How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  She closed her eyes briefly as she turned away.

  Interesting. Had he touched a nerve? “The way I see it, there’s no reason for you to be angry. I, on the other hand, have ample reason. I came here to introduce myself and found you kissing another man.”

  “I wasn’t kissing him.”

  “His mouth was on yours.”

  She turned back toward him, her eyes glittering with emotion. “I didn’t ask for it. Nor did I participate. If you were truly observant, you would have noticed I was shoving and kicking at him.”

  “Then you’re not in love with him?”

  “No! I can’t stand the man!”

  Leo smiled. “Excellent.”

  She gave him a wry look. “I didn’t say that to please you. It was simply the truth.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think we’ll do very well as long as we remain honest with each other.”

  She snorted. “Why did you invade my room in the tower and nearly frighten me to death? I thought you’d come to kill me!”

  “I thought you would be asleep.”

  “You could have introduced yourself then.”

  “And you would have been even more frightened. You told me in confession you’re afraid of your betrothed.”

  With a wince, she lowered her gaze to his gloved hands. “Am I wrong to fear you? Does your touch really … kill people?”

  His hands curled into fists. He’d been a fool to think he’d enjoy this duel. It was a fight he couldn’t win. “As long as I wear gloves and touch only your clothing, you should be safe. Leather and several layers of fabric normally serve as a protective barrier.”

  “And if you take the gloves off?”

  His chest tightened. “My power is very strong right now. And mostly concentrated in my hands. If my bare hand touches your clothes, you could lose consciousness. If my bare hand touches your skin, my power would instantly transfer to you. It would … kill you.”

  She inhaled sharply, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. “The king wants me dead, so he can take my inheritance. Are you part of that plan? Do you intend to marry me just to kill me?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Actually, we have a sad thing in common. The king wants me dead, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “But why? He’s your family.”

  “He’s my uncle, but he’s so paranoid, he doesn’t trust anyone. He even had his son, Tedric, banished from court. As for me, he named me Lord Protector at the age of nineteen, hoping I would die in battle. He successfully got rid of my father, his younger brother, that way. And then I’m also Embraced, so I have a power Frederic doesn’t have, and that angers him no end. He’s tried several times to assassinate me over the years.”

  “That’s … terrible.”

  “You needn’t worry. I’ll do my best to never harm you, and I’ll protect you from the king.” He rested a hand over his heart. “This I swear on my mother’s grave.”

  With a wince, she eased away from him. “I-I heard…”

  “What? What did you hear?”

  With a deep breath, she visibly rallied her courage and looked him in the eye. “That you killed your mother.”

  He jolted back a step. “What? Who … who would say that?” He turned away, dragging a gloved hand through his hair. This had to be the king’s doing. Uncle Fred wanted the people of Eberon to fear the Beast, so the king habitually started ugly rumors about his nephew. Frederic was so afraid Leo would rebel that he’d warned him repeatedly. If Leo ever marched on the royal court with the army, the king would have his personal guard murder every woman and child in the town of Ebton.

  “It’s not true?” Tatiana asked, watching him carefully.

  Leo shook his head. “When my father died in battle, the king sent assassins to kill me. My mother flung herself in front of me. She took the sword meant for me.” He closed his eyes briefly, then scoffed. “I suppose you could say I was responsible.”

  “No.” Tatiana regarded him sadly. “How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  “You were a child.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t ye dare say ye were responsible.”

  His heart squeezed in his chest. “You believe me?”

  She brushed a tear away and nodded. “You had the most horrified look on your face. I felt the same way when someone told me I killed my mother.”

  His hands fisted. “Who would tell you something like that?”

  “My mother died after giving birth to me.”

  “No one should blame an innocent babe for that. It’s ridiculous.”

  Her eyes glistened with more tears. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  “We have something else in common then.” He took a deep breath. “Do you think you can trust me?”

  “I’m trying to. I figure you could have hurt me in the chapel or when you sneaked into my room, but you didn’t.”

  “That’s right.” Thank the Light she seemed to understand his good intentions. He walked over to the chairs in front of the hearth. “Let’s sit for a while so we can discuss the marriage.”

  She shook her head. “How can we possibly be married?”

  Shit. But he shouldn’t be surprised. What woman in her right mind would want to marry a Beast? “We have no choice in the matter. The king has decreed—”

  “But it won’t be a marriage!” Another tear fell down her cheek. “Ye cannot be a husband. Not when ye can never touch me self!”

  He froze, so stunned that his brain refused to work for a few seconds. Did this mean she actually wanted him to touch her? And what had happened to her accent? “Me self?”

  With a gasp, she pressed her hands against her face.

  “I-I must have spent too much time on the Isle of Moon recuperating.”

  He frowned. It couldn’t have been more than two weeks. He stepped toward her. “Tatiana—”

  “I-I can’t do this now.” She shook her head. “I just found out who you are. It’s happening too fast.” She ran to the door.

  He let her go. Heard the door slam shut. Dammit. How could he win her heart when he was a danger to her? And why had her accent changed when she’d become upset?

