Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"I am not." Only a little bit, and only because she worried she'd disappointed him the day before.

"Oh, have I just caught Prisca Hawthorne as she told an untruth?" he teased. Laughter made his chest rumble beneath her hands. The muscles of his chest were taut beneath her fingertips. She flexed her fingers, testing the muscles. "Don't do that," he growled.

"Do what?"

"You know what you were doing."

"As soon as you

tell

me, I'll know." Why did everything have to be an argument with this man?

"You were touching my chest. Not quite a caress but definitely exploring."

"I was not!" she gasped. Well, maybe she was. But she didn't have to admit it.

"If I did that to you, you would cry foul and run from the closet screaming."

"I would do no such thing." In fact, the thought of him exploring her body with his fingers made her heart thump. His body was hard, pressed against her, and warmth radiated from him in waves.

She tested him with her fingertips again. "You're just so hard."

"Yes, I am that," he growled. The primitive sound made her soul vibrate. Then she felt him against her lower belly. Perhaps he had something in his pocket.

"Prissy, let me try that kiss again so I can decide if it's worth having or not."

Did he really want to kiss her again? Prisca lifted her face toward him. "I can't even see you, much less kiss you."

A heartbeat later, his lips touched hers softly, sliding against her closed mouth for only a moment.

"Not bad." He lifted his head. "It'll do."

"It'll do?" she cried. That was hardly complimentary.

"Let's try it again." His lips met hers. This time, he tilted his head, his mouth pressing firmly against hers. His tongue tickled her lips, caressing the seam until she opened for him. Then he swept inside.

All conscious reasoning left her in that moment. She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her hips rocked against his. There was definitely something in his pocket. Finally, he broke the kiss. But not before she was breathless and witless.

"Will it do?" she gasped out.

"And then some," he grunted.

"That's better."

"Only a fool would complain about your kisses, Prisca."

And if Brimsworth touches you again, he's an even

bigger fool.

"When I was with him…" She hesitated until he nudged her. "I mean, kissing him was not like kissing you."

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

She wanted to hit him. And kiss him again all at the same time.

His finger tipped her chin up. "When you're with him, he doesn't make you feel like this, does he?" His lips touched hers, a quick and profound kiss.

"No," she finally admitted.

"You're not made for him," he told her, as he caressed her jaw with his fingertips.

She couldn't see his face, which made it easier to ask, "Then who am I made for?" She steeled herself for his answer.

"Me," he said softly, and her heart soared.

Did he feel the same connection to her that she felt to him? "Will—"

Before she could ask, the closet door opened and the light from the hallway washed over them.

Nine

"Get out of the closet, William," Simon hissed at him. Then he turned his gaze on Prisca. "And you, too," he growled, making a jerking motion with his thumb.

Prisca squared her shoulders. "I think I may just stay in the closet the rest of the night. Please close the door on your way out." She paused briefly and then shot Simon a glare. "Your Grace," she sneered at him.

Will wasn't sure if he should laugh out loud or roll over and show Simon his belly. His oldest brother's face was ripe with rage, though Prisca didn't seem to notice.

"You will get out of the closet and then you will thank me, Miss Hawthorne," Simon clipped out. "As we speak, each of your brothers is searching the premises for the both of you. Have the two of you lost your fool minds?"

Will captured Prisca's hand in his and pulled her from the closet. "No need to bark at the girl, Simon. She was only looking for a little peace."

"And what were you looking for?" his brother countered.

Prisca tilted her face up to him. Will's heart nearly thudded to a stop when tears welled up behind her eyelashes. He never could bear to see her cry. "Priss, are you all right?"

She barely nodded. "You'd better go so they won't find us together."

He wasn't about to leave her. "Not while you're upset."

"William!" She frowned, snatching her hand back from his. "Surely it's not in your best interest to be caught in my presence. Please go with His Grace."

He could only stand there and gape at her.

Prisca shook her head irritably. "Never mind." She turned her glared on Simon. "You may tell them you found me and that I have retired to my room with a headache." And with that, she fled down the corridor and around a corner.

"And still no 'thank you,'" Simon grumbled.

Rage coursed through Will, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed Simon's jacket and thrust his older brother against the wall with such force he felt the manor's foundation tremble. "I'll 'thank you' right out the window," he seethed.

Simon growled low in his throat. No one ever challenged him, not ever. Will knew better, but his control was long since gone.

"If you want to keep those hands, you'll remove them from my person this instant," Simon threatened.

Will blinked, trying to regain his thoughts, and released his hold on Simon's jacket. "I don't know what came over me," he apologized, backing away.

Simon smoothed his jacket back into place and straightened his ivory cravat. "That's not an excuse, William. Think for one moment about what you're doing."

Will raked a hand through his hair. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Indeed?" Simon's brow rose. "Because your behavior is a complete mystery to me. Tell me, little brother, if someone other than me had opened that cupboard, what do you think would have happened?"

But it wasn't someone else. It was Simon, and Will had heard his approach. "There was nothing to worry about."

Simon growled. "Are you trying to compromise her?"

"No!" The air rushed from Will's lungs. Honestly, he hadn't given it any thought. Still… "But it did work for both you and Ben." It could be the quickest way to get her in front of the altar and away from Brimsworth.

"The situations aren't even remotely similar." The dark look his older brother shot Will nearly shook the idea from his head. But he stood his ground. "There are other ways to go about this, William. Honorable ways. Do you want Emory and the others to think less of their sister? Do you want to lose the best friends you've ever had? Because that is what awaits you if you travel down the path you're on."

Will sighed. That was the last thing he wanted for both himself and Prisca. "Well, what am I supposed to do, Simon? You saw the way Brimsworth snatched her from me in the parlor. You saw the way he kept her at his side all night. The damned man is a guest here—in this house—with her. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"You can start by behaving honorably," Simon advised. "I know it's a stretch for you, but…" He glanced down the corridor. "Emory," he whispered.

Will nodded. He'd know his old friend's approach anywhere.

"Ah, Will," Emory said as he rounded the corner. "Garrick was worried when you deserted him in the middle of the game."

Will feigned a smile and started down the corridor toward his friend. "Don't know why. I told him I was going outdoors to get a breath of fresh air for a bit."

Emory glanced around Will as though he was searching for something. "Have you seen Prissy? She seems to have become lost in our own home somehow."