Coveted

by Stacey Brutger

  Trapped.

  The light from the dying fire highlighted the planes and angles of his face, and she gulped at the raw hunger in his eyes. She almost wanted to pretend she didn’t see the fever. “You’re not well.”

  Aiden placed a knee on the bed, leaning forward until his hands came to rest on either side of her hips. Shayla shook her head and quickly turned over and crawled away from him, dignity be damned.

  She couldn’t let him touch her. Couldn’t let him kiss her. If he did, she couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to resist.

  Not when his touch set her on fire.

  This affectionate Aiden with roaming hands and charm could easily make her forget why getting close to anyone was dangerous.

  His hands settled on her hips as he leaned over her. His breath heated the back of her neck, and he brushed the side of his face against her shoulder. She shivered, terrified that if she moved it would be toward him.

  “You wiggle like that again, and I’ll take it as an invitation.”

  Shayla trembled as she struggled to remain still when all she wanted to do was invite him to take whatever he wanted. He trailed his hands over her body as if to soothe her, while slowly snuggling closer.

  Soothed was the very last thing she felt.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was muffled from strain.

  “Gentling you. Getting you used to my touch.” He leaned over her, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Making you crave me.”

  Shayla gulped, unable to speak. And damn him, it was working. She did want him. Wanted him beyond reason.

  A pounding on the door startled her so badly, she rolled and fell onto the floor with a thump. The impact knocked some sense into her. She looked up to see Aiden gaze down at her, his tousled hair making him appear so very touchable.

  When the knock came again, his face hardened into the man she recognized. He stood, stepping over her, and strode toward the door, looking ready to do murder at the interruption.

  Not wanting to be caught in his room, Shayla rolled under the bed. She didn’t know if she wished for him to be called away or return to finish what they’d started.

  She heard the door click shut and waited another minute. When she didn’t hear any footsteps, a long sigh escaped, but she refused to analyze whether it was disappointment or relief.

  She didn’t want to know.

  Shayla twisted to get out from under the bed.

  It was now or never if she wanted to escape.

  So why didn’t it seem so urgent anymore?

  * * *

  Aiden watched Shayla wiggle out from under the bed, her adorable backside swinging in the air as she struggled to manage the long skirts. After staring at her for another few seconds, he couldn’t look and not touch. For the first time ever, his wolf growled with lust for a woman, desperate to lay claim and mark her as his mate.

  “I told you what would happen if you shook your ass at me again.”

  A little squeak escaped her, and he watched in bemusement when her hands slid out from underneath her, and she plopped into a pile of silk. She glared at him over her shoulder, her face flushed, her eyes flashing a warning to keep his distance.

  He couldn’t.

  “I thought you’d left.”

  He reached down, grasped her ankles, and gave a quick tug. The rest of her slid out from under the bed. What captured his attention was the way her skirts hiked up to her thighs. Lord save him, but she wasn’t wearing any stockings or even a shift. Inch by slow, tortuous inch, those gorgeous legs of hers were revealed.

  He licked his lips, the temptation to taste her a compulsion he had no will to resist.

  “Hey, watch it.”

  “Believe me, I am.” He glanced up to see her struggling to yank down the skirt, denying him the pleasure of seeing everything.

  A blush swept her face, bewitching him into behaving. He stood and offered her a hand.

  Aiden tightened his lips when she ignored him, but he persisted and kept his arm out. He coveted her touch too much to give up any opportunity that presented itself.

  He watched Shayla struggle to stand with the unfamiliar skirts twisted around her, enjoying the show, nearly smiling when she very reluctantly accepted his assistance when her efforts proved futile. Her hands were chilly, and he vividly recalled what they’d felt like skimming over his chest. Remembered that she’d enjoyed touching him as much as he enjoyed being touched.

  Goose flesh rippled across his skin as he imagined her hands on his body again. Anywhere. Everywhere. It was only when she tugged on her hand a second time that he realized he’d been playing with her fingers.