  * * *

  “My dear child, you’re trembling.” The duke led Luciana toward the big armchairs in front of the hearth. “Come and relax by the fire.”

  Too upset to sit, Luciana began to pace. Jensen had escorted her to the library, claiming her father wished to see her. She’d been too distraught to disagree or even reply. How could she have let her accent slip? And the Lord Protector had noticed! Her heart thudded in her chest. Had he accepted her flimsy excuse?

  She pressed a hand against her pounding heart. He’d still called her Tatiana. He couldn’t suspect. Why would anyone suspect? No one knew Tatiana had a twin sister. She was safe. She had to be.

  Taking deep breaths, she attempted to calm herself. It wasn’t easy, though. Everything was happening too fast. It had been only two weeks and two days since she’d met her father. During that time, she’d focused most of her energy on successfully pretending to be her sister. She’d worried about her betrothal to the Beast, but it had been a vague and ominous thing in the future.

  But now, the time had come. From now on, the deception would require she do much more than speak like her sister or wear her sister’s gowns. It was she, Luciana, who would become the Lord Protector’s wife. It was she who would risk death by being close to him. And every time he called her by her sister’s name, she would be reminded that she was living a lie.

  Red and black. The Telling Stones were still mocking her. Two weeks after her prediction, she had met a tall and handsome stranger. Red hair and a black horse. And each time she’d seen him, she’d fallen deeper for him.

  Should she rejoice that she was marrying the man of her dreams? Or should she mourn that the marriage would never be real? He would never know he was marrying Luciana. And he could never touch her. Or kiss her. She’d never have
children. In order to keep her deception a secret, she’d never be able to see her sisters again.

  She brushed away her tears as she continued to pace. This was not the time to feel sorry for herself. She needed to be strong. And alert. So she wouldn’t make a mistake with her speech again.

  The library was the most wondrous place in the entire castle. Two stories tall, it took up the top two floors of the keep and half of the eastern side of the square-shaped castle. The huge cavern of a room housed over a thousand books, and the sight and smell of them reminded her of home and the workroom at the convent.

  She paused in the middle of the room and closed her eyes, letting the scent of books surround like a warm, peaceful cocoon. Knowledge is the true power, her father had told her when he’d first shown her this room. And wisdom is knowing when to use it. Or when not to.

  She had more knowledge now. She knew the king wanted to kill her and her father. She knew her betrothed could kill her by simply touching her. He claimed he would never hurt her, and she was inclined to trust him. In her heart, she wanted to.

  A prick of shame needled her. Trust worked both ways. Why should he ever trust her when she was deceiving him?

  To be honest with herself, she’d been attracted to him from the moment she first saw him. But she had to also admit that his strange power was frightening. What she needed now was the wisdom to make the right decisions without letting fear or attraction cloud her judgment.

  “Feeling better?” her father asked softly.

  She nodded. “A little.”

  He strolled to the sideboard and poured wine into two goblets. “I gather you met Leo.”

  “Leo?”

  “Leofric of Benwick. He asked me to call him Leo.” The duke smiled. “He seemed very friendly and down to earth. None of the arrogance of his uncle, the king.”

  So Father approved of her betrothed? Luciana strode toward the sideboard. “He admitted his touch can kill.”

  “Without his gloves, yes, so he’s very careful. We had a long talk, and he explained a great deal to me. He’s Embraced, and his gift is…” The duke shook his head. “I can’t imagine having to live with something that horrendous.”

  She winced. “How does his gift work?”

  With a frown, her father passed her a goblet. “He described it to me briefly. Whenever lightning strikes him, it fills him—”

  “What?” Her hand trembled so badly she set the goblet down. “He’s been struck by lightning?”

  “Repeatedly. Since the age of five. He said there was no escape from it.”

  Her heart squeezed in her chest. By the goddesses, the pain he must have endured over the years.

  “Remember the storm on the Isle of Moon?” the duke asked. “When it passed to the mainland, he was struck by lightning. So he is full of power right now.”

  He’d mentioned that his power was strong. And she recalled how she’d felt the energy emanating from him in the tower room. No wonder he could do things other men could not. “He retains power from lightning?”

  Her father nodded. “He harnesses it. The power makes him incredibly fast and strong. He can attract or repel metal objects, and he can shoot lightning bolts from his fingers.”

  She swallowed hard, recalling his admission that his touch could kill her.

  “Leo assured me that he knows how dangerous he is,” her father continued. “Even with his gloves on, when his power is this high, if he touches someone’s skin they can possibly receive a shock or, worse, lose consciousness. That’s why he rarely ever touches anyone.”

  So he was never able to touch for affection? Since the age of five? Luciana’s heart ached when she imagined how lonesome he must have been. She paced toward the chairs in front of the hearth. By the goddesses, she should be afraid the Beast would touch her. But she was much more upset by the wretched truth that he could never touch her. By marrying him, she was joining him in a life of loneliness.

  Her father settled into a chair with his goblet of wine. “Leo swore to me he would never harm you. I believe he is sincere, so I agreed to let him meet you alone.” He took a long drink. “Did the meeting not go well?”

