Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"Molly," she said, biting her plump bottom lip.

Molly, the little maid Blaine drooled over. Will took a deep breath and backed away from the chit. "Well, Molly, I'll just be on my way."

"Must you leave so soon, my lord? I think I may have turned my ankle."

Was she flirting with him? Or had he truly injured the girl? "Does it hurt to stand?"

She nodded, batting her lashes again.

Will frowned but took her arm, directing her to the closest parlor. "Sit down, and I'll find someone for you."

"No." She pouted. "Won't you look at it for me, my lord?" She dropped onto the settee and tugged the hem of her serviceable grey gown up to her knees. An invitation, if ever he'd seen one, and he'd seen plenty. "Please? It hurts so terribly bad."

The girl did have very nice ankles and a snug little bodice. No wonder Blaine was so enraptured. Pouty lips and sparkling green eyes that spoke of unbridled passion. Last week he would have been tempted. Two days ago he would have been tempted. But after holding Prisca yesterday, after their bargain, he couldn't even consider the girl and what she offered.

"I think not." He backed toward the entrance. "But I'll find someone who can be of assistance."

"But, my lord," she continued, "I'm certain your hands could make it all better."

Will didn't even answer her. He strode from the room, wondering where Prissy had gotten to and spotted Blaine at the end of the corridor. He was mad for the little maid; he could heal her twisted ankle instead. "Blaine," he called.

The youngest Hawthorne brother smiled, approaching him. "Have you disposed of Garrick already?"

Will shrugged. "I'm afraid I knocked into one of your maids just now. Molly, I think. I left her in the pink parlor with a twisted ankle. You should check on her."

"Molly?" A stupid grin landed on Blaine's lips. "The pink parlor, you say?"

Will nodded. "Indeed. I'd better find my way back to the vicar." Though he had no intention of doing that. Prisca was somewhere alone with that vile Brimsworth, and if he didn't find her soon, he would go out of his mind.

Eight

Prisca stood in the dark broom closet and held completely still, forcing herself to breathe slowly and evenly, as though that would help her calm her rapid heart. She had to admit it was cowardly and juvenile to stand in the closet. But she truly wanted to be alone, if only for five minutes. She needed that amount of time to collect her thoughts.

Intelligent women planned. They didn't simply fall into situations from which they were unable to extricate themselves, as she was prone to doing. She was in a mess of disastrous proportions. Now, how to improve upon her situation?

The heavy clomp of boots stopped outside the closet door. It was Dashiel… she knew it! Prisca held her breath, sure he could hear her.

Five minutes. All I

need is five minutes. I need to think.

The steps faded as he walked away from the door. Prisca relaxed a bit, allowing herself to breathe. And that was a good thing, because as soon as she filled her lungs, the door to the closet was flung open. The bulky form of a man slipped inside, and then he closed the door behind him.

***

"Don't scream!" Will grunted at her as his hand covered her mouth. He could just imagine her wailing loudly enough to call all her brothers, his brothers, and that damned Lycan into the hallway. "I'll uncover your mouth if you promise not to scream."

She nodded frantically beneath his hand.

"Good girl," he soothed her.

"Who are…" she started. Her palms landed flat on his chest. "Will?" she asked.

"Yes, love. What are you doing in here?"

There was very little room in the closet and, although his Lycan eyesight allowed him to see her, he had no doubt she couldn't see him. A broomstick brushed his shoulder.

"Ouch," Prisca cried when it hit the top of her head.

"I have it. Never fear, I'll strangle the worrisome beast," he laughed softly. Then she took a step and landed on his toe. "Oww, be still!" he whispered.

"There's not much room in here, Will, and you're taking up most of it."

He reached out and curled an arm around her waist, drawing her body against him. "There. Just be still."

"Why are you in the closet, Will?" she asked.

"I asked you first," he chuckled.

"I was hiding, if you must know. How did you know I was in here?"

"I could hear your heart beating."

"I don't doubt that. It was thumping like mad. Now, tell me the truth?"

"Your gown stuck out from beneath the door," he lied smoothly.

"Then it's a wonder Dashiel didn't find me," she mumbled.

Will managed not to growl. He hated hearing the man's name on her lips. "When did the two of you become chummy enough that you call him Dashiel?"

"Tonight, I assume," Prisca sighed.

"Why were you hiding from him?" Had the beast done something to hurt her? He'd march right out of there and strangle the life out of the Earl of Brimsworth.

She shrugged against him. "I don't know. I just needed some time to myself."

The smell of the Lycan was all over her. On her clothes. On her hair.

Damn it.

"And just what were you thinking about while you hid in the closet?" he asked.

"Kissing."

Will swallowed so loudly that he could hear it. "And why were you thinking of kissing?" When she didn't respond, he jostled her shoulder. "Priss, answer me."

"Dashiel says I'm bad at it."

How the devil would the earl know if she was good or bad at kissing? Will balled his hand up in a fist. "He said

what

?"

"He didn't say I'm

bad

at it. He said I needed practice."

And the earl had himself in mind to tutor her, Will was sure. "Brimsworth is an idiot. When did you kiss him?" He'd only been gone from her for a few moments. "That's hardly being careful around the man."

"I didn't kiss him. He kissed me."

Of course, he did. Will would kill him.

"You think I kiss all right, don't you?" She turned her pretty little face up to his. Her eyes were closed, probably because she couldn't see, even with them open. She looked perfectly kissable.

"I think you kiss just fine," Will grumbled. He needed to move away from her because simply talking about kissing her made him so hard he was sure she'd be scared by it, if she took notice.

"Just fine?" she hissed. "That's like being really cute. It's steps below beautiful."

"You are beautiful." He smiled until she jabbed him in the gut. "All right, Priss, I believe your kiss was better than fine. But, it's so hard to remember. We should do it again so I can give you a full report."

***

"Are my kisses

that

forgettable, Will?" Or was it simply that he'd kissed so many that she didn't stand out? If she didn't kiss well enough to impress Dashiel, how could she ever measure up to all the women Will had kissed? Her confidence was quickly evaporating there in the dark with him pressed against her.

Will's lips brushed her forehead. "Definitely not forgettable, Prissy."

She couldn't help but sigh loudly. He did sound sin cere. "We can get out now. I think I'm done thinking."

"You think you're done thinking?"

"Yes, I believe so."

His arm tightened around her. "I don't know, Priss. You definitely need to think about this some more."

"I should get back to my guests."

"Then go, but your moment of peace will be shattered," he reminded her. "As soon as you leave, Brimsworth will be chasing your skirts again."

"My moment of peace was shattered the second you stepped in here with me."

"That's just because you're thinking about kissing

me

," he said, bending close to her ear. As he spoke, his warm breath brushed the shell of her ear.