by Sable Grey
“It is a sound plan,” Victor said after a moment but Michael only grunted. “And what do you get out of helping us?” Victor’s gaze swung to Elle, narrowed eyes reminding her very much of the way Michael looked when suspicious.
“My arrangement is with your brother,” she answered.
“It’s a small matter,” Michael added. “She wants freedom from the bastard who left those marks on her neck.”
“Freedom?” Cadence echoed.
“She’s a slave. It should take only a minute or so. A man who strikes a woman is almost always one that can be intimidated by another man,” Michael stretched his legs forward. “I should be able to convince him to sign his holdings over to her rather easily, and I imagine he’ll be on his way out of town before I even suggest he leaves.”
“I might remind you that you threatened me yourself yesterday,” Elle said pointedly.
“Only when you had that chair readied to bash over my head and had already bloodied my lip,” he glanced at Victor, “like a wild thing trapped in a corner.” Victor laughed easily.
“And now I learn you are no more dangerous, and perhaps even less, than a tender hearted old woman.” Elle shook her head, exaggerating a sigh. “Your underbelly is fully exposed now and I wonder if you’ll be able to intimidate a child from my path.”
“I may not strike you but I still might cut out your tongue, wench.” Michael threatened as he stood. “Come, I won’t be made to just sit here and wait for the report from the one you have watching Pent. In the meantime, I can at least check any ships of Hurst’s that might have arrived to see if he’s hiding aboard.”
“I’d not thought of that,” Elle admitted.
“He goes every morning and every evening,” Victor supplied as Elle rose to her feet. She followed Victor from the study.
“That’s not what you were doing last evening unless the captain of the ship is a busty brunette with red skirts,” Elle whispered, surprised when Victor laughed again.
“He’s a wolf. He can hear you.” Michael slanted his gaze at her as they stepped from the manor. “He can also smell you.”
“Can you?” She watched him wave for the driver of the carriage. The young man quickly opened the door and stepped aside.
“I can,” he said as she climbed in. He followed and settled beside her.
“Interesting.” She tucked a leg beneath her and turned towards him. “So how do I smell to a wolf man?”
His mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. “Like prey.”
She laughed. “Prey?”
His eyes glittered at her before he faced forward again. She liked him. She couldn’t help it. He was rough, less refined than his brother, but there was no pretence about him. She’d glimpsed he shared his brother’s sense of humour though he did not laugh nearly as easily. And he’d compared her to an ocean…a whole ocean, something he loved.
“The ships will keep,” she touched his arm. “Call for the driver to stop.” He looked at her and for a moment she thought he would not. Then he lifted his hand rapped firmly on the roof of the carriage. She smiled when they slowed and then finally came to a halt. She moved forward, sliding onto his lap so she could straddle him.
“Now tell me what prey smells like.” She smiled when he hardened beneath her and she reached between them to free him from his trousers. “Does prey smell good?”
“Enough to eat.” The thickness in his voice sent shivers down her spine as his hands pushed up her skirts, then stilled. “You are wearing no underclothes.”
“What good would it do if you are just going to rip them away?” She sucked in her breath when he lifted her and his cock pushed into her. Then he brought her down, angling his hips so he pushed deep into her. He felt good and when his strong hands slid up her back, pulling her forward to him, she welcomed his lips. He kissed her deeply, hips rising to meet hers when she began to move atop him.
His fingers worked the buttons at the back of her dress until the material loosened and he could tug it down around her, trapping her arms at her sides. One hand moved to her breasts and caressed, kneaded. When she leant away from his kiss, she tried to pull her arms free but his other hand pulled the material tighter behind her making it impossible. His eyes glittered up at her as his thrusts upward became sharper and the hand at her breasts dropped to slide between them to her clit.
“I’m supposed to be pleasing you,” she said on a whisper as he plucked at her.
“You are pleasing me.” He planted his thumb against her and began moving it in a small circle. She closed her eyes and hummed.