  She wandered back to the sideboard and took a drink from her goblet. “I wasn’t alone when … the Lord Protector came.” She wasn’t comfortable calling him Leo. It seemed to denote an intimacy they could never have. “A few minutes before his arrival, Captain Bougaire barged in and demanded I elope with him.”

  “What?” The duke’s eyes widened with horror.

  “Did you know that he and—” Luciana drew closer to her father as she quickly glanced around the room to make sure no guards were nearby.

  “Damn him,” the duke growled, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I warned her over and over to stay away from the captain. But it seemed like the more I objected, the more she was determined to thwart me.” He jumped to his feet and picked up a poker. “I should have sacked him.” He jabbed at the fire.

  “The Lord Protector challenged him to a duel. Dawn tomorrow in the courtyard.”

  “Damn!” The duke stabbed at a log, then glanced back at her. “Was Leo … angry with you?”

  Luciana thought back over the conversation. He’d certainly glared daggers at the captain, but his gaze at her had been … different. Filled with hunger and longing. Pain and anguish. “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Ah, good.” Her father returned the poker to its rack, then rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know it must be frightening for you, but it will all work out well. In order to keep you safe, Leo has agreed to be wed in name only. He will return to his duties as Lord Protector, traveling with the army and patrolling the border.”

  “I see.” He would spend his life avoiding her so he wouldn’t harm her. At the convent, she’d always dreamed that marriage would include love and joy. And children. Not a lifetime of loneliness.

  “He has a small estate near Ebton. He said you were welcome to live there. But if you prefer, you could remain here.” The duke squeezed her shoulder. “Of course, I would like for you to stay here.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I would like that, too.”

  “Wonderful.” With a smile, the duke drew her into his arms. “Then it’s all settled.” He patted her on the back. “Leo will be happy with the arrangement. He thought you would be safer here.”

  He would be happy? Did the man even know what happiness was? She buried her face in her father’s shirt. Her dream man would never touch her, never be a true husband. And she would be safe.

  She should be relieved. She could remain here at Vindemar with her father, and her every need would be taken care of. So why did she feel like crying?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hours later, Luciana was back in her room in the tower. The newly installed bolt was shot, and there were a total of six guards posted in the tower: two on the ground level, two on the floor below her where the privy was located, and two outside her door.

  Before returning to the tower, she’d made a quick stop at her dressing room. Gabriella had helped her remove the gold brocade gown and put on a simple one she could handle alone. As soon as the sun had set, she’d donned the hooded black cloak, so she could secretly return to the tower. Jensen had warned her, though, that Captain Bougaire had spread the word that he was defending her honor at dawn. Soon everyone would know she was not at death’s door. Including the assassins.

  Alone now in the tower room, she paced about. A candle on the table cast flickering shadows on the walls. With a sigh, she stopped at the window where the Lord Protector had made his dramatic exit. Would he come see her again? What if something happened to him during the duel?

  A surge of sympathy swept through her. The poor man. How many times since the age of five had he endured the pain of lightning strikes? At eight, he’d lost both parents. Seen his mother murdered by his uncle’s assassins. Had there been no one who could embrace him while he’d mourned? Had he grown up never able to hug anyone? How terribly lonesome his
existence must be.

  As she put on her nightgown, she recalled how he’d said they had no choice but to marry. But now she wondered if he actually wanted to marry her. When he’d sneaked into the tower, his heated gaze had slowly wandered over her. She’d seen the hunger in his eyes. Oh, he had wanted to touch her. She’d felt it down to her bones.

  A shiver ran down her spine, and she glanced down at her sheer nightgown. Goddesses, help me! She could see a hint of pink and the hardening tips of her nipples. Was it her imagination or could she actually glimpse the shape of her legs and the darker patch between them?

  She pressed her hands against her hot cheeks.

  You’re bold. I like that.

  She groaned. Not that bold. How would she ever look him in the face again?

  Her sister suddenly appeared beside her. “Luciana!”

  She gasped. “Must you always startle—” She noticed the distraught look on Tatiana’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “My poor Alberto is about to be slaughtered!”

  “You mean the duel?”

  “Of course!” Tatiana paced across the room, wringing her hands. “I heard them talking about it in the barracks.”

  Luciana perched on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been worried about it, too.”

  “You know it won’t be fair, right? My poor Alberto will be murdered by that Beast!”

  “The Lord Protector said he wasn’t going to use his power, that it would be fair—”

  “And you believe a Beast?” Tatiana screeched. She ran toward the bed. “There’s only one thing we can do. You have to beg the Beast not to kill Alberto.”

  Luciana winced. “I don’t think—”

  “You have to! If anything happens to Alberto, it’ll kill me!”

  “You’re already—”

  “It’ll kill me again!” Tears filled Tatiana’s eyes. “I’ll be a lost spirit, wandering the earth, wailing for a thousand years.”

  “But how—”

  “How can a love be as pure as ours?” Tatiana thumped a hand against her chest. “You might as well ask how does the sun rise in the west—”

  “East.”