Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Lily padded softly down the hall, her bare feet sinking into the luxurious carpet that lined the corridor, and found Oliver's room. The door slowly opened and creaked only slightly as she stepped inside. She would take a moment to watch him sleep, as she'd done almost every night since he'd come into her care.

Oliver's dark hair lay tousled against the pillow. He was at once a child replete with all the physical characteristics of a man. The full brow drew down in a frown even in sleep. Lily reached out and touched his hair, instantly relaxing him. He sighed softly and settled more deeply into the bed.

These were the moments she loved, the moments when her little boy was still a child. They were few and far between, and Lily was starved to crawl into bed with him and pretend he still needed her.

She glanced around the room, taking in his clothes that were flung about the floor. He'd always been a bit of a messy child. However, he was an earl and always had servants to keep his rooms clean and his clothes tidy. But then she noticed the broken shards of glass on the floor. He must have been in quite a temper when Simon had brought him to his room. She got up and went to pick up the larger pieces. She would have to apologize to Simon in the morning on Oliver's behalf.

"Why are you in here, Lily?" a voice asked quietly from the doorway. Simon leaned against the door frame, glowering at her.

"I just came to check on Oliver," she whispered as she stood up and placed the largest shards of glass on the side table. "He's sleeping soundly, so I'll go back to bed now." She took a step to brush past him but winced as her bare foot picked up one of the remaining pieces of glass. She lifted her foot and winced.

"What's wrong?"

"Just a piece of glass in my foot, Simon," she sighed.

His expression immediately softened. "A great excuse to hold you," he said softly as he scooped her up in his arms.

"Simon, put me down," she scolded him. "Why is it that you think I can't walk on my own two feet?"

"Because one of your two feet is injured, Lily love." She heard the laughter in his voice and couldn't help but smile at him. The scent of whisky caressed the side of her face.

"Simon, I think you're foxed," she smiled. "Put me down before you drop me."

"I'm not so foxed that I can't carry you to bed." He met her eyes with that suggestive comment. She felt the heat creep up her face.

"Perhaps you should drop me at my door," she murmured.

"Perhaps you should be quiet and let me decide what I'll do with you," he goaded her as they entered her room and he tossed her onto the bed. Before she could scramble to her feet, he had her injured foot in his hand. Even foxed, he moved faster than any man she'd ever met.

When he'd tossed her onto the bed, her nightrail had risen, exposing her calves. She tugged at the hem, trying to find some modicum of decency.

Alas, Simon was no help at all.

"I have seen your ankles before, Lily. Now be a good girl and sit still," he ordered as he closed one eye and tried to focus on her injury.

"How much have you had to drink, Simon?"

"Way more than I should have," he murmured. He stilled her foot and pulled the shard from her tender skin. Smiling, he held the small sliver up for her perusal. "Got it."

It was rare to see Simon actually smile. A scowl was much more like him. He got up, crossed to the water pitcher, and wet the handkerchief from his pocket. She held her hand out to him when he returned with it. But he took her foot in his hand again and said, "Let the doctor work, will you?"

He gently washed the bottom of her foot until he'd cleaned it enough to satisfy his own need to assist. Then he took her foot in his hand and peered at it closely. "I have never understood what makes you women think you need to keep your ankles hidden." His hand slipped up to cup her slim calf.

"Simon, that's not at all proper," she reminded him, tugging at the bottom of her nightrail again.

"A view of your foot doesn't particularly make me lose all control, Lily."

"Well, that's good to know, Simon." She rolled her eyes and tugged her foot, trying to pull it from his grasp.

But he held strong. "It's not like it's your calf, love," he said as his hand trailed up the back of her leg, his arm pushing her nightrail with every caress of his fingers.

"Now, when I see this, I can't help but think naughty thoughts." He smiled lewdly at her.

"Simon," she said more forcefully.

"

Simon

," he mocked her, making a face that caused her to giggle. But then he sobered. "Do you know why I think naughty thoughts when I see your calf?"

Lily's heart thumped in her breast. "W-why?" she stuttered.

"Because I know that above this knee," he said as he slid his hand up the back of her knee to the sensitive skin of her thigh, "lies what I want above all things, Lily," he murmured as he bent to kiss her.

Before he could touch his lips to hers, she breathed against his mouth, "You want

that

above all things?"

"Mmm. More than anything." He nodded, his lips barely brushing hers.

And that was all it took. He may as well have doused her with a big glass of water.

He'd dismissed her. He'd tried to send her away, to marry her off. He'd kissed her. He'd touched her inappropriately. And, above all things, he'd made her want him to do it all over again. But she needed to keep her wits about her.

"Simon," she whispered. "You need to leave."

He frowned at her. "Don't ask me that, Lily. I need you."

"For now," she added quietly. "Tell me, when morning comes, will you need me then? Or will you still be intent on sending me away?"

She saw a number of emotions flash across his face. Then he shook his head and stumbled backward. "I shouldn't be here. I'll see you in the morning."

Lily brushed away a tear as she watched him leave her room, wondering if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.

Thirteen

Simon awoke with a splitting headache, blinking painfully when the morning light flooded his vision. What had he done the night before? Ah, yes, finished off a bottle of whisky. He'd started it before his encounter with Lily and finished it after. He was playing with fire where she was concerned. She was fortunate he'd been so deep in his cups last night, dulling the intense call of the moon, or he wasn't sure what would have happened.

What a lie.

He knew exactly what would have happened. He'd have taken her beneath him and ruined whatever chances she had at a normal life. He wasn't at all certain that her protests would have even hit his ears until it was too late. Thank God he'd been foxed.

Simon pulled himself from bed, noting the room spun if he moved too quickly. "Parker!" he bellowed, covering his ears when they rang.

A moment later, his valet threw open his dressingroom door. "Yes, Your Grace?" The young man's eyes were wide, taking in Simon's form.

He must look even worse than he felt.

"Prepare my bath, and…" his voice trailed off, certain Parker would know what he needed.

Soon he sank down into the warm water of the bath and closed his eyes. How would he face Lily after the things he'd done last night? More importantly, how could he keep her safe from himself tonight, when he transformed into something that would terrify her? His drink had saved her last night, but it wouldn't help her this evening. He could imbibe all the whisky in Scotland beforehand, but it wouldn't make a bit of difference. The full moon would have him in its grips regardless.

After his morning ablutions, Simon made his way to the breakfast room where he found Will slicing his sausages on his plate. He barely looked up when Simon fell into a spot across from him.

"If you're looking for Lily," his brother began with a glower, "you're too late. She's already gone."