The Eye of the Wolf

by Sadie Vanderveen

  He eased back. Slowly, he released the breath he hadn’t been aware he had been holding. He ached to pull her into his arms and love her, tenderly, gently, like no one had ever loved her before, but he knew that time and place were not right. It would have to wait.

  He swallowed and smiled. “The doctor released you earlier into my care. I didn’t want to wake you so I thought I would wait. If you are up to it, I’ll take you home now.”

  Mikayla nodded and with his help climbed from the bed. It was only then that she realized she would have nothing to wear. Certainly she couldn’t wear the hospital gown and she wasn’t going to wear the clothes from the previous day. The clothes that had been soaked in Dejeune’s blood. At the thought, Mikayla paled and set a hand on the edge of the bed to steady herself.

  Will watched the color drain from her face and knew she must be thinking of what she had seen just the day before, of the strange twist her life had taken in the last day. He reached under the edge of the bag and pulled out the duffle bag filled with her clothes. “I had a servant bring you a change of clothing from your house. I can help you change, or if you prefer, I can get you a nurse to help you.”

  Mikayla looked up at him and then looked at the bag in his hand. Surprise at the tender gesture flooded her. How had he known what she would feel and need when she was ready to leave? How had he known that he was the one person who would calm and comfort, even after the harsh words between them?

  Mikayla pulled the clothes from the bag and changed into the worn blue jeans and the faded University of Michigan sweatshirt with the hole in the elbow. Comfort clothes, she mused as she slipped her feet into sandals. Then, she followed him from the room into the hall, ready to return to the world.

  Will led Mikayla into the bedroom of her sunny beach house and gestured to the large bed. He set the duffle bag down at the foot of the bed. “You need to rest. I promised the doctor I would make sure you rested if he would let you come home with me.” He took her hand and led her to the bed. “Lay down, Mikayla, rest, please.”

  Mikayla looked from the bed to his face and began to shiver. She gripped her arms to stop the shivering but found only that the trembling was worse. “I can’t, Will. I can’t.” Tears clogged her voice and she hugged herself. “I’m so scared.” She whispered and buried her face in his shirt when his arms wrapped around her, warm and loving, pulling her close.

  He whispered soft words of comfort, endearments that meant nothing and meant everything. He eased back and pressed cool lips to her eyes, kissing away tears that ripped at his heart. She turned her head, meeting his lips with her own, pulling them both into a kiss that was again meant for comfort but opened those wants and needs that had never been buried. Will’s hand wound through her hair, wrapping it around his fingers, silk on rough skin. His tongue dipped between her lips, gentle encouragement, willing her to open to him, to let him love and comfort. To get lost in her.

  Mikayla’s lips parted and welcomed him. Her heart beating madly and breathing shallow as the warmth spread from her toes through her body until she clung weakly to him, hands fisted in the cotton of his shirt. She welcomed the blindness that followed as his lips cruised over her neck and face, leaving her weak and wanting. She willingly lost herself in his scent of fresh air and man, scents that would always remind her of him even when he was not beside her. His hands cruised mercilessly over her skin, leaving hot trails where he touched and caressed.

  He murmured her name when her own hands snaked into his hair and pulled him back into the kiss. He was lost to her, forever. He needed this, just her, even if it was for only a moment, only for one night as he protected her.

  He laid her carefully on the bed; its satin coverlet dipping beneath their combined weight, rustling with the soft movements as he sat beside her, bending into her, drawing her in. Her hands roamed over his back, kneading the muscles there, slow circles that were killing him. The hesitant touches were maddening, full of tenderness and strength. Those strong, capable hands were gentle. Amazing. Her nerves jumped against his own, raising his temperature, driving him to madness, driving his need just as her own increased. As his kisses streaked over her face and neck, he reveled in her shivers and shudders joined with musical sighs of delight.

  He wanted to rip the clothes from her body and take her. He wanted to get lost in this magical moment that was her, but he made his greedy grasps slow. Enjoy. Tenderness. Her nails dug into his back through his shirt and were like the sharp edge of the knife, driving through him, pushing him towards completion. But he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted more than just that moment. He wanted her to have more than just that moment.

