Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Emory was oblivious to the fact that his life was in jeopardy. "Miss Rutledge, I would be honored if you'd allow me to escort you to the assembly room on Friday night."

Simon growled.

"Well, I—"

Simon snarled, "If Miss Rutledge insists on attending a party, she will be escorted by me, Hawthorne."

"I will?" Lily asked, one hand fluttering to land on her chest.

If only his lips were upon that chest, Simon thought. He tore his gaze away from Lily's cleavage when Will said, "Why don't we all go together, Emory? We can meet you both at Langley Downs beforehand."

"Oh, William," Prisca began, feigning sweetness. "If you wanted to escort me to the ball, you had only to ask. No need for an elaborate ruse to get me into your coach." She winked at Lily.

Will muttered under his breath, "If it saves your brother's life, I would agree to take you to the altar." Simon's keen hearing picked up the words, though he was beyond caring.

Simon stalked slowly toward Emory Hawthorne, who still stood too close to Lily for comfort. Emory paid no heed to the warning look he sent him, so Simon bumped his shoulder against the man.

Emory stumbled to the side.

"Pardon me, Hawthorne," Simon said as he took Lily's elbow in his hand and prodded her away from the group.

"Honestly, Blackmoor," Lily complained. "I told you I'll be along in a moment." She yanked her arm from his grasp. He allowed it, but only for a moment.

"

Now

, Lily!" he said, grasping her elbow more firmly. He was prepared to drag her, if need be, though it would be better for the neighbors if she came willingly.

"It's all right, Lily," Prisca said, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. "You'd best do as he says. He looks ready to devour you right here and now."

Only Prisca would make such an incendiary statement in such a public place. Though Simon supposed his behavior warranted her waspishness.

"I'll send a coach for you tomorrow, Lily, so we can prepare for the ball," Prisca continued as Simon pushed Lily around the corner.

"Thank you," Lily called back as he led her into his study and slammed the door. Then she glared at him, her pretty, hazel eyes darkening. "Honestly, Your Grace!"

"Simon," he said absently, running a hand through his hair in desperation, trying to rein the beast back under control, trying to figure out why it drove him to distraction to see other men fawning all over her.

"Simon what?" she asked, confusion on her face.

"I'm tired of you 'Your Grace-ing' me. You call Will by his name."

"Is that what this is about? Why you manhandled me in front of your neighbors?"

"I did not manhandle you."

"You most certainly did. That had to be one of the rudest displays of temper I have ever seen." Lily rubbed her elbow.

Had he harmed her? Simon looked over her person. Her chest was pink and rosy, a symbol of her anger. Her cheeks were bright red, and her breasts rose with every agitated breath.

Her breasts. Her breasts rose with every breath. His gaze danced across her

décolletage,

willing the flesh to rise a little more so his eyes could greedily devour her skin. She noticed his stare and covered her chest with her hand.

"Perhaps,

Simon

, you should just undress me and get it over with, instead of simply undressing me in your mind."

Simon instantly hardened at the thought. He took two steps closer to her. "Perhaps I shall."

***

Lily immediately forgot the pain in her elbow as he walked closer. What was he doing? She hadn't really laid down a challenge. She held up one feeble hand, as though that would hold him off.

It didn't.

Lily danced sideways, putting a chair between them. Simon pushed it over. As it thumped against the rug, she fled to stand behind his desk.

"Simon, what has come over you?" she shrieked. Her voice sounded painful to her own ears. Though it did not affect his, not if his present conduct was any indication.

"I want to see if I hurt your elbow, Lily," he said quietly, his voice no more than a low hum.

"Then why are you stalking me?" she asked, happy that the desk was still solidly between them.

He laughed mirthlessly. "What an odd thing to say, Lily. I am not stalking you."

However as he advanced toward her, all Lily could think was that she was about to become his dinner. What a silly notion. Though at times, Simon did remind her of a wild animal. Now was no exception.

He reached one hand across the desk and said

quietly, "Let me see if I hurt you." Did a bit of guilt cross his face?

Lily extended her elbow, pointing it at him as she rolled her eyes. "You really should have worried about this

before you grabbed me in front of everyone. In fact

, you shouldn't have grabbed me at all," she rebuked him.

Simon took her elbow in his hand and regarded it quietly, noting the redness of her skin where his brutish hold had clasped her so roughly. He lowered his lips to the spot and touched it gently.

His dark eyes rose to meet hers, and she saw remorse in their depths. But she also saw…

hunger

? She batted at his hand. "That's enough, Simon. I'm fine."

His gaze never left hers as he said, "Never pull away from me, Lily. I can't bear the torture."

"What has come over you?" One moment he was standoffish, offering to pay her dowry to the first available man who would take her off his hands. Then he was trying to devour her. And what of his comment about undressing her? It was best left forgotten.

Lily jumped as Simon suddenly leapt over the desk, the contents of the desktop scattering to thud onto the rug. Within seconds, he was mere inches from her. How had he moved so quickly? And so quietly?

"Allow me to apologize properly," he said as he lifted her elbow again and graced the inside of her forearm with his lips. Was that a question? He certainly wasn't waiting for permission.

Lily was still peeved. "And if I choose not to accept your apology?" she asked, trying to tug her arm from his hand.

"Then I shall have to convince you of my sincerity. Let me kiss it and make it better," he said. With the last, his eyes met hers, a bit of boyishness dancing in the depths.

"I think you have kissed me quite enough, Your Grace," she sighed.

His hands dropped her elbow, moving to cup her face. Gentle thumbs played around her jawline as his fingers splayed toward the back of her head. His glance dropped to her mouth just before his lips touched hers. "Never enough, Lily," he growled.

Ten

Simon knew the moment Lily accepted his advances. She reached up to place her hands flat against his chest, nearly igniting him. Initially, he thought she intended to push him away. But she simply curved into him and returned his kiss as fervently as he offered it.

Forgotten was the elbow that had begun this encounter. In fact, what had started this tryst were Emory Hawthorne and his desire to accompany Lily to the local assembly hall. Simon would wipe all thoughts of Emory from her mind. He would be sure she had very little mind left, except for thoughts of him and what he could do for her, what he could make her feel.

Simon's arms snaked around her waist, drawing her closer to him, as though he could pull her right into his body. Her arms inched up around his neck, pulling his head down as she pressed even more firmly against him.

Simon was amazed he still had his wits about him, but he realized how much he liked her height as she returned his kisses. Most women were diminutive in comparison to him, but not Lily. She fit against him as though she was made to be there. Her breasts pressed against his chest, hard nipples grazing the fine lawn of his shirt, the pinpoints in stark contrast to the bounty of her chest.