  He shook his head to banish the lustful thoughts. Refusing to relinquish his hold, though, he guided her to the table and chair in front of the fireplace. “Sit.”

  She wavered, looking at the single place setting. “I can’t take your supper. You need it far more than I do.” As if to call her a liar, her stomach rumbled in protest.

  He raised a brow, but she only lifted her stubborn chin. He resisted the urge to lean over and kiss the tip of that pert nose. He’d refused to go downstairs to eat with his men for fear that if he wasn’t there she’d vanish. She was too clever for her own good.

  “There is more than enough food for both of us.” If he appeased one hunger, maybe it would tame the impulse to knock everything off the table and ravish her on the spot. Battling the lust that continued to build, he lifted the cover from the food.

  Her eyes widened when she saw the feast. “They must have emptied the kitchen.”

  Aiden pulled out a chair for her, suddenly sideswiped by an attack of nerves. He turned away to watch the flames, worried that she’d see how much it meant to him to share food from his plate.

  It was an old mating ritual, long since forgotten by most. He’d only shared his meal with one other female, with disastrous results.

  He’d never attempted it again.

  Never wanted to relive the humiliation.

  Yet, here he was, leaving himself vulnerable to her.

  Seconds passed in silence, a torture more agonizing than anything they’d done to him in prison. Tension continued to grow until all he could think of was escaping the room.

  This had been a bad idea.

  “Thank you.”

  Aiden’s head whipped around to see Shayla taking a seat, carefully tucking her skirt around her. The frost that had frozen his soul so long ago melted a little. The feeling was uncomfortable, leaving him almost lightheaded. He stared down at the top of her head, struggling to collect himself, then carefully pushed in her chair to the correct distance from the table. He circled around and seated himself.

  “Um…”

  Aiden halted his descent before his arse hit the seat, peering up at her. She picked at her skirt, deftly avoiding his gaze.

  Irritation nipped at his control, and he slowly rose to his full height. He’d be damned if he would let her kick him out of his own room.

  She’d agreed to supper.

  They were damned well going to eat supper together.

  “What?” He winced at his tone of voice, wishing he could call it back when she cringed. After years of solitude, maybe he truly was nothing more than a beast.

  Instead of backing down, Shayla narrowed her eyes and met his glare without flinching. “Maybe you should put a shirt on before you sit?”

  Heat washed through him. He stalked across the room, feeling foolish as he yanked the shirt over his head. He stood by his chair and crossed his arms. He’d been sent from the table too many times because of his lack of polish. Though he knew she was in the right, no matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t hold back. “Am I dressed appropriately enough for you?”

  Shayla leaned back in her chair to look up at him, scanning him from head to waist…taking her time, too. The perusal was detached, and he found himself standing straighter, shoulders back, awaiting her verdict. Tension danced in the air, and it was all he could do not to f
idget. “Although I enjoyed the view, you shouldn’t be distracting us poor, helpless females while we’re trying to eat. If you prefer to dine alone, just say so.”

  When she shifted to stand, Aiden finally relented and dropped into his chair before she could make good her threat. He sorted some of the food, selecting the most delicate morsels for her to eat. Turmoil whirled inside him, and his brain quickly latched onto one part of her statement. “Distracted, huh?”

  “Oh, shut up. Women don’t like conceited men.”

  His mood lightened.

  She found him attractive.

  A distraction.

  Aiden did his best not to scarf down his food like an animal, but Shayla didn’t seem to mind. He was fascinated by the way she ate, picking at her food with her fingers, licking away the juices. The way her throat moved when she swallowed tempted him to lean over and run his tongue along her pulse. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, willing his arousal away before it became a bigger problem.

  Much too soon, the food was gone. He leaned back in his chair to study Shayla. The flames softened her features. Her shower had tamed her hair a bit. The silky blonde strands curled and twisted about her, the waves inviting his hands to delve into the locks and see them spread across his bed.

