be that he was happy? Could she, this innocent wanton, have done this to him so easily?

  No, not easily. Not easily at all.

  He pulled her closer, and kissed her lips and nose and forehead, then lifted her with both hands and tucked her against his side again. “What do you want, Aria?”

  Her eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe he’d had to ask the question. “I want to be with you forever!”

  How in God’s name had he ever come to deserve such selfless devotion? She didn’t even know what he really was, how much his determination to make her into a lady had to do with his own bitter transformation.

  “Do you know what that means, to be together?” he asked softly.

  She nodded with such force that her hair went flying. “Yes.”

  “It means…you won’t be going to the Reniers.”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  Only two words, but they were so earnest that Cort found it difficult to disbelieve them. Aria was willing to give up everything for him. Whether or not she’d once longed to be reunited with her family, she didn’t care anymore.

  Or so she said.

  “Listen to me,” he said, turning to rest on his elbow so he could see her face. “You would be wealthy, surrounded by family eager to give you everything you could ever want.”

  “But you wouldn’t be there.”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t care what they could give me.”

  “And what of their loss? Will you be at peace knowing they’ll go on believing you may have died eight years ago?”

  She squirmed, avoiding his eyes. He could see she felt badly about letting them think she had vanished forever. But she finally shook her head, slowly this time, and met his gaze.

  “They have lived without Lucienne this long,” she said. “They must have accepted that she is never coming back. How can they be hurt if they don’t know?”

  Cort stroked a lock of blond hair out of her face. They wouldn’t be hurt. Not by her or him. The New Orleans Reniers would never suffer the consequences of what they had done to him. What Madeleine had done.

  The vivid image of Madeleine Renier’s laughing face came back to him. Laughing at him as her brothers and cousins beat him to the ground. A worm who’d dared to look up at a butterfly. Payson, they’d called him. Peasant.

  A shudder of hatred ran through him, plunging his soul into a bath of acid. The happiness he had felt for so short a time dissolved. He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes.

  If he told Aria, would she understand? Would she forgive him for his deception, his plans to use her, his commitment to a vengeful cause that could never be hers? Could he forget so much of his life, or would his bitterness eventually overwhelm what he felt for her and she for him?

  If he never confronted the Reniers, could he live with his own self-contempt?

  “You’re unhappy,” Aria said, pulling his arm away from his face. “Why? Did I…do something wrong?”

  God. Would she always be afraid of his judgment every time he fell into a mood? She didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve her.

  “Non, chère,” he said. “Never. But…”

  “Tell me.”

  Her hair was like a shroud over his face, hiding the secrets he knew he wasn’t ready to share. He sank even further into his cruel memories.

  He couldn’t simply walk away from them. They had to be expunged, and there was only one way to do it. He could still get his revenge. Present Aria as his wife. The worst that could happen was that they would turn on her for agreeing to marry him, but that hardly mattered. He would make it up to her. He would make her happy, even if it took the rest of his life.

  “Aria,” he said, “I think we should go to see your family.”

  “But why? I know you don’t like them.” She bit her lip. “You never planned to see them when we went to New Orleans, did you?”

  He touched her cheek. “You need to see them, Aria, and they need to meet you. If we don’t go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Her silence was an accusation, as if she had seen through his lies. But when she spoke again, she was resigned.

  “I don’t have to stay with them, do I?”

  “No, mon amour. You
will not have to stay.” Cort held her face between his hands and smiled. “Aria, will you marry me?”

  AT FIRST THE WORDS made no sense. Aria listened for their echo in the quiet that followed, repeating them to herself until she was certain she hadn’t misunderstood.

  She had won. Not revenge, but everything she had ever wanted.

  “Yes,” she said, the word starting as a whisper, growing louder with each repetition. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Cort pulled her down, pressing her face into his neck so she couldn’t see what he was feeling.

  But he must love her. He wouldn’t ask her to spend the rest of her life with him if he didn’t.