“No, look at me.” His words brought her eyes open again. Tension made her whole body sensitive. Every touch, every stroke, and her pants grew heavier. Heat wound through her, made her rock faster on his cock. She gazed at his face, watched the planes of his face flush, his nose flare, those intense eyes darken. Powerful. That’s what she liked best about him. He didn’t have to force. He didn’t have to threaten. He carried power and confidence on him like a thick woollen cloak, with no fear of anything.
She moaned his name as pleasure threatened and the muscles of her body grew taut. “Dear God, yes.” Her voice lifted as tension broke and a thousand sensations exploded through her body. She bucked against him and when his hand left her back, she jerked her arms free, reaching forward to grasp his shoulders.
“Damn. Damn. Damn,” his words found her as she drifted down and her body settled from rapture. He thrust upward, deep, and came into her, his fingers grasping her hips to hold her to him. He bared his teeth as he shouted through them, nose flaring with every ragged breath, the cords of his neck constricted. She reached up and stroked his face when leant his head back, and dragged breath through his lips. A throaty laugh surprised her and he shook his head without looking at her.
“I remembered you at the Bucket Inn as a gentle woman, soft, and perhaps even innocent.” He lifted his head, eyes searching hers.
“Would you have me pretend to be that way?’
“I would not but I would have you in a bed next time. I have no liking for being cramped where I cannot move.” He lifted her off of him and she pushed down her dress as she settled at his side. It took him but a moment to adjust his trousers and then reached up and rapped the roof of the carriage again. A moment later it jerked into motion.
“How often does Brisby beat you?” The question came out of nowhere.
“Normally, not often, only when he thinks I am cheating him of money he thinks I’ve made or keeping secrets from him.” She smoothed back her hair. “He is suspicious when he doesn’t know where I am and I return with no coin for him. I am beaten, sent to my room, sometimes made to go without meals for a day or two. Normally, I can find something to eat when I’m out working however.”
“When you are free of him, what will you do?” Michael asked.
“Whatever I wish,” she said and smiled. “I don’t know what that is yet but it shall be of my own choosing.” She studied his face as he glanced out the window and saw his scowl as they rumbled into the bustle of society..
“You do not like being made to stay here,” she said aloud.
“I despise this place,” he admitted, then shook his head. “No, you are correct. It’s the being confined here that makes me despise it.”
“You need a wild storm to ride,” she nodded when he looked at her. “London is too small for you, especially when you are caged here. I am content with any place but I do know the feeling of being trapped. You feel the world waiting just outside the door but cannot go. It burns inside of you, makes you restless.”
He angled his body towards her, watching her as she continued. “You start to hate those around you because even though they stay, it is not because they are made to. You start to stare out at the horizon, watching the road that leads somewhere…anywhere. And eventually, you become obsessed with hatred for what keeps you caged, willing to do anything to rid yourself of it.” She took a breath and smiled sadly. “Your captor i
s Hurst, mine is Lewis.”
He winced. “My captor hasn’t the same hold on me as yours does.”
She touched his hand. “Of course he does. You would leave but with him still alive, he threatens your family’s secret, and that can be as binding as being owned.” She offered a wink when he said nothing. “I told you I was not stupid.”
“No, you are not,” his voice softened, then he looked away.
Chapter Five
The boy was only twelve or so but had more than earned the money Elle had given him to sit outside Pent’s office. He carried a sketchbook and in it was a charcoal drawing of every person who’d visited Pent that day. Unfortunately, neither Hurst nor McKenzie were among any of the faces depicted and the boy told them that Pent hadn’t met with anyone.
“You did well, boy.” Michael said as he closed the sketchbook. He reached inside his coat and retrieved a small purse, holding it out for the boy. The boy’s surprise was evident on his face.
“Thank you, sir!”
“Run home now, Charles, so your father won’t worry. Come back tomorrow,” Elle told him and the boy started to turn, then stopped, looking down at the purse in his hand.