  After rolling around on the bed and her subsequent tumble onto the floor, she looked mussed and well loved. His imagination hadn’t done her justice. He’d known, even under all that mud, that she would be beautiful. As she sat across from him, she stole his breath.

  She was fae royalty come to life. Her golden skin tempted him to explore with his mouth. Her eyes danced with mirth when she looked at him, the small twist to her lips tempting him steal a kiss no matter the cost. He sat tense, waiting for the slightest signal from her, barely able to hold back from pouncing on her like some lust-crazed teenager.

  Shayla’s attention wandered to Aiden again and again. Her caveman had disappeared, leaving behind a man who intimidated her more than a little. Energy exuded from him. His lack of beard threw her off stride, kept her from being able to dismiss him as unsuitable.

  Aiden was sprawled back in his chair, looking relaxed for the first time since she’d found him, almost at ease if not for the feverish glimmer in his eyes. Worry tightened her chest. “You should call a doctor.”

  He didn’t move. “Do I look like I need a doctor?”

  God help her, he looked good enough to lick, but she’d eat her own mud-crusted clothing before she told him that. “You’re feverish. You need medication or at the very least, someone to watch over you.”

  He cocked his head, almost as if he didn’t understand her concern. “If you’re worried, you can stay in my room.”

  Shayla snorted, nearly swallowing her tongue at the slow smile that curled his lips. Good Lord, she wouldn’t be able to survive a night alone with him without succumbing to the urge to touch. “I’m not a nurse.”

  “The castle is full of men.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “If not you, there is no one else.”

  Shayla ignored the way her blood heated. He sounded like he cared. Like she was special. Her heightened reaction to him only made her more suspicious. He was playing her, she was sure of it. Worse, she was falling for it.

  She narrowed her eyes as she surveyed him, searching for the ruse. Well, two could play his game. “I’ll agree on one condition.”

  Aiden rubbed his chin, the scrape of his stubble making her fingers tingle with the need to run her hands over his chin. “Name it.”

  “No touching.”

  Silence stretched. She expected immediate refusal. Instead, he nodded. “Then it appears I’m completely at your mercy.”

  Aiden stood and sauntered toward the bed. “But there is one thing you should know.”

  Half way there, he stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor.

  “Huh?” Shayla couldn’t form coherent words, riveted by his every move. When he reached for the buttons of his pants, her gaze snapped up to see him staring directly at her.

  “I sleep in the nude.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aiden lay on the bed, the blankets dangerously low on his hips, barely concealing his arousal. He’d miscalculated Shayla’s steel will. She’d bathed him on and off for the last two hours, working to lower his fever.

  His nonexistent fever.

  It took energy to heal faster. Energy equaled heat. Wolves naturally ran warm for that reason. He’d seen no reason to share that information with her and lose the opportunity to have her nurse him all night long.

  He couldn’t admit that he’d lied in order to watch over her.

  She’d tried to sneak out on him!

  She’d left him no choice.

  It wasn’t because he wanted to keep her close.

  His wolf lifted his head from his solid slumber, whiffling in amusement at the outright lie.

  It drove him crazy that she was being so difficult, that she wouldn’t just do what he asked. She had a ferocity and cunning in a fight that reminded him of a wolf, all sleek and beautiful, not to mention such passion that he ached to keep her safe. She had been born with the heart of a wolf, and it only made him more determined not to let any harm come to her.

  After the first brush of the cool cloth against his skin, he had been ready to beg for mercy and admit his ruse. Only he couldn’t. He craved her touch too much.

  The last few hours had been delicious agony. When Shayla’s breathing evened out where she sat, so prim and proper in the chair, Aiden jumped out of bed like a swarm of bees had just stung him on the arse. He’d never ached so badly for a woman in his life. He contemplated taking himself in hand, but nothing would satisfy him but her touch.