  And she couldn’t ruin this wonderful moment by telling him that she wasn’t Lucienne Renier. If she had to go to New Orleans to make Cort happy, she would pretend. Just for a while. And then tell him, when it was over.

  Even the guilt of deceiving him for a few more weeks couldn’t mar her happiness. “When?” she asked.

  “I think you’re ready now.” He sighed. “You’ve exceeded my greatest expectations. I—”

  She pulled out of his embrace. “I don’t mean when are we going to New Orleans. I mean when can we be married?”

  He frowned in thought. “There must be someone in Placerville,” he said. “A justice of the peace, or a minister of some kind.”

  It wasn’t so terribly far to Placerville. And they would be together, truly together, before they ever went to New Orleans.

  The laughter fizzed in her chest and bubbled out. “Can we leave tomorrow?”

  He didn’t answer, but she was satisfied. There were no more questions in her mind. Tomorrow, the next day…it would happen soon.

  “Can I tell Babette?” she asked.

  “Let me speak with her first.”

  “But how can I keep it a secret when I see her in the morning?”

  “There are many things you’ll have to hide from now on,” he said gravely. “You must still be a lady with the Reniers.”

  “But why, if we aren’t staying?”

  “Do it for me,” he said, his warm hand cupping her chin. “S’il vous plaît.”

  Anything. Anything at all for him, even if she didn’t completely understand the reason.

  “All right,” she said. “But promise me one thing.”

  A guarded look came over his face, but she forged ahead. “You must learn to like being a wolf.”

  The sound he made was almost a laugh. “I promise to try,” he said, and grew serious again. “It will be my wedding present to you.”

  It was the most natural thing in the world to kiss him and start the loving all over again.

  “WE’RE TO BE MARRIED.”

  Cort’s blunt statement came as a shock, though Babette should not have been surprised. She had hoped for this very result. Hoped, but not quite dared to believe. She had certainly never considered revealing her hope to Aria.

  But the young woman had done much more than what she had set out to do. She had captured a man who displayed all the characteristics of a perennial bachelor, a man who had never needed to worry about anyone but himself…a man so driven that he was half-blind to the world around him.

  Was it possible that he really had fallen in love with Aria?

  “Congratulations,” Babette said, extending her hand. “I am happy for both of you.”

  Cort didn’t look happy. He took her hand and immediately let go. “Thank you,” he said. “We will be leaving for Placerville tomorrow morning, where we will be married. If you wish to accompany us…”

  “Of course I wish it. It is a pity that there can be no real wedding, but…” She shrugged. “Someone must give the bride away.”

  “Then you will be welcome.”

  There was something in his tone that kept her on edge, and she knew she had to approach her next questions very delicately.

  “What will you do afterward?” she asked.

  He walked away from her, hands knotted behind his back. “We will go to New Orleans, as we planned.”

  Her heart sank. “May I ask why?” she said.

  “She should meet her family.”

  That was hardly an answer, but Babette feared his honesty. She had speculated that Cort might make Aria his lover so that he could flaunt his conquest in the Reniers’ faces. How much more terrible for them when he presented “Lucienne” as his bride.

  But surely that was not why he had offered to marry her. Surely he would not go through with his revenge once Aria was his wife. He could not be so cruel.

  She had promised Yuri not to tell Cort what she had discovered about Aria, and the hope that Yuri would change his mind about helping di Reinardus had kept her quiet. But now it was time to admit part of the truth. The part that might convince Cort to abandon any idea of meeting the other Reniers.

  She paused to assure herself that Yuri was still occupied with his bottle in the dining room.

  “Let us sit down,” she said.

  Something in her tone must have alerted him, because Cort shot her a glance full of suspicion.

  He had a right to be concerned. This would be much worse than he imagined.

  “Please, monsieur,” she said.

  He gestured toward the sofa, and she took a seat. He chose one of the chairs and sat on the edge, his body nearly vibrating with tension.

  “I will get directly to the point,” she said. “I have recently learned that Aria is not who we believe her to be.”

