Duty At What Cost?

by Michelle Conder

  She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected his curt tone. ‘Unlike your men, I don’t take orders from you.’

  Wolfe widened his stance in a purely dominant move he knew she hadn’t missed. ‘We have yet to establish your real identity, so you either get on that horse or I’ll use one of these reins to bind your hands and drag you behind.’

  ‘I’d like to see you try,’ she invited him coolly.

  He couldn’t believe this posh piece of work was calling his bluff. ‘Would you, now?’

  She balled her hands on her hips and drew his sight to her slender curves. Not a clever move in his currently cantankerous state of combined anger and arousal. Of course he wouldn’t drag her, but he’d subdue her and throw her over his saddle.

  He saw the moment she realised his threat wasn’t entirely idle.

  ‘Only men with very small appendages play the tough guy.’

  ‘And only women who are incredibly stupid challenge a man they’ve never met to prove his masculinity. Fortunately for you, I don’t feel the least threatened to prove myself by shrewish females.’

  ‘What can I say?’ She cocked her hip towards him insolently. ‘You bring out the best in me.’

  Wolfe breathed deep at her intentionally provocative manner. ‘I’m sure that’s very far from your best, Princess,’ he drawled.

  Her brows slowly rose and Wolfe realised he’d inadvertently revealed how attractive he found her. No doubt it was something she was used to and, like all women in his experience, would take absolute advantage of it given half the chance.

  Something he didn’t plan to do.

  Aggravated by his one-track mind, he was about to end her rebellious stance by physically dumping her onto the horse when his phone rang.

  ‘We found the car, boss. She’s legit. Her purse must have been thrown from her bag because it was lodged under the front seat.’

  Wolfe grunted a reply and told his men to meet him at the cottage.

  He looked up in time to catch her superior expression and knew that she’d overheard his conversation. ‘Seems you are who you say you are. Next time use the gate.’ He brought Achilles alongside her and grabbed the stirrup. ‘Give me your leg.’

  ‘You’re not even going to apologise?’

  Her tone spoke of generations of superiority that made any apology Wolfe might have given die on his lips.

  ‘Your leg?’ he repeated, his eyes cool and guarded against the fire pouring out of hers.

  Moving forward, she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, caught her heel on a rock and pitched straight into his arms.

  Already highly sensitised to her touch, and not sure if the move had been deliberate, to throw him off balance, Wolfe immediately set her away from him. ‘And don’t try using that sexy little body to garner any favours, Princess.’

  ‘Trust me when I say that touching you is the last thing I would want to do.’

  She presented him with her stiff back, gathered the reins up in one hand and stamped her foot into his hand. Wolfe didn’t know whether to be amused by her or angered, and perhaps if he hadn’t been about to head off after Gilles’s wedding to oversee an important software installation he might have hung around to test her lofty challenge. But he was, and he wasn’t stupid enough to get involved with another highly strung female.

  ‘Shift back,’ he grated. No way was she riding in front, where she would be cradled between his hard thighs.

  ‘You know, all that masculine muttering is entirely uncalled for. You are unquestionably the most irritating individual I have ever had the misfortune to come across.’

  Wolfe was just about to tell her the feeling was entirely mutual when she twisted the reins out of his slack hold and dug her heels into Achilles’s side. The horse responded like the thoroughbred it was and sprang into an instant gallop.

  Wolfe couldn’t believe it!

  Not only had the little spitfire turned him on just by breathing, she had completely got the better of him. Neither of which had happened to him in... It had never happened before!

  ‘Dammit!’

  Cursing under his breath, Wolfe whistled sharply. If Gilles had trained his animals correctly the horse should come to a complete stop.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ONE MINUTE AVA was flying across the uneven ground with breathless speed and the next she wasn’t moving at all. The horse did little more than twitch its majestic tail as she tried to urge him forward. By the time she worked out what had happened the overbearing inbecile was almost upon her.

  ‘Come on, horse. Do not listen to him. He is nobody.’

  ‘You look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but you’re a bossy little thing aren’t you, Princess?’

