by C. A. Szarek
“Well, Elissa, I’ll leave you to retire. Shall we meet to break our fast in the morn?” Lord Cam asked.
Alasdair wanted to bark at the duke to not address her so casually.
“Aye, my lord.” She looked at him. “I’m not meeting Lady Cera until midmorning.”
“Ah, yes. To get your new bondmate.”
When the lass smiled, it was broad, genuine, and she finally spared Alasdair a glance. Her cheeks flared pink up to her ears and she averted her gaze as quickly as it’d rested on him.
Alasdair clenched his fists at his sides. The condition didn’t leave him even as the duke disappeared around the corner after another bow to the lady and a goodnight for him, too. He wanted to punch the smile off the man’s face. Odd, considering he’d always liked Lord Cam.
Lady Elissa wouldn’t look at him—again.
He threw open the door to her guest suite. Without a pause, he gripped her upper arm and half-shoved, half-dragged her into the room.
She gasped.
It took all he was made of not to slam the door.
“You let him kiss you!”
Her pretty hazel eyes widened, but at least she’d finally looked at him.
Alasdair growled.
Lady Elissa narrowed her eyes, her face darkening. “What business is it of yours?”
He stalked toward her. Instead of cowering, she squared her shoulders and stood taller. Like she had the other time they’d argued. Her demand sunk in and Alasdair froze.
She’s right. It’s none of my damn business.
He bit down until his teeth smarted. “It’s not proper.”
The little vixen had the nerve to smirk. She perched her hands on her hips. “No more improper than you being alone with me in my rooms at the moment.”
“I’m your chaperone.”
“Aye. Where was my chaperone when the duke kissed me?”
Alasdair’s blood boiled when she arched a fair brow and one corner of her mouth shot up. He intentionally towered over her, but his lass just gazed up at him. As if bored.
“Besides, why is it wrong for the man I’ll marry to kiss me?”
Shock stole his breath and made him stumble. “The man you’ll marry?” He cleared his throat.
“Lord Cam is my suitor.” Lady Elissa spoke slowly, dragging out the words, as if he were daft.
“You’ve not chosen.” More commandment than statement. He didn’t care.
“What if I have?”
Rage and jealousy slammed into Alasdair. Pain, too. His chest burned and his head spun. Was she trying to dare him? Hurt him on purpose?
Then again, he’d known her purpose for being in Greenwald, and the king’s wishes. He’d seen her with all four of the men King Nathal had selected. Why was it such a shock that she might’ve selected one of them?
And why the hell did the idea make him feel like he’d been run through with a poison-tipped sword?
Silence fell. They stared at each other.
For the first time, he couldn’t read Lady Elissa’s expression.
“He asked to kiss me. I said aye. It’s really not your concern.” Her tone was light, as if they discussed the weather.
That hurt even more.
“You want to marry him?” Alasdair cringed at his thick demand.
“What if I do?”
He snatched her waist. The fabric of the purple gown rustled.
Fine tremors shook Lady Elissa’s slender frame but she didn’t fight him as Alasdair pinned her to his chest and took her mouth. He shoved his tongue between her lips, but he didn’t have to force her to open. She did that on her own, kissing him back hard and hungry, just how he devoured her.
She moaned; he groaned.
When she slid her arms around his neck, Alasdair hauled her closer still. He was granite in his breeches, and her hips pressed into his. There was no way she couldn’t feel him. Lady Elissa would know how much he wanted her.
She started to rock against him, and his cock threatened to blow like an untried virgin. Alasdair kissed her harder, caressing her back, following the curve of her perfect bottom, squeezing, kneading. Lifting her, rocking into her.
His lass gasped into his mouth, twining her tongue around his.
He wanted to banish the picture of Lord Cam’s mouth moving over hers. He wanted—no, needed—her to forget the duke. She needed to only see Alasdair. Only want him.
Marry him.
Marriage?
The thought jarred him back into his head.
No.