  He prowled the room, uncomfortable in his own skin.

  He’d been a fool for underestimating her and agreeing to her silly no-touch rule.

  She’d broken her own decree when the cloth slipped. When a single finger traced over his ribs, goose bumps raced across his skin and breathing stopped being important. He hadn’t moved, pretended to be asleep, afraid she’d halt her innocent exploration.

  Aiden abruptly stopped pacing.

  She’d broken her own rules. That negated his promise. No one said anything about not having her in his bed. Her scent on his sheets. Aiden whirled, his steps purposeful as he strode to her side.

  Without giving himself a second to hesitate, he scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed. When she sighed and snuggled into the covers, Aiden scooted her over and slipped in beside her.

  Shayla wiggled to get comfortable. Then she rolled and draped herself over him. Aiden lay rigid, fighting to keep control, calling himself all kinds of fool.

  When he’d first gone to bed, he’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep. After months sleeping on cold stone, the bed was too soft. He’d been ready to sleep on the floor when she’d entered through the passageway between rooms.

  Now that she was in his arms, everything changed. Much to his surprise, her scent put him at ease. His heart slowed. He wrapped his arms around her, gently kissed her forehead, then buried his face into her hair and inhaled. Within seconds, he was asleep.

  * * *

  Aiden woke more rested than he had since he could remember. Shayla lay wrapped around him, fast asleep and, much as he regretted it, Aiden slipped out of bed. If he didn’t leave before she woke, he wouldn’t be responsible for taking her then and there.

  Last night, that would have been enough.

  Now he wanted more.

  He wanted her to willing choose him, not just be seduced.

  As if missing the loss of his heat, Shayla stretched, slowly coming awake. The soft smile that curved her lips caused his heart to thump painfully against his rib cage. She was rumpled. Disheveled. Sprawled across his bed as if he’d spent the night exploring every inch of her.

  “You look beautiful in that dress.”

  “I borrowed it from the trunk. I hope you don’t mind. As soon as I get back to
town, I’ll return it.”

  Aiden shrugged. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she’d pick the one dress he had specifically purchased for his wife. “My wife detested that dress, refusing to wear what she considered a rag. You’re welcomed to it and anything else you find.”

  * * *

  “Your what?” Shayla blanched, very much wide awake now. She leapt off the bed, nearly tripping on the cursed dress. She marched forward, ready to smack him, but she couldn’t bring herself to get that close. It should’ve gratified her to see him back away, an uneasy expression on his face, but anger was too strong, her devastation too deep.

  “I should’ve known you were too good to be true. A man like you does not pursue a woman like me unless there’s something wrong with them.”

  Unable to bear looking at him, she whirled away, kicking at her skirts when they threatened to trip her. “I should’ve run when you told me. I would be in the comfort of my room at the inn instead of stuck here with you.” She ignored the fact that she had a stalker waiting for her.

  “I can’t believe I let you touch me.” Not able to stand being in the same room with him, she dashed toward the door, desperate to get away.

  The damned door wouldn’t budge.

  “You enjoyed my touch.”

  “It was a mistake. One we will not repeat.” She kicked the door when it wouldn’t budge, unable to understand why she felt sick to learn that he was already taken. She knew the moment she saw him that he would be trouble, but ignored all the warnings. She convinced herself that dreams and fairy tales were real. Hell, she had herself half-convinced he was a werewolf. That’s how deluded she’d allowed herself to become over a man

  “Stupid caveman.” She had to get away from him before she did something stupid. Like cry. The door opened an inch, fresh air brushed her face, and relief trickled through her.

  Then Aiden reached over her head and pushed it shut.

  “No, I didn’t lock her up. She ran, just like you tried to do last night. And she died. I will not allow the same thing to happen to you.” The lovely Scottish burr that so bewitched her last night had vanished. Any amusement on Aiden’s face was gone, leaving behind a granite mask that would crack if it showed any emotion.