  She felt as if she were floating somewhere above her own body; it was too deliriously wonderful to be real. It was too dazzling to be anything but a mystical dream that came upon her when she was lost in the deepest of sleeps. Her eye lids lifted slowly, wondering if it were all a wonderful dream, but the sensations within her forced her eyes closed again in pleasure. She moved to kiss him, to return the feelings he aroused within her and sank into the kiss. Her limbs were heavy and her breath was lost in him as a moan slid from his lips. Her mind was blank. The only thought was of him and how glorious he felt beneath her hands.

  His hands slowly moved down over her body, gripping and caressing her curves. He trailed his lips along the curve of her jaw and down her neck, nestling briefly at the base of her neck, between collarbone and shirt. A soft moan escaped her lips thrilling him beyond comprehension. Her fingers, once believed to be delicate, dug into his shoulders, clenching the damp cotton in her fists.

  Carefully, Will pulled the simple cotton shirt over her head and laid it to the side. Milky white skin turned golden in the dying afternoon sun. To his hands, her skin was like the finest silk, sliding beneath him. Her small breasts heaved with her labored breathing. He smiled against her skin as she murmured his name, music in the peaceful afternoon, waves crashing outside the window.

  Mikayla gripped his shoulders as he trailed his tongue along her body leaving a trail of fire. She streaked her hands beneath his cotton shirt and dug her nails into his back making him exhale one short breath and grin against her skin. She pulled her hands from beneath his shirt and tugged. He allowed her to pull it from his body and throw it, lost in the room. Her hands cruised over his tanned chest. Fingers followed each line of finely toned muscle. She pulled him down to her and kissed him long and deep, losing herself in his taste, in the moment.

  Will tugged at the button that held her practical jeans in place and peeled them away, leaving her bare beneath. His hands smoothed over her skin, leaving a hot trail. His mouth traced that trail across her belly and over her breasts until he returned to drown in her mouth, in the heaven that was there. He felt like he was dying, drowning within her, but he wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready for his salvation for surely she was an angel sent to set him free from his sins.

  Mikayla tugged at his clothes, wanting to feel his skin against her own. Wanting to feel him. She had never felt this intense need before. Before, there had never been an ache to be touched. There had never been an ache to be lost within that moment. Now, however, she needed him. She knew she had to have release. She gasped out his name only to be quieted by another kiss that blinded her senses and left her demanding more. The world slipped away as he touched her, drawing from her secrets she hadn’t known existed.

  Will’s hands streaked over her body, feeling the silk that was slicked with sweat. He cupped her, feeling the heat that radiated from within her and longed to be part of that heat. She was ready for him. She moved against him, in a sweet, gentle rhythm that rocked him to a peak that amazed and humbled him.

  Mikayla cried out when he touched her; first in surprise and then in pleasure. This was a pleasure that was new to her, a pleasure that had never been experienced before. She knotted her fingers in his hair and moaned as he caressed her and suckled on her breasts, stroking her nipples with cool lips, bringing her pleasure. Her limb
s were tense, fighting for control when she slipped over the edge of the precipice and cried out, moving beneath his hand as he brought her to climax.

  Mikayla’s limbs went lax and her hands slid from Will’s shoulders. Her body felt like melted wax and her mind was blank except for him. Her eyes fluttered open as he ran his hands over her torso, tracing the gentle curve of her body beneath his fingertips. His mouth was cool against her skin as it traced a line down to her center. He followed his trail back to her mouth, trailing his tongue along her slightly parted lips swollen from him, vowing himself to take his time, to temper his own need though he felt as if he would burst. She murmured his name against his mouth and sighed when his hand cupped her breast, massaging it gently.

  Will slipped between her parted lips, teasing her tongue with his own, tasting her as she slowly slid a hand up his arm and into his hair. He had had no idea how wonderful it would feel, how erotic it would be to have her slim fingers twined in his hair, holding him into a kiss that killed them both. Her fingers trailed down his spine leaving a burning line in their wake in his skin, tickling him, driving him insane. His own hands were beyond his control and again, they found their way to her. Driving her up. Driving him mad with need. Her world and control slipped away as he brought her pleasure to a peak, but it wasn’t only her world that was slipping away. His world disappeared into only her. There was nothing else left, no ocean crashing, no crying seagulls, nothing except her, lost in her arms.