Alasdair ended the kiss, tugging away from her grip. Lady Elissa’s mewling protest was almost his undoing.
“Lord Cam didn’t kiss me like that,” she blurted.
The other man’s name on her lips had him taking a step back, even though all he wanted to do was sweep her up into his arms and toss her on the bed that was too close for comfort.
They made eye contact and she blushed to the tips of her ears again. Her breasts heaved in her low-cut bodice as she tried to catch her breath. Her bottom lip was plump and shiny. Lady’s Elissa’s little pink tongue darted out, tracing it, as if she sought his taste.
Damn, he wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted a woman. Would she say no?
His sense of right and wrong warred with his throbbing cock.
“I’m not innocent,” played on a loop in his head.
Again, he doubted the meaning of what she’d said that day in Castle Durroc. She didn’t kiss like a woman of experience, despite the fervor. The shared hunger threatened to consume him—throwing Alasdair into deeper chaos.
He rammed his hand through his hair. He’d done it again. Taken what he wanted—though one kiss wouldn’t slake his desire for her one iota.
It’s still wrong.
He thought about Betha and the failed attempt to take her in the room at The White Sage after the first time he’d kissed Lady Elissa.
No other woman would do.
And he couldn’t—shouldn’t—have the one before him.
Alasdair needed to leave, now. Before he explored that doubt in the back of his head and did something that couldn’t be reversed. “I have to go.”
She blinked, and hurt darted across her gorgeous face. “But—”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” He averted his gaze from the sudden shine of her hazel eyes.
Then he fled the room like the coward he was.
* * * *
Elissa watched the door close and a mixture of shock and hurt burst in her chest. Magic skittered down her body and she fought it. She had to. Or she’d give in to the urge to fling water at the door. Even worse, she wanted to chase him down and drown him.
Sir Alasdair.
The object of her confusion and pain.
Stupid. Man.
“What is wrong with me?” What’d she done wrong?
Had she done anything wrong?
He’d done it again. Melted her with his mouth, with his hands on her body. He’d touched her with sure, but tender ministrations. She’d felt his arousal pushing into her belly. Elissa hadn’t been scared. Perhaps nervous, but her core had throbbed. Her legs had gone wobbly.
She’d moved into Sir Alasdair instead of away, like her head had shouted at her to do. She’d told logic to go away and listened to her heart. Held on to him as hard has he’d held her. Kissed him just as hard, too.
As she’d blurted—nothing like the duke’s kiss had made her feel.
Neither heart, nor body.
I would’ve done it. I would’ve…given myself to him.
Handed her innocence to a man who kept hammering her with hurt. Shudders racked her frame, magic following, but it didn’t chase away her waves of pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks against her will.
She’d promised the duke she’d see Lord Jorrin. Tell him she wasn’t considering the other three men. That equated to her agreeing to marry Lord Camden Malloch.
Elissa hadn’t said the words. Lord Cam hadn’t either. It mattered
not.
Her agreement to reject the other suits was as good as an, ‘Aye, I’ll marry you.’
“Blessed Spirit…”
What have I done?
A sob worked its way up and out. Elissa collapsed on her bed, her chest so tight every forced breath was a slicing dagger. Her heart thundered as if it was storming. Her temples throbbed. She rolled to her side and clutched her stomach, but she couldn’t get a hold of herself.
Magic pulsed beneath the surface of her skin. Pushing, threatening to spurt out. The water in her washing basin danced, but didn’t spill—yet. It would if she couldn’t catch her breath, regain her composure.
Elissa rolled to her back on the bed. Her corset cut into her, and her purple skirts rustled, but she spread her arms and legs, staring at the carved ceiling of her guest suite.
Breathe. Calm. She chanted over and over until her powers stepped back, but the tears didn’t stop. They were going to soak her pillow at this rate.
Her mouth had run away with her when Sir Alasdair had shoved her into her rooms. She’d been bold with him. Daring. Saying things she hadn’t meant, just to get a reaction out of him.