“Sir, if I were in bad business I wouldn’t do it in the light of prying eyes.” He looked at Michael. “I’d wait till dark and meet somewhere I thought was safe.”
Michael stared at him. “Would you?”
He shrugged. “The only ones to see me up to no good would be those in the dark up to no good too.”
“You are a clever boy, one I hope I’ll never find somewhere in bad business of your own.” Michael warned.
“Not me, sir.” He turned and bound down the street.
“He’s right. We’ll wait and follow Pent tonight,” Michael decided. Their wait wasn’t long. Pent, an image the boy had drawn on the very first page, appeared only ten minutes later and locked the door. They followed him by carriage to his home, and then waited for hours.
“He isn’t going anywhere. His driver is retired for the night.” Michael pointed at the carriage house where no light burned. “Hurst could be hiding inside for all we know.”
“Well, I’ll just go find out.” She started across the street, waving at him when he called out to her. Up the steps, she smoothed down her skirts and then lifted her knuckles to rap soundly. A moment later Pent opened the door and peered out at her, his pointed nose wrinkling slightly.
“Forgive me, sir, but I am looking for work…”
“There is no work here,” he interrupted.
“Nothing, sir?” she asked before he could close the door. “No floors to be scrubbed? No linens to be washed? My brother is but seven. I am all that he has to look after him. We needn’t much.” She waited as his gaze looked her over.
“Where is your brother now?”
“We have an apartment, sir. I do laundry and manage to pay the rent but my brother is hungry.” She reached forward and touched his hand. “Please, sir, I will do anything you need doing.”
He frowned and then reached inside his vest, retrieving a purse, and counted out several coins. “This does not mean you will come here again,” he warned.
“Oh no, sir, I couldn’t.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “I earn any coin I have.”
He studied her, then nodded. “At least you have pride which is more than I can say for most others of your misfortune. Come inside. You can scrub down the foyer.” He held out the coins again and she took them, feigning elation.
“Oh thank you, sir. Your generosity is appreciated.” She glanced behind her when he turned to lead her inside and barely made out Michael’s outline in the shadows. She flashed a grin before hurrying to follow Pent.
“I’ll have soap and water brought to you. My maid will be relieved to have someone ease her duties,” Pent spoke as he walked through the foyer and into the corridor. Elle watched him open the door to his salon and leant to peek inside at the man sitting in a chair. Her heart leapt in her chest and she whirled as the door closed behind Pent. Out the front door and she flew down the steps. She didn’t stop until she reached Michael’s side, pulling him farther into the shadows.
As she caught her breath, she stared at the door, fearful that it would open. “I don’t know if he saw me and, if he did, whether he recognised me.”
“Hurst?” Michael’s voice tightened.
“No, I have never met Hurst. McKenzie.” She drew a deep breath, then another, forcing herself to calm. And then the door opened and she grasped Michael’s arm, her heart feeling as if it leapt right into her throat. McKenzie stepped out, looking both ways down the street, Pent behind him.
“It was only a beggar,” Pent’s voice carried across the empty street.
“It was not. It was that girl, the one from the Inn, Lewis’s little tart,” McKenzie hissed, moving down the steps. “What was she doing here?”
“She was going to scrub my floors. I tell you, she was looking for work.” Pent glanced around nervously. “Come back inside before someone sees you here.” After a moment, McKenzie turned and retreated back into the house.
Elle’s hands shook. “I am stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.” She covered her mouth as Michael faced her. “He saw me. He knew who I was. He’ll go to Lewis. I’ve ruined our plan.”
Michael stood staring at the house. “Not if you lie to him as you did before about knowing who I was. Tell him you were looking for work all day, it will explain why you were gone so long. You had no luck thieving so you begged to do housework so that you would not return tonight empty handed. When McKenzie goes to him, he’ll know you were there scrubbing floors.”
“Yes. That might work.” She nodded. “I made up a story about a brother to help my chances. I saw McKenzie and ran not wanting him to recognise me and give away my ruse. It’s a lame excuse but it might not make a difference if my being there and what for are confirmed.”
