Rachel Van Dyken

by The Wolfs Pursuit

  Dreaming. He truly was dreaming. Gwen would rather seduce a cactus than him. He laughed bitterly at the joke and shook his head. “Right, and I’m Saint Peter.”

  Gwen poked him in the chest. “No, you’re the devil himself! How dare you tell my brother-in-law that I tried to seduce you! And then keep me imprisoned in my own house! And then…” Gwen reeled back. “Why are you wearing different clothes, and why the devil is your hair longer?”

  “That’s what I said,” Montmouth grumbled, and scratched his head. “Will someone please tell me what the blazes is going on?”

  Gwen examined Hunter.

  Hunter, possibly a little too excited to see her alive and breathing, did the first thing he could think of. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  In front of Montmouth, God, and everyone.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Wolf—

  So you desire to know what I’m doing when I read these notes? I should think that the burning hole in the middle of this correspondence should suffice. To be quite honest, I read the note, offer my reply, then pull out my pistol and shoot it. But for some reason, the agitation and irritation do not leave me. You’re like a plague; therefore, I burn every note. And while I watch the flames, do you know what I do? I smile.

  —Red

  Hunter’s lips were firm against hers. Heat enveloped her body as he tugged her forcefully against him. Hands dipped into her hair causing a nervous fluttering in her belly.

  His tongue slipped into her mouth.

  His kiss, unlike previous kisses, was so tender, she fought the urge to gasp from the shock of it all.

  With her heart beating erratically, she wrapped herself around his body, allowing her breasts to press against his firm chest.

  “What the devil!” Montmouth shouted, pulling them apart, but Hunter just reached for her over Montmouth’s hands, as if losing her touch was such a painful idea that he could no more release her than stop breathing.

  “Do you mind!” Montmouth shouted again, this time punching Hunter in the stomach. Hunter doubled over, but as he fell, his hand reached out yet again toward Gwen.

  She took it and held on. Much to the shock of the entire family, who stood with mouths gaping open, as if she had taken complete leave of her senses.

  “Cease from touching one another!” Montmouth grumbled. “Now tell me what the blazes is going on before I lose my mind!”

  “I cannot.” Hunter straightened to his full height. “Up until a few minutes ago, I thought I was dreaming.”

  “Yes, well, up until a few minutes ago, I was considering allowing you to live.” Montmouth narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Now, explain why you would accuse Gwen of seducing you, leave, then return and pretend to have not been here. Everyone saw you. Saints alive! I spoke to you! Now, unless you have an identical twin waltzing around, you’d better explain. Now.”

  Gwen watched the color drain completely from Hunter’s face. “Impossible.” He paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair. “It cannot be. He is dead, or presumed dead! He disappeared the day she died, the day…” Hunter began to shake. “I think I need a drink.”

  “Would that make you feel better, then?” Montmouth asked.

  “Immensely.”

  “Rosalind, hide the whiskey. Oh, and do send a note to Dominique. It seems we are to have a duel.”

  “A duel?” Gwen gasped. “Whatever for?”

  “He kissed you.” Montmouth shrugged.

  “So you plan to shoot him?”

  “My dear, I see no other option.”

  “Than death?”

  Montmouth shrugged. The man shrugged! As if killing Hunter was the same as stepping on an ant!

  “You cannot simply shoot him because he kissed me! Besides it wasn’t even the first time!”

  Rosalind gasped. Montmouth’s face turned an interesting shade of purple, and though Hunter still appeared pale, a smug grin appeared on his face. Rogue.

  “I’ll kill him where he stands,” Montmouth announced, eyes narrowing as he purposefully stepped toward Hunter.

  Hunter, deciding against bravery, scooted over and stood behind Gwen. “I believe if you hear all of the facts, then you will be less likely to shoot me. Besides, I’ve already been shot once this week.”

  Gwen nodded. “True, he has been shot, but that was after I broke his nose.”

  “Not helping,” Hunter murmured behind her.