  ‘You are so arrogant.’

  He settled his hands on his hips. ‘That’s rich, coming from you.’

  ‘I am not arrogant,’ she said in a voice that would have made her father proud. ‘I am confident. There is a difference.’

  He had the gall to laugh. ‘And the difference would fit inside a flea’s arse.’

  Ava used her sweetest voice to call him a foul name in French, knowing he probably wouldn’t understand her.

  He shook his head and tsked. ‘Temper, temper.’ His gaze lifted to her hair. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say there was a red streak running through that glossy mane of yours.’

  A chauvinist. How original. ‘I suppose you think I should be flattered you didn’t say blond?’

  ‘No, I would never confuse you with a blonde,’ he said with mock seriousness. ‘I like blondes.’

  ‘Then I do consider myself flattered!’

  She thought about flicking the reins to try and ride off again, but he read her mind and his jaw clenched. ‘I don’t make the same mistakes twice. Shift back.’

  Ava noticed how big the hand was that gripped the reins and instantly recalled how they had felt on her body as he’d caught her. Once again her pelvis clenched, sending delicious ripples of sensation through her whole body. Surprised, and a little breathless, she berated herself for the physical reaction. He was Neanderthal man two million-odd years later, his blood supply no doubt taken up by all the muscles in his body instead of his head, where he needed it most.

  He moved a small handgun out from under the back of his shirt and tucked it inside his boot, and she felt another traitorous thrill shoot straight to her core. Peevishly she hoped the gun went off and shot him in the foot.

  ‘I’m sure many women get turned on by your barbaric tactics, but I can assure you I am not one of them.’

  ‘Good to know.’ He stroked the horse’s neck in long, smooth sweeps. ‘Since I’m not trying to turn you on.’

  His eyes glittered up at her and made her heart pump just that little bit faster. Lord, she hoped he didn’t know she was lying, because she shouldn’t find this uncultured beast of a man so attractive.

  Grabbing the pommel, he fitted his foot into the stirrup. ‘Now, you can ride up in front between my legs if you want to, Princess. Who knows? It might be fun.’

  Ava quickly scooted back and ground her teeth together when he gave a low, sexy laugh. His voice was rich and totally indolent, as if he was always thinking of ways to pleasure a woman.

  He swung easily onto the great horse, his large frame filling the saddle. The horse shifted as it readjusted to take their weight. ‘You might want to hang on.’ He shot over his shoulder, drawing up the reins.

  ‘I am.’

  He glanced to where her hands gripped the saddle blanket before raising his eyes back to hers. Ava drew in a sharp breath at the impact.

  ‘I meant to me.’

  Ava had no intention of holding on to him. ‘Dream on.’

  He gave a half smile, as if he might do exactly that, clenched his powerful thighs, and the horse sprang forwards as if it had nothing more than a child on its back.

  Instinctively Ava clutched at his shirt and found herself plastered up against the back of him. He was hard! And hot! Unable
to help herself, she widened her fingers over his abdominal muscles as if she needed to do so to prevent herself from falling off. Colyn had always bemoaned the fact that she wasn’t tactile enough for him, but right now she could barely resist the urge to explore this stranger’s muscular physique. She thought she heard him blow out a hard breath and, slightly embarrassed at her temerity, quickly moved her fingers to his narrow hips. The roll of muscle there told her that he worked out. A lot.

  Fortunately it took no time for the spirited stallion to make it to the main buildings. Unfortunately it was still long enough for the friction from the saddle and his body to make the space between her legs feel soft and moist.

  Mon Dieu.

  Yes, it had been a long time since she had been intimate with a man, but this one was so not her type...

  Focusing on her surroundings, instead of the man she could feel with every cell of her body, she realised they weren’t at the stables but at one of the side entrances to the main building.

  About to ask what they were doing there, she stopped when he twisted around in the saddle, grabbed her under her arm and effortlessly lifted her off the horse. Ava felt the slide of his thigh all the way down her body and closed her eyes briefly to block out the rush of heat coursing through her. When her feet finally touched the ground she locked her knees to take her weight and had to force herself to push away from his heat.