Half-truths, weren’t they?
She might marry Lord Cam.
His sapphire eyes had flashed with anger. So much rage it’d taken her aback. But there’d been something more, too.
Hurt?
Then he’d grabbed her up and kissed her. Something she wanted with her whole being.
Her knight’s second rejection hurt worse than the first.
She’d already known he didn’t want her. Elissa had refused to accept it, because it seared her from the inside out. Her feelings for her chaperone swirled around in her head.
She cared for him. More than cared for him.
Elissa’s gasp echoed in her rooms. “I love him.”
Agony bit deep at the stupid revelation. She sat up in her bed, crushing her legs into her chest and hugging them tight. Elissa started to rock as more tears blurred the pretty décor in the room.
Sir Alasdair Kearney certainly didn’t love her back.
The king said he wouldn’t force her to have a marriage without love. She hadn’t counted on loving a man who didn’t want to marry her.
Now she’d given her word to the Duke of Dalunas that he’d be the only man she considered. Lord Cam was a good man. He would care for her. Care about her.
“Will that be enough?”
Nay.
Her heart answered and Elissa crushed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She had to push her feelings away. Steel herself against the onslaught or she’d lose control of her magic again.
Lord Cam had told her they could take things as slowly as she needed. She’d just have to give him a real chance. He could make her happy.
Sir Alasdair’s blue eyes danced into her head, as always when she lied to herself. She shoved that image away, too. Didn’t need his smile, his dark hair, or the memories of his mouth moving over hers to further cloud her mind. “He doesn’t want you, Elissa Durroc. Not for keeps.”
She’d felt his arousal. He was a man; it was natural, wasn’t it?
Elissa couldn’t give her innocence to a man who didn’t want to marry her. Her virginity was meant for…Lord Cam? She clenched her teeth until her gums ached.
She didn’t want Lord Cam physically. Not like she did Sir Alasdair. Her body hadn’t responded to the duke’s kiss. It had both times with her knight. Her breasts heavy, nipples tingling. Her belly had warmed and between her legs had throbbed.
Elissa had been introduced to desire. Wanted to experience it again. Wanted more.
With the knight, not the duke.
Guilt churned her stomach.
Of course, the queen had explained the physical act between a man and a woman when her monthlies had started at age three and ten. She’d been cautioned that lying with a man could lead to a child, so the act was to be reserved for marriage.
Elissa was a born lady, so chastity was even more important for a good match. She’d heard it all her life.
Her cousin had explained it could be pleasurable for the woman if the man was a good lover. With the way Queen Morghyn looked at King Nathal, Elissa had no doubt her cousin was happy with her husband in the marriage bed.
Elissa wanted that, too. Lord Cam looked at her with desire in his eyes. What if she couldn’t feel that way for him? What if the knight had ruined her for her husband?
“Stop it!” She cradled her head with both hands.
Elissa stilled on her bed when she thought she heard a scratching noise. She concentrated, waiting to see if it happened again. Hadn’t been able to determine where the noise had come from.
A low whine accompanied the second, then third, scratch.
She slipped to her shaky feet and looked at the closed door. The next sounds were more frantic as if he’d heard her get up.
“Mischief?” she whispered.
He pushed his head into the door when she opened it only a crack, widening the gap, trying to move past her. The wolfling whined again, until she stepped back so he could enter. Then he wuffed, as if chiding her for being slow about it.
Elissa blinked. She closed the door and turned to her would-be-bondmate. He ran in circles around her, crying and chuffing.
“Mischief.”
The silver wolf sat and stared up at her, his tail thumping on the stone floor when they made eye contact.
“How did you…?”
They weren’t bonded yet.
How had the wolfling known she needed…something?
“Nay,” she whispered. “I didn’t need something. I needed you.” Elissa knelt and buried her hands in the thick silver fur at his neck. He whined and wiggled closer, working his way into a hug. A warm wet tongue caressed her face, up to her ear.