  “Five minutes.” Montmouth held up his hand. “You have five minutes to explain before I lose my mind and shoot Hunter on irritation alone.”

  Gwen could feel the heat of Hunter as he stood behind her. His breath tickled her neck. She wanted nothing more than to lean against him and close her eyes. What was happening to her? She was supposed to be his partner. She refused to become attached to the type of man who would rather stare at himself in the mirror and smile than give any part of himself to a woman.

  “I am not necessarily, er, retired.” Hunter walked around Gwen and approached Montmouth, hands raised in surrender. “However, it would be best for us to continue this conversation in the privacy of your study.”

  Montmouth sighed and led the way. Hunter followed. Rosalind linked her arm within Gwen’s as they trailed behind the men.

  Montmouth turned, starting to close the doors in front of the women’s faces, but Gwen held her foot out, blocking it. “I think not. After all, I do not trust you alone with him. Who knows? You may slip and accidently shoot your pistol.”

  Curses exploded out of Montmouth’s mouth. He looked to Rosalind as if to say, “Help!” but she merely tilted her head as if to say, “Give me a reason to slap you.”

  He held the door open wide for them to enter.

  “You have ten minutes before I accidentally—” Monmouth glared at Gwen. “What did you say before? Oh, yes, before my finger accidentally slips on the trigger of my pistol.”

  Hunter looked at Gwen and winked. “I only need five.”

  Montmouth cursed. “I was discussing your story, not your speed at seduction.”

  “Apologies.” Hunter nodded and gave Gwen another grin. Heavens, she felt heated all over. She fanned her face, much to Hunter’s amusement.

  He cleared his throat. “I came here to tell you Gwen had died.”

  “Clearly she lives,” Montmouth spat.

  “Are you planning on interrupting me the entire time?”

  “Sorry.”

  Hunter took a seat. “An hour ago, I was not at your residence, but speaking with my grandfather. He has been helping me with a current assignment. As I said, I am not truly retired, at least not yet.” Hunter sighed. “I went directly from our meeting to the park to save Gwen. I had reason to believe she was in danger. It seems Redding may have gotten himself into a bit of trouble, and she was to be with him on her walk. The minute I arrived, I tried to locate him, but was too late. For the minute his carriage began to drive away, it exploded.”

  Gwen gasped. “Is he alright?”

  Hunter shook his head slowly from left to right. “I highly doubt there are any survivors. There was debris everywhere. Whoever placed the explosives did a deuced good job. I admit to being so…” his voice cracked, “upset, that I came here straightaway to deliver the news.”

  “Then explain the so-called twin who was here earlier. By the saints, he even acted exactly like you!” Montmouth shook his head in confusion and cursed again.

  Gwen smiled to herself and whispered, “He did not smell the same.”

  “What was that?” Montmouth asked.

  “Nothing.” She looked to Hunter, and his eyes brightened. She wanted to touch him, to feel his lips on hers again. Was that why he’d kissed her? He’d thought she was some sort of ghost? Or were his true feelings finally showing through, since he’d thought he had lost her?

  “I have a twin.” Hunter cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest. “But up until a few minutes ago, I thought him dead. I don’t suppose h
e left a way to contact him?” Mask slipping, Hunter appeared eager to see his brother. It pained her heart to be of no help.

  Gwen shook her head. “I am sorry, Hunter. I truly thought it was you. I did not think to ask, and I believe if I would have, he would have merely given me your information.”

  “Right.” Hunter cursed. “Why would he appear here? Now? What did he say to you?”

  Gwen felt herself turn red with both embarrassment and anger. “He accused me of trying to seduce him.”

  Hunter laughed.

  Of course he laughed. The cad. “Apologies, Gwen. It is just that, well, you would not know how to seduce a man if he begged you.”

  “Care to give it a try?” she countered, stepping toward him, ready to rip his tight jacket straight from his body to prove a point. And to feel his lips on hers again, but first she would strangle him, of course.

