Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"I need to go home," she said quietly.

"Not tonight, love."

Her eyes flew wide. "Yes, tonight. I'm sure everyone is worried about me. Besides, I can't stay here with

you

."

Will shrugged. "I don't think you have much of a choice unless you want to go out in nothing but one of Simon's shirts, traipsing through the drenched forest alone in the darkness." His gaze raked down her legs. "You'll not get far on that ankle. And, as strong as I am, I cannot carry you all the way back to Langley Downs. The dark makes it even worse, Prissy. It's too dangerous."

"It's more dangerous to be with you."

A grin curved his lips. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

A likely story. Who knew what he'd do with an entire night on his hands? But he'd mentioned Ben earlier, hadn't he? Ben wouldn't leave her with him all night. He'd be back soon with clothes and one of Blackmoor's mares.

A twinge of sadness ached in her heart. It had been a lifetime since she and Will had been completely alone. A stolen moment in a cupboard didn't count. Nor did his dragging her into a room so he could talk to her. Now that they were, she wasn't quite certain she wanted him to be on his best behavior. She might not ever get another chance such as this. Prisca gasped at her own wicked thoughts. What had come over her? Obviously spending time in his company was not conducive to behaving properly.

"An entire range of emotions just played across your face, Prissy. What

are

you thinking? Or should I be afraid to ask?"

She couldn't tell him the truth. He'd pounce on her like he would any lightskirt who crossed his path. "I suppose I should thank you for finding me tonight," she said instead.

***

Will frowned, the anxiety he'd experienced earlier still fresh in his mind. Finding her like that had taken years off his life. "What were you doing out there?"

She stared into the fire. "I went for a walk to clear my head."

"And decided freezing to death was preferable to returning home?"

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, and Will had the overwhelming desire to kiss the marks she left. Didn't she know what seeing that did to him?

"What is it, Prissy?"

She shook her head.

"You know you can tell me anything."

Her violet eyes pierced him straight to his core. "I got lost, Will." Then she snorted in disgust. "That is most ridiculous, I know. How does anyone get

lost

on her own property?"

"Well, technically, you're on Westfield land," he said, hoping to lighten the mood. He hated to watch her berate herself. It had only been a mistake, but one that would make her his once the night was through.

She choked on a laugh. "Yes, but I started out on

my

property. Thank you for trying to make me feel better, though."

Will clasped his hand above his heart. "Prisca Hawthorne has actually thanked me twice in one night." However, that apparently was the wrong thing to say as she sobered rather quickly and looked down at her hands.

Will could have kicked himself. For the first time in ages, she was laughing with him, and he had to go and ruin it.

"Sorry," he muttered. Will rubbed his brow. Perhaps he'd finish off the rest of Simon's whisky after all.

Her eyes followed him as he stood up and made his way to the small cupboard on the far side of the room. "No brandy?" she asked.

Will bit back a smile. "Brandy? Afraid not, though you're welcome to share my whisky."

She scrunched up her nose. "It tastes so woodsy."

"But it will warm you from the inside out."

Prisca heaved a sigh. "Maybe just a bit."

Will poured two glasses and handed one of them to her. Standing over Prisca, he had a clear view of her golden locket, tucked in her cleavage. He couldn't be closer to her heart. "So, your

dog

…" he began, leaning against the hearth, "Is it one of Emory's?"

Prisca put a hand to the chain around her neck. "No." She avoided his eyes and took a sip of her whisky. She made a face at the taste.

"I've never seen it before," Will continued. She squirmed in her chair, giving him a nice view of what lay beneath her borrowed shirt. "What are you keeping from me, Prissy?"

She frowned, seemingly deliberating on whether or not to trust him. Finally she sighed. "He's not a dog, Will."

"No?" he asked, keeping his amusement in check.

"You'll think I'm mad."

"I promise I won't."

Prisca raised her eyes to his. "And if I tell you, you promise not to yell at me for being reckless?"

Will swallowed the rest of the whisky in his glass. "I told you, Priss, you can tell me anything."

She heaved a sigh, and he could see a whole new set of emotions flash across her face. "He's a wolf."

No surprise there, though he did his best to feign the reaction she was looking for and let his mouth fall

?"

She nodded. "He visits me."

"A

wolf

visits you?"

"I knew you'd think I was mad."

He sunk down to his haunches before her. "I think you're beautiful."

"And mad," she added, though Will noticed a pretty blush creep up her cheeks.

"I don't think you're mad," he said softly. "So he visits you?"

"I don't know how to explain it, Will." She leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. "I've seen him for years, always in the garden at Langley Downs. He's…" She blushed. "Well, he seems magical."

Interesting. He'd always thought of it as the other way around. He was a wild beast in his Lycan form, though she never failed to calm him. She was so close; he couldn't help but caress her cheek. "Perhaps you're the magical one."

Then he very softly touched his lips to hers.

Thirteen

All thought escaped Prisca's head as Will's hands threaded into the hair at her temples, his thumbs tipping her chin up so he could take her mouth more completely. His tongue coaxed her lips apart, and then he nipped her lower lip with his teeth and growled softly.

Prisca pulled back from him and brought her feet down to the floor. She'd heard that sound before.

He let her pull away but didn't release her. "What's wrong?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

She shook her head slightly, her eyes roaming across his features. His blue eyes were warm and inviting, his hair damp and tousled. For some reason, he seemed so familiar. And not just because he was Will.

"What is it?" His hands left her hair, and he rested them on her knees. Her bare knees. She shivered as his thumbs drew small circles on the sensitive flesh. "You're cold?" he asked before frowning and throwing more wood onto the fire.

Shadows from the fire danced across his naked back. Cords of muscle rippled down his spine as he stoked the flames. Prisca's mouth watered at the sight. "I'm not cold," she squeaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm not cold, Will." She was anything but cold.

"Good," he nodded as he passed her glass back to her. "Drink this anyway. It'll keep you warm."

Prisca wanted to say he was already doing that, but she took a big swallow of whisky instead. Then she coughed and sputtered. She raised her balled fist to her mouth and coughed against it.

"Whisky should be sipped," he laughed.

She simply nodded. Of course, he would think that was humorous. "Are there clothes here that

you

could wear?" she asked. If he was fully dressed, she would feel much more comfortable.

His gaze moved from her bare feet up to her knees and lingered on her thighs. She tugged the bottom of the shirt down. "You're wearing the only shirt in the trunk." He held out a hand, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. "You could give it back to me, if you're done with it?"

If the whisky wasn't helping to relax her, she would have thrown the tumbler at him. In fact, she looked down to do just that and noted that it was empty. She held it out to him, instead.