Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Lily sniffed and then nodded her head in agreement.

Simon led his bride to the stables, where he grilled the head groom about Oliver's whereabouts.

The color seeping from his face, Dorn looked shocked to learn the young earl had run off. "Honestly, Your Graces, if I'd known 'e was gonna do somethin' like that, I'd've never saddled Erebus for him. I thought he was just goin' for a ride around the property."

Erebus! Simon winced. The gelding was one of the wildest in his stables. He'd like to berate the groom on the spot for giving the unruly beast to the boy, but he didn't want to alert Lily to the danger. She was worried enough as it was.

"How long ago did he leave, Dorn?"

The groom shuffled his feet, looking at the ground. "A couple o' hours. I was just startin' to get worried about the lad."

Simon made a note to have a long conversation with Dorn once he returned to Westfield Hall. In the meantime, he gestured toward the main road. "Prepare Abbadon," he commanded.

The groom nodded at the same time Lily called after him, "And a mount for me as well."

Simon's eyes shot toward his wife, and he shook his head. "Lily love, I'll find the lad and bring him home."

She furrowed her pretty brow. "I have to be there, Simon. I have to know why he would do this."

"And those questions will be answered when I return with Maberley." He had a few things to say to the young pup first, things Lily didn't need to hear.

With a stubborn tilt of her head, Lily glared at him, her hazel eyes boring angry little holes into his skin. "Simon Westfield, I am going. And don't you even think about keeping me from it."

Simon heaved a sigh. At least he could use a coach ride to his advantage. Having Lily beneath him instead of Abbadon did have its merit. "All right, love. Dorn, ready the carriage instead."

Lily's frown deepened. "We can go faster on horseback."

Simon returned her scowl. He wasn't accustomed to someone challenging his every edict, and he didn't enjoy that one bit. "Lily, I am allowing you to go with me, but you'll follow my direction. I believe this very day you vowed to do that exact thing."

A blush pinkened her cheeks at his words, and, for a moment, Simon felt like a cad. But only for a moment.

Once they were under way, Simon put his arm around Lily's shoulders and pulled her to him. She sat stiffly against him, unyielding in her anger. Even the gentle rocking of the coach didn't relax her into his side.

He brushed a lock of hair from the side of her face. "You're beautiful even when you pout, you know?" he taunted her. She rose to the bait, as he'd expected. If there was one thing he was learning about Lily, it was that she didn't back down from a fight.

"I am

not

pouting," she said, following the comment with a harrumph noise. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. That only served to push them up where he could better see them. Simon found that he rather liked the display.

"Oh, yes, you are pouting," he said quietly, his lips touching her cheek briefly. He would tease her out of this mood if it was the last thing he ever did. "But I think it's quite attractive."

"I can't

believe

he let Oliver take off for God-onlyknows where. He's

twelve

, Simon. Twelve!" She scooted out from under his arm and across the seat to stare out the coach window.

"Believe me, love, when we return to Westfield Hall, Dorn and I will have a long chat. In the man's defense, he had no reason to think Oliver would bolt."

She sniffed and turned her attention to stare out the window.

"With luck, we'll find him before he even reaches Essex," Simon reminded her. Then she would have Oliver back clinging to her skirts, which was exactly where

he

wanted to be, except he preferred to be under them.

"I just don't understand why he thinks so poorly of you. Is there something I don't understand? Did you hurt him in the breakfast room the other day? Or in one of your heated exchanges?"

Not in the slightest. Oliver was just as tough as any other Lycan. The boy wasn't even afraid of him.

Simon frowned. He didn't need Lily to distrust him. "If anyone should be angry, Lily, it's me," he said, changing tactics.

She gasped and swung her gaze to him. "And what reason, please tell me, could

you

possibly have for being angry?"

"Don't you think the fact that my wife is sitting as far from me as she possibly can is enough? I hadn't planned to spend my wedding night in exile. I had planned to spend it wrapped up… in… you."

She flushed at his comment, just as he'd hoped. Having her once wasn't nearly enough.

Yet she still put her nose in the air and turned back to the window. If that pup ruined his chances of staying in Lily's good graces, he would make him sleep with the hounds.

***

Lily watched the Hampshire countryside pass by her window. With the way Simon was looking at her, it was really quite difficult to stay angry with him. He settled deeper into his seat and looked at her, his eyes half-closed. Lily's heart jumped when he licked his lips.

"Come here," he said quietly.

Oh, dear.

"No," she answered, fully aware that her voice cracked. She hated her traitorous reflexes for responding to him.

"I didn't

ask

you." He crooked a finger at her. "Come here."

With a conscious effort, she turned to look out the window again. But then she felt the brush of his hand against the side of her breast. She closed her eyes and sighed, unable to deny how pleasurable the sensation was.

"Your body wants me," he taunted her.

"Well, of course it does," she sighed.

"Yet you want to deny it."

"Yes, I do." She very nearly caught a smile erupting. But pushed it back.

"I think I'll let you sit there and simmer," he said as he placed his hands in his lap.

She immediately felt the loss. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm going to wait. Until you ask me for it." He smiled a greedy little smile. "Or until we reach the next coaching inn. Whichever comes first."

Twenty-Nine

Lily could barely wait for the next coaching inn. She felt like a violin that had been strung too tightly. She had been worried that Oliver was in danger nearly the entire day. But now she was worried that she would simply erupt if Simon didn't touch her some time soon. When he'd said "come here," she'd nearly climbed into his lap and begged him to take her.

But she wasn't willing to concede quite so quickly. She wanted to know what he was hiding from her. Something was going on between him and Oliver. She knew it.

When they finally stopped, Simon jumped from the coach and held out his hand to her. He showed an abnormal level of detachment when he simply took her hand in his, rather than taking her hand and caressing it or teasing her unmercifully as she'd become accustomed.

"Something bothering you?" she asked him as they stepped toward the inn. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for keeping her in the dark.

He simply smiled politely. "Not a thing. You?" He didn't allow his gaze to stroll up and down her body. Nor did he stroke her with the timbre of his voice, the way he normally did. He put a hand at her back to guide her through the door. But that was where his familiarity ended.

As soon as they turned the corner into the taproom, Lily heard the squeal. It was an unexpected noise, the noise of a child opening presents on her birthday. Yet it came from a woman who was obviously more than a child. Flaxen curls framed her lovely face. Cherubic cheeks rested under the bluest eyes Lily had even seen. The woman was curvy and wore a sinful smile.

Simon stepped away from Lily and toward the woman, who raised her hand to place it in his. He smoothly lifted it to his lips. Lily could not believe he actually kissed that woman's skin.