  “Easy.” Montmouth placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you do not care to witness his death, you will cease from taking another step.”

  She took another step.

  Hunter grinned wolfishly then beckoned her with his finger.

  Montmouth turned his head just in time to see Hunter make the gesture and cursed. “It is like herding children! Must I separate you two?”

  “If you must.” Hunter relaxed into the chair. “But know that it only makes finding her that much more… rewarding.”

  Gwen scowled and began searching for a weapon. If she could not prove her point, she would simply force him to admit she was just as skilled as he. Besides, she knew how attached he was to that handsome face of his. All she needed was a knife, a dagger, a rusty nail…

  “Am I to understand that my dead brother resurrected himself, somehow read the code that was safely in my grandfather’s possession, pretended to be me, and then accused our dear innocent Gwen of taking advantage?”

  “Yes, that sounds right,” Gwen said through clenched teeth. “Though it pains me to admit there are two of you in this world.”

  “Clearly our masculinity offends you.”

  “Your entire being offends me, Wolf.”

  “Have a care what you say… Red.”

  “Pet names?” Montmouth sputtered. “You have pet names for one another?”

  Hunter shrugged.

  Gwen refused to take her eyes away from his. If he was going to be difficult, then she was going to be the thorn in his side. He winked and licked his lips as if he were staring at a tasty morsel.

  “…After all, it pains me to admit there is just nothing more that can be done,” Montmouth said. Had he been talking? Blast. Why did Hunter have to have such plump lips? And beautiful eyes, truly beautiful. Not the type that looked feminine in any way, but dangerous — mystical even. His grin set his eyes off, adding a spark of mischief and wickedness.

  “…I believe the end of the week will suffice. Do you agree, Gwen?”

  What was Montmouth asking?

  Hunter raised his eyebrow, no doubt waiting for her to ask her brother-in-law to repeat his statement. Not wanting to look stupid, she merely nodded. “I could not agree more.”

  “Really?” Montmouth and Rosalind said in unison.

  She looked to Hunter for help. But it was as if he had suddenly discovered he had hands, for all the intensity with which he was staring at them.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Montmouth was silent for a while and then scratched his head. “Well, in that case, I should see to making the proper arrangements. Come along, Rosalind. They should probably have a moment alone to speak. Though I will place your maid at the door. You have at least earned a few minutes for being so amiable after everything, my dear.”

  He walked over and kissed her forehead before leading Rosalind out of the room and closing the door behind him.

  Hunter burst out laughing. “Tell me, Red, do you have any idea what you’ve just agreed to?”

  “Of course.”

  “Truly?” His voice was suddenly in her ear. She quickly turned around and glared.

  “Yes!”

  “So stubborn.” His eyes raked her from head to toe. “I like that in my… women.”

  “Women.” Gwen snorted. “Typical. You would pluralize that statement. We all know your interest lies with several, not just one.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” His smile disappeared as his golden eyes flickered to her lips. “I imagine there is one specific woman I very much desire to taste again.” His hand cupped her face as his thumb rubbed her lower lip and then his mouth was on hers.

  Previous irritation with the man faded as his lips worked against hers. His hands caressed her neck and moved further down. She trembled against his touch as the warmth of his tongue singed her.

  Too soon, Hunter pulled back. “What shall we tell Wilkins?”

  “About Redding?” she whispered hoarsely, leaning shamelessly closer to him, craving the touch of his lips more than her next breath.

  He kissed her softly, this time trailing his tongue along her lower lip before coaxing her head against his and wrapping his arms around her.

  She moaned into his mouth.