Elissa laughed, she couldn’t scold him. Didn’t mind the damp cheek. She pulled back and looked into his pale eyes. “How did you know?”
He couldn’t answer her. Not like he’d be able to after they bonded. Mischief pawed her knee and nuzzled her shoulder.
She smiled. Relief washed over her and she could breathe easier.
This wolf would become her best friend, her companion, like his sire was to Lady Cera.
“Not become,” she said lowly. “Already is.”
Mischief wuffed, as if he’d understood every word.
Chapter Twenty-three
“I’m sorry, Elissa. I didn’t anticipate having to leave you so soon.” Lord Cam cupped her cheek and she allowed his touch, consciously leaned into him.
I need to try with him.
This man who would become her husband.
After last night and her knight running from her, rejecting her again, Elissa’s head knew what she had to do. Too bad her heart disagreed.
“It’s all right, my lord. I’ll see you soon enough.”
“Cam,” he chided, but smiled.
Her face warmed. Lady Cera’s words all those sevendays ago about him not being a chore to look at teased into her mind. The Duchess of Greenwald was right. “Cam,” she whispered.
The duke’s—her duke’s—blue eyes lit up, as if she’d just given him a gift.
“Lady Cera says I must stay here to familiarize myself with being bonded. Training, she called it, but when she feels Mischief and I are strong with each other, I’ll come to you in Dalunas.”
Her wolf sat at her side, but he was tense. As if he didn’t like Lord Cam. He kept glancing over his shoulder toward her chaperone.
The knight hovered not far, pretending to not listen to their conversation. His broad shoulders were tight and he all but paced.
Elissa tried not to notice him. She ignored what her soon-to-be-bondmate kept doing, too.
“Aye. I shall miss being at your side.”
She was able to smile genuinely. “I’ll miss you too, my lord.”
“You should call me Cam,” he urged.
Elissa broke their eye-contact. “As you wish, my—I me
an, Cam.”
“Your Cam is fine, too.” He winked.
Her face burned even more and she lowered her lashes.
The duke tugged her chin up gently and their gazes collided, but she was suddenly very aware of Sir Alasdair in the periphery. His blue eyes—so different from Lord Cam’s—bored into her.
“As I’ve been calling you by your given name, Elissa.” Lord Cam’s voice dropped. Thicker. Lower.
She swallowed. His want of her was palpable, swirling around them. All the more off, because she didn’t feel that way, didn’t echo the same physical draw. Elissa fought the urge to close her eyes. Or at least look away. She forced a smile. “Of course, Cam.”
The duke grinned. It lit up his face and made her heart skip.
Maybe trying with him wouldn’t be so awful. He radiated happiness—because of her.
His large warm hand slipped from her face and he bowed deeply, something that wasn’t wholly fitting of his rank.
“Cam—” She reached for him, stepping close. Her hands settled on his forearms. Elissa tugged, then slipped her arms around his middle.
His pale eyes widened, but he allowed her touch, the small embrace. Before she lost her nerve, she sucked in a breath, pushed to her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his. It didn’t take her suitor long to get over his surprise. Instead of rearing back, he pulled her closer, wrapping her in a much tighter embrace than when he’d kissed her the night before.
Lord Cam took the kiss over, running his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Elissa did so, returning his gesture by pushing into his mouth.
It was pleasant.
Warm.
But there was no fire.
Her belly didn’t flip; her skin didn’t tighten and overheat. Her breasts didn’t feel heavy. She didn’t feel desire settle low.
Disappointment crashed over her, and as he ended the kiss, she tried not to cry. He was so kind, so handsome, so perfect for her.
Why can’t I want him?
Elissa tried to smile up at him, banishing tears.
The look in his eyes was so tender. He cupped her cheeks again and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sweet Elissa, I shall miss you indeed.”
A throat cleared and Lord Cam glanced over his shoulder. The captain of his personal guard, Eivan, inclined his head. “I’m sorry, my lord. It’s urgent. The horses are ready for us in the bailey.”