  ‘Any time you want to learn how to fly again, Princess, you just call me, okay?’

  Ava curled her lip, but before she could come up with a pithy retort he had dug his heels into the stallion and was gone.

  Thank God. It would take two top-of-the-line masseurs to work the tension out of her back after that!

  ‘Ma’am? Are you lost?’

  A footman materialised at her side, and it was only then that Ava registered that her ‘captor’ had set her down in a private part of the castle, far from the prying eyes of arriving guests. It was probably more because he was used to using the servants’ entrance than out of any actual consideration for her, but even as she had the ungrateful thought she had a feeling she was wrong.

  * * *

  Wolfe stood on the lime-green lawn at the side of the white marquee set up as a servers’ area under the shade of a weeping willow. He wasn’t on duty, but his eyes scanned the throng of wedding guests holding sparkling glasses of wine and champagne and recapping the beautiful service they had just witnessed.

  The men mostly wore classic morning suits, as he did, and the women were tastefully attired in afternoon dresses and sunhats. Later, at the evening reception, they would all change into their ballroom best.

  It was only when his eyes finally found the Princess, in a small cluster of women waiting to talk to the bride, that he realised he’d been searching for her.

  He cursed under his breath. His reaction to her was annoyingly primal. And annoyingly still present. The problem, he decided as he studied her, was that she had an element of the conquest about her. All that snooty standoffishness combined with her natural beauty was like a summons to any man who had red blood pumping through his veins. But while he enjoyed a challenge—possibly more than most men—some inner sense of self-preservation warned him to keep his distance.

  He had very firm rules when it came to women and he never deviated from them. Keep it short, keep it sweet and, most importantly, keep it simple. This posh princess had complicated written all over her pretty face.

  He’d seen enough relationships fall apart to last him a lifetime, and while logically he knew not all couples ended up on the scrap heap he wasn’t prepared to take the chance. It was probably the only risk he wasn’t willing to take, because when it all went pear-shaped the fall-out was usually devastating.

  ‘I know that face. You’re brooding about something.’

  Wolfe glanced at Gilles, who had ambled up with two glasses of champagne in his hands. Wolfe took one and smiled. ‘Just enjoying the frivolities.’

  Gilles gave him a droll look. Previously they had both bemoaned any wedding they’d been forced to attend. ‘I thought you were bringing someone with you today?’

  Wolfe took a sip and tried not to wince as the warming liquid pooled in his mouth. ‘Not while I’m working.’

  Gilles lowered his own glass, amusement dancing in his eyes. ‘She dumped you?’

  Wolfe recalled the look on Astrid’s angry face when he’d told her he wouldn’t be seeing her again. ‘Yep.’

  ‘In...’ Gilles glanced at his watch ‘...how many hours?’

  Wolfe chuckled. He’d enjoyed Astrid’s company for five busy nights while he was working in Vienna a month ago, and she had enjoyed his. When he’d tried to say goodbye she’d kicked up a stink. Accused him of using her. Wolfe’s anger had surfaced then. He knew he had a name for being a heartless womaniser but he was simply honest. He didn’t see the point in beating around the bush and pretending to feel things he didn’t. And nor did he sleep with as many women as his reputation would suggest. He wouldn’t have any time left over for work if he did.

  ‘What can I say? She was one of the smart ones.’

  Wolfe waited for his friend to start up another good-natured lecture about settling down. Anne, it seemed, had reformed the once bad-boy Marquis to the point where Wolfe now almost preferred her company to his.

  ‘Well, that works out well for me.’

  ‘It does?’

  Gilles chuckled. ‘Don’t look so relieved. I wasn’t about to try and reform the unreformable.’

  ‘Thank God.’

  ‘But I do need a favour.’

  Favours Wolfe could do.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘There’s a girl I need you to keep your eye on tonight at the reception.’

  Wolfe didn’t exactly look at the sky, but he came close. ‘Friend of Anne’s, by chance?’

