Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

"You take great pleasure in this, do you?"

"More than you," she snorted.

"I'm not looking for pleasure. I want you to be safe. And I'll call on you to check. As often as possible."

"Perhaps you should ask me if I

want

you to call on me, William."

Only Prisca could vex him in such a manner. Yet he still felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. "May I call on you, Prissy?"

"You absolutely may not, if you plan to call me Prissy." She lifted her pert little nose into the air.

"Prisca, darling." Her harrumph stopped him only momentarily. "May I call on you?"

"I may be able to tolerate your presence." A small giggle erupted from her throat. She was enjoying this. But then she gasped as he jerked her roughly against him.

"Don't play with me, Prisca. Unless you would like me to return the favor."

"Will," she whispered as he caressed her jawline with the back of his knuckles again. The pulse in her throat called to him. Bending to touch his lips to it, he trailed a kiss up her neck, across her jaw, and finally, his lips touched hers. "You said you'd stay chaste."

"My exile from lusty pursuits does not pertain to you."

"It doesn't?" she breathed.

"You have to grant me a boon, Prisca. I am not a monk."

She raised one haughty eyebrow at him. "So, if I'm to be wary of Brimsworth, you're to stay chaste. That's our deal?"

"That's our deal," he agreed. "Shall we kiss on it to formalize the entire plan?"

"I think most people shake hands, Will."

"Do you want to shake my hand?"

"Not particularly," she mumbled.

"Thank God," he breathed as he lowered his head. He pressed his lips against hers insistently, tilting his head to take more of her mouth. And, joy of joys, she kissed him back. He rejoiced when her lips opened and he could tangle his tongue with hers. He touched her elbow and lifted her arm to wrap around his neck. Then followed with the other arm. He wasn't satisfied until her arms clutched him to her, her fingers threading all the way to his scalp, her nails abrading him, just like when she petted him in Lycan form.

Only now they were equals.

Will heard footsteps coming down the corridor and pulled back to press a finger to her lips. She didn't even mutter against it. The door handle jiggled lightly before the boots stomped down the corridor.

Brimsworth… he was sure of it. Well, the earl could go straight to hell. Prisca had agreed to his bargain. Prisca was within his grasp. She'd be safe there. The earl could make his way to Kent or wherever else he chose.

"Oh!" Prisca pushed against his chest. "I need to get back to Lily and Elspeth! They'll think I'm the worst sort of hostess! And I can't blame my tardiness on you."

"No, I don't believe you should. Though I doubt they would be surprised by it."

Five

Prisca bolted down the corridor toward her private parlor, clutching the dark-green-and-blue silk swatch against her chest. If her heart pounded any harder, it would thump right through the muslin of her gown. It wouldn't do for her to be short of breath or for Lily and Lady Elspeth to see her in such a state. She slowed her steps and tried to calm herself.

Had Will actually kissed her?

Prisca's heart soared at the memory. She'd never even dared dream that such an occurrence could happen again. Well, she had dreamt of it, but that was so long ago. She shook her head. It was one thing to lie to others and quite another to lie to herself. In all honesty, she still wanted Will as much as she did when she'd agreed to run away with him all those years ago. She still wanted to be taken in his arms, feel his lips against her bare skin, be the woman he loved…

Prisca laughed at her own foolishness. William Westfield did

not

love her. He never had. For some reason, he felt threatened by Lord Brimsworth, and that was all it was. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or was it the wrong place at the wrong time? She wasn't quite sure which.

It had taken years to piece her heart back together after learning of his betrayal. She knew now he hadn't fathered that trollop Mary Osgood's child, but he could have. One only had to listen in on her brothers' conversations to know the truth behind that. He was a scoundrel of the highest order.

Which went to show what a fool she was. From her earliest memories, she'd felt as though there was a connection between her and Will, that they belonged to each other. What nonsense. William only belonged to himself and whatever lightskirt happened to be in the vicinity.

Though he

had

promised to forgo his usual entertainments if she accepted his demands, hadn't he? All under the pretense of keeping her safe. That made no sense at all. Will wasn't the sort of man to give up pleasures of the flesh. Not for her. Not for anyone. Besides, he didn't even know the earl. How could he possibly have determined so quickly that Brimsworth was unsafe?

She stopped in front of the door to the private parlor where she'd left her guests and took a deep, calming breath. Hopefully they wouldn't be able to tell that she'd been kissed, and certainly not as thoroughly as she just had.

Prisca closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then bounded through the door with a cheerful exuberance she didn't quite feel. "Sorry it took me so long. What do you think of this?" She offered the swatch to Lady Elspeth.

The pretty Scot ran the silk through her fingers. "Actually, Miss Hawthorne, I do appreciate yer offer, but…"

"My sister-in-law is concerned about attending the Yule Ball in her delicate state."

"I doona want ta embarrass Benjamin's family, and…"

Prisca dropped into a seat across from her guests. "We are not in London, Lady Elspeth. Things are a bit more lax here in Hampshire. Besides, with current fashions, I'm certain no one will even notice you're expecting. And I do have such beautiful designs dancing in my head."

"Prisca is a genius with a needle and thread," Lily gushed. "Just wait."

"And those colors will make you sparkle with radiance," Prisca promised.

Lady Elspeth bit her lower lip. "If ye're certain it'll be all right."

Prisca laughed. "Oh, heavens. I'm always right. Just ask Lily."

The duchess' hazel eyes twinkled. "She is right more often than she's not."

Lady Elspeth nodded. "All right, then."

"Splendid!" Prisca smiled. "It's been forever since I've had such a delightful project."

"Ye're very kind ta offer."

"So, Priss," Lily began, sliding forward on the settee. "Who was the golden Adonis you were playing cards with?"

Interesting. Everyone seemed inordinately curious about the earl. Prisca shrugged. "Lord Brimsworth is a friend of Blaine's. He's a theology scholar at Cambridge."

"I've never heard you mention him before."

"He arrived last night. First time I met him."

"He's quite handsome," Lady Elspeth added.

He was, wasn't he? And she certainly had him to thank for Will's sudden attention. Or to curse for it… it was too soon to tell. "I hadn't noticed."

Lily frowned at her. "I know you better than that, Prisca Hawthorne."

She couldn't help but giggle. "Honestly, Lily, I hadn't given him much thought." But she was thinking about him now, and more importantly, Will's reaction to the man. "He's fairly charming but a bit rough around the edges, if you must know. But then most men are, aren't they?"

"Well, he seemed quite taken with ye," Lady Elspeth said softly.

"But then most men are." Lily echoed Prisca's earlier sentiment.

"What an exaggeration!" Prisca insisted.

"Now who is being modest, Priss?" Lily laughed. "I've never seen a woman receive and turn down as many marriage offers as you, and I haven't lived here all that long."