“Now that you are breathing again, it wasn’t stupid, reckless but not stupid. You found out McKenzie was in there so we know we’re not wasting our time.” Michael crossed his arms. “I’m tempted to go in myself and just beat him until he tells me where the bastard is.”
“Can I ask you something?” Elle watched him look at her a moment before inclining his head. “Why are you so set on killing him? The rumours will die and he can’t prove you are a wolf. You lost your ship, just bribe him for money. You have your arm back.”
“If I did that, then I wouldn’t need you anymore.”
That shouldn’t have hurt her but it did even though she knew what he meant. “Why?” she pressed.
“My brother ruined Hurst’s arm because of what he did to me and, while Victor wanted to, he did not kill him for what Cadence suffered. Victor refrained because he thought I would want to retaliate for what was done against me.” Michael shifted. “You saw Cadence, how she is. She’s gentle and loving. And when I think of…if Hurst hurts her, he hurts my brother.”
Elle stared at him. No. Cadence was the kind that wouldn’t have been able to protect herself. Victor had saved her but Michael meant to make certain Hurst was never a threat to her again. It was that moment that she knew she loved him. Hurst was not his captor at all. Michael was caged by the love for his family. She wanted to leap on him and bite him until he shook with pleasure.
Michael suddenly breathed in deeply and then looked at her. “You cannot possibly be aroused when only moments ago you were terrified,” he growled. “You seem excited by any promise of violence.”
“Perhaps I am,” she said. “Perhaps I long to ride a wild storm before it’s smooth sailing again.” She wouldn’t tell him that it was his honour that truly made her want for him. She would not trap him. He wanted freedom to return to the ocean he loved and she would not get in the way of that.
He chuckled. “You compare me to a force of nature?”
“An angry squall,” she corrected and his chuckle became laughter.
“And you are my dangerous waters to rage against?”
/>
“I’m the pirate that takes your ship when you are too busy dancing with your beloved Atlantic,” she teased with a giggle. “I sell it and all its goods off to the highest bidder and spend my gold on whisky and sex.”
She gasped when his arm slipped around her and pulled her to him. “Always finding a way to steal from me.” His lips brushed over hers, hovered above her mouth momentarily as he inhaled deeply. Then he kissed her, those defined lips coaxing her to return his affection. She parted for him and moaned when his warm tongue invaded and danced. Lifting her hands to his face, she kissed him back passionately, pressing against him. When his arm tightened, she pressed her teeth around his bottom lip until that deep sound—half groan, half growl—vibrated from his throat.
“Your weapons are more dangerous than those of a pirate,” he murmured when she kissed at his jaw. “Unrelenting and cruel.” She nipped lightly. Disappointment filled her when the door of Pent’s home opened again and he released her.
She stood at his side and watched McKenzie move down the steps and start out at a quick pace down the street and around the corner. Michael followed but she turned and hurried in the opposite direction where they’d left their carriage. The driver straightened when she neared, opening the door for her, his gaze darting behind her.
“We’ll pick him up around the corner. Hurry,” she told him. She watched from the window and, just as they rounded the corner, she saw McKenzie’s carriage pull away. Michael stepped out from the shadows.
“Let’s go,” she called, “before we lose him.” She sucked in her breath when he looked at her with yellow eyes that instantly dimmed. He climbed inside calling for the driver to follow the carriage. They wound through the streets of London in silence, and the driver stopped the carriage far enough back that McKenzie didn’t notice when he climbed from his own. A man stepped from the shadows to greet him and a low growl crawled from Michael’s throat.
“Is that him?” Elle asked.
“It’s him.” He slammed open the door and strode forward, leaving her to follow. The two turned at the sound of his quick, heavy steps, and Elle saw the look of surprise on Hurst’s face. McKenzie however looked at her when she ran forward to catch up with Michael. He nodded as if he’d known all along what she was doing at Pent’s house. It was too late though. There would be nothing he could do to stop Michael.