  ‘Yes, actually. But, no, I’m not trying to set you up, you suspicious clod. She’s the woman my father wanted me to marry.’

  Gilles’s words sparked a distant memory of a late-night chat from years back that Wolfe had completely forgotten about. He took another pull of his drink and wished it was beer in an icy bottle instead of champagne in a tepid glass. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Years ago my father and hers came to the decision that we would forge a strong union if we married when we came of age.’

  ‘I think you “came of age” about ten years ago, my friend, and isn’t that a little last century?’

  Gilles’s mouth twisted into an ironic smile. ‘You’ve met my father. Hers is worse. Anyway, the media have done a good job beating some life into the old story this past week, playing up the whole jilted fiancée thing, and Anne said it’s been a bit rough on her.’

  Wolfe knew what it felt like to be talked about behind his back. Even if the people in the small town he’d grown up in had been doing so out of sympathy rather than slander. At least for him and his brother, at any rate. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he asked suspiciously.

  Gilles scoffed. ‘Nothing. But I don’t want you to sleep with her. Actually, I’d be downright angry if you did. She’s gorgeous, and way too good for you. I just want you to keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s having a good time.’

  ‘Who is she?’ he asked, premonition snaking down his spine.

  ‘See the woman talking to Anne now?’

  Wolfe didn’t have to look to know it was the Princess from the wall and he nearly groaned. Anyone but her. But at least now it made sense why she had been so familiar with the estate. They were family friends.

  Wolfe turned his back on the woman he was intent on avoiding for the rest of his life. ‘I’m sure she can take care of herself.’

  Gilles gave him a quizzical look and Wolfe cursed his curt tone. He had nothing against the Princess, really. Except for the fact that she’d occupied his mind all afternoon and made him want to push her sweet skirt up around her waist and take her up against the nearest hundred-year-old oak. He definitely didn’t want to find o
ut that Gilles had once been with her. Had they been lovers? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

  ‘I’m sure she will, too, but as she’s attending the wedding alone I thought you could keep your eye on her for me. You know—ask her to dance, make sure she has a drink.’

  Today he’d been mistaken for a rescue service, a gardener and now... ‘You’ve got waiters for that, and I’m not a damned babysitter.’

  Gilles’s eyebrows shot up, but before he could say anything his new wife stepped around Wolfe and curled her arm through Gilles’s. ‘Babysitting who?’

  Her green eyes met Wolfe’s speculatively and Wolfe saw Gilles’s eyes fall guiltily on someone behind him.

  ‘I hope you do not mean me, Gilles?’ Ava’s tone was as lyrical and as superior as Wolfe remembered it.

  Gilles stepped forward and kissed both her cheeks. ‘Ava, you look as beautiful as ever.’

  ‘I can see that you do mean me,’ she berated lightly. ‘And I can assure you I do not need babysitting.’

  Her eyes briefly cut to Wolfe’s with such aloof disdain it made him want to smile. He remembered her hands splayed over the ridges of his abdominal muscles as she’d clung to him on the horse. She might not like him very much, but he knew dislike wasn’t the only emotion she felt.

  ‘Of course you don’t, ma petite.’ Gilles humoured her. ‘Now, let me introduce you to Wolfe, a good friend of mine.’

  Unable to prevent himself from ruffling her regal feathers, Wolfe tilted his head. ‘We’ve met. How’s the head?’ His eyes drifted to the wide-brimmed hat, tilted to one side to conceal the bruise on her forehead. The pale pink exactly matched a flirty two-piece suit that followed the line of her curves all the way to her perfectly shaped calves and slender ankles.

  Exceptional legs, he thought, his gaze trekking slowly back up to her face.

  She arched a brow that told him she hadn’t taken kindly to his once-over, or to the implied intimacy in his tone.

  ‘You know each other?’ Gilles regarded Ava in surprise.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh?’ Gilles cut his curious gaze back to Wolfe.

  ‘Shall I tell him, or do you want to?’ Wolfe drawled.