  He retreated and chuckled softly. “No, Red. About our marriage.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Red—

  So I irritate you? Is that it? At least I invoke some sort of strong emotion within you. Though I swear to you, by the end of the Season you will be begging for my kiss, longing for my touch, and if you are lucky, I may just give you exactly what your body burns for. And more. Now, you may shoot this letter out of anger; you may burn it out of pride. But tell me, what will you dream of when you close your eyes? That’s what I thought. Sweet dreams, Little Red…

  —Wolf

  Her kiss ignited something long dead within him. It had always been that way with Gwen, absolutely explosive. As if they could not have a normal conversation without pulling out some sort of weapons, and when they were not fighting, they were flirting. Whether it be with their words or their actions. It was impossible to quit the woman.

  Now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to.

  But marriage? It would be a cold day in Hades.

  He’d tried that once. And failed miserably. Though he hadn’t the heart to embarrass her in front of her family. He would simply allow her to cry off. No doubt she would have a fit when she heard the news, but her lips were so blasted tempting, and he had thought her dead.

  So he’d kissed her.

  And now, the look on her face, one of pure horror and not elation, made his decision all the more simple. After all, marriage was impossible for a man who’d lost the other half of his soul long ago.

  “Marriage?” she repeated, taking a step back.

  “But of course!” He laughed. “You agreed to it. I was here. I would know. By the by, you were also present. Wonder what you found so blasted distracting?” He brought his hand to her face and then trailed it down her neck, stopping just above her breasts.

  She slapped it away. “I must think, and I cannot do that when you are…”

  “Seducing you? Kissing you? Touching, begging, biting, tasting…”

  “Breathing!” she yelled and pushed against him, but he held her firmly in his embrace.

  “Never worry, my dear, all you need to do is cry off. It will not be so hard. Standing up to that giant of a duke will be good for you. Yes?”

  “But…” Gwen chewed her lower lip. Blast, how he hated it when she did that. It made him want to kiss her more, and if he kissed her more he might just change his mind about marriage.

  Sharing her bed every night was a temptation of gigantic proportions, and he was still a man. A broken one, at that.

  “No.” Gwen shook her head. “I cannot do it.”

  “My thoughts precisely. We cannot marry.” Hunter should feel glad that she agreed with him, but instead felt nothing but emptiness. It was as if she had died all over again.

  He released her and stumbled back, fighting with every ounce of strength he had
left to look happy when inside he was slowly crumbling into dust.

  He tried to smile again, but he felt it did not reach his eyes. He laughed mockingly at himself, cursed, and turned around. Where the devil was his mask when he needed it most?

  “You misunderstand me, Hunter.” Gwen took a step toward him and lightly touched his arm. “We must marry.”

  He looked down at her delicate fingers as if they burned a hole of desire straight through his jacket. “We cannot.”

  “It is the right thing to do. Be reasonable! You have kissed me quite soundly in front of our entire staff. Not to mention my sister and brother.”

  “A secret.” His voice shook. “We could keep it a secret. Pay off the staff…”

  “And lose your honor in the process?” Gwen tilted her head. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said we had crossed so many lines already?” The minx brought her hand up to her dress and pulled the sleeve down.

  What the devil was she doing?

  She smirked. “We are attracted to one another, that much is true.”

  His eyes never left the exposed skin of her shoulder as it radiated promises of velvet smoothness and desire.

  “And…” She reached to her other sleeve and tugged it down. “It will allow us to work more closely together. After all, your brother has risen from the dead, yet is still missing. You are being shot at, and for all we know, Redding is dead as well.”

  The woman had a point. Besides, if he married her, she would be under his watch, which also meant she would be under his care. She would want things. Things like children, and a happy home — his soul.

  Yet he had nothing to offer her but his protection.

  Perhaps that would be enough. It would have to be.

  Gwen reached for him and placed her hands on his chest. “It is a brilliant idea.”

  He closed his eyes and moaned. “It is an attraction. Are you willing to base a marriage on that alone?” Even as he said it, he knew it was much more, but he wasn’t willing to speak it aloud, lest his worst fears became realized. That he had fallen again, and this time, there was nothing to catch him but the cold, hard ground. Because in the end, he would not be enough. He would fail, and he hated to think of what would happen when he did.