  To his credit, Cort did not become angry with her, or with Aria—at least not openly. He listened with his gaze fixed on Babette, revealing nothing of his feelings. She told him everything Aria had told her: about her childhood and youth in a distant European country, her guardian’s plan to find others like her in America, his death and her journey to San Francisco in search of loups-garous like herself. And her false claim that she had lost her memory.

  The one thing she didn’t tell him was that Lucienne Renier had in fact been Alese di Reinardus, lost princess of Carantia…and of her certainty that Alese wasn’t the only royal heir. It was far too much for one man to accept all at once.

  But Cort was far from stupid. “If Aria isn’t Lucienne,” he said, “why did Yuri claim they were identical in appearance? Why does Brecht believe she is a Renier?”

  Babette could not entirely avoid the subject, so she shared another small part of the truth. “It seems to me,” she said, “that Aria must in fact be related in some way to the Reniers. Yuri has said that they have connections in Europe, though they may not have the same surname. It is possible that even distant relatives could share a certain similarity of appearance.”

  Cort stared at her, and she could see the thoughts working behind his eyes like the cogs of some intricate machine. “If that is so,” he said slowly, “her guardian could have been looking for the Reniers all along. But why was she living alone in this Carantia if she had kin in America? What became of her parents? Why did her guardian plan to bring her to California instead of New Orleans?”

  “Aria never knew these things, and her guardian failed to tell her before he was killed in an accident in New York. She doesn’t know the names of those her guardian sought or where to find them.”

  “So she was prepared to go with us to the Reniers, unaware that she might be their kin?”

  Babette nodded. “Surely you can understand why Aria kept the secret of her past. She did not wish to disappoint you. And she needed a family to go to.” Babette met and held his gaze. “But now she has found something far better than distant relatives who might not even know she exists. She has found you. And you are all she wants.”

  Cort didn’t reply.

  Babette couldn’t let the awful silence stand. “Can you understand?” she asked softly.

  “She didn’t trust me,” he said. “She let me believe a lie.”

  “And you let her believe your only reason for helping her was pure gentlemanly concern.”

  He got up, took a few awkward ste
ps across the room and turned around with the same uncharacteristic lack of grace. “Did Yuri know this?”

  “I informed him after Aria told me about her real past. I was hoping to convince him—”

  “That he should give up the idea of selling Aria to the Reniers? Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  “Perhaps I should have mentioned it earlier,” Babette said without apology. “But surely you see that perpetrating such a deception on the Reniers would be a mistake.”

  His mouth curved in a harsh smile. “Why—if she is, essentially, one of them?”

  “Why should you wish to put your own wife through such an ordeal?” Babette asked. She leaned forward. “Do you love her, Cort?”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed. “I care for her.”

  “Then you cannot go through with this farce. I know you have had another reason for wanting to take Aria to New Orleans. What exactly is your revenge worth, Monsieur Renier?”

  The boiling emotions he had held in check spilled over. “Damn Yuri,” he snarled. “What else did he tell you?”

  She decided against explaining that she knew about Cort’s “low origins” in the Louisiana bayous. “I know that you were soundly rejected by a woman who is one of the New Orleans Reniers,” she said. “And by her family. Yet I find it difficult to believe that mere spite—”

  “Believe what you choose,” Cort said. “Aria has already agreed to meet them, even though she has evidently known all along that she is not Lucienne. If she is prepared to do this—”

  “She knows you were involved with another woman. Does she know this woman was one of them?”

  “None of this is your business, madame,” he said coldly.

  “But it is my business what you do with Aria when you are finished using her.”

  “She will not come to any harm.”

  “If you betray her, you will destroy her.”

  “Your part in this is nearly finished, Madame Martin. You will be paid as promised.”

  Like a whore who had performed her service and was to be dismissed without a thought. But this whore still harbored secrets that could change everything. If Babette betrayed Yuri now and told Cort who Brecht really was, surely Cort would have the sense to take Aria away immediately.