  She gasped out his name as she teetered on the edge of that climax. Her pulse roared in her ears and had she been conscious of the rest of the world beyond her own intense desire, she would have wondered why it didn’t burst at that moment, how she had survived. She sighed as he rained kisses over her skin and ran his fingers over her, driving her further up until she was just about to plunge head first into oblivion. Then, when she thought she was at her peak, he would pull his hand back and kiss her, leaving her senseless. Her moans joined the roar of the waves outside.

  Mikayla’s clever fingers sought him out. When her fingers wrapped around him, Will exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Then, his eyes met hers. Her normally bright blue eyes were dark, like the ocean outside, drawing him in, threatening to swamp him with need.

  “Will…” his name washed over him, pulling him in, drowning him in her need and his own ache. Her body arched beneath him and as she teetered on a peak, he slid into her, feeling her wrap around him. Her name whispered from his lips as she surrendered to him. Heat surrounded him and he was aware of nothing except that heat, except her. She wrapped around him and moved with him, driving them both towards that cliff. He clung to her and when she plunged into another world, he buried his face in her hair and fell, falling into that same oblivion.

  Chapter 21

  Spray crashed over the deck, soaking her skin and hair even as a breeze captured her hair and dragged it into her mouth. Teal blue straps covered shoulders tanned from too many hours spent wiling away hours in a bright spring sun. Teal blue eyes danced as lusty laughter floated in the air, rising and falling with each of the waves. Sunlight streamed through the cheerful cherry red sail slapping madly in the ocean zephyrs. The Mediterranean spread out before them in a mad dance of azure blue. It was a perfect afternoon.

  He tightened the jib and wrapped the rope around his arm. His eyes stayed trained on the horizon as Amor disappeared into the haze of the afternoon behind him. Wild blond hairs fell across his face, falling into laughing gray eyes, eyes that didn’t stop laughing even as the wind changed directions and he battled to keep Anonymity under control.

  Mikayla leaned back, enjoying the moment, forgetting there was a world beyond those blue waters, forgetting death and destruction as she steeped herself in the scents of the sea and the man who swore under his breath in three languages. Spray coated her in salt, but it was peaceful out where only the dolphins and sea gulls danced. She sighed again and smiled to herself. She watched Will’s lithe body covered only in navy swim trunks move around the boat, dropping the anchor, and tethering the sails. Finely-toned muscles rippled across his back as he stretched and moved, lost in the task of dealing with a sailboat. Broad shoulders and well-shaped muscles narrowed into hips that tapered into perfectly sculpted legs. It was quite enjoyable watching him when he didn’t know she was watching him. Lust filled her as sunlight shot gold through his hair. She felt like a Cheshire cat who had just lapped up all of the cream until her heart flip-flopped when he shot a quick, heart-melting grin over a shoulder. She couldn’t help it, even though she argued that her reactions, though natural, were wrong. She reminded herself that the world still existed and what existed between them was as much a fairytale as a the story of Cinderella. Memories of murder and mayhem picked at the edge of her memory even as Will’s arm slipped around her shoulders pulling her back into fantasy. He leaned his head against hers and pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

  “I understand why you didn’t want to tell me, Will.” She hadn’t meant to say it. She hadn’t even realized she had been thinking it until the words were out of her mouth. Once they were in the air, she couldn’t take them back. She waited through the silence and still as his lips ceased to press against her, but he still leaned against her. The only sound was the soft slapping of the waves against the hull and the creaking of the boat beneath them.

  Will leaned back and stared at her profile, memorizing the proud tilt of her head as she gazed straight ahead, memorizing the long lashes that shielded deep blue eyes. Wild, auburn curls ringed her face where they had escaped the messy bun at the back of her head. Shocked once again at her beauty, but tense with desire as he memorized curves that showcased well in a teal blue barely-there bikini, another surprise from someone who was so practical in everything. There was nothing practical about this little number. He had to admit, he had enjoyed watching the jean shorts slide from perfect hips to the deck to reveal a swatch of clothing that was probably illegal in many countries. He thanked his lucky stars they were in the Mediterranean. She practically killed him when she had removed the simple white t-shirt to real little triangles of matching teal. He remembered vaguely licking his lips.

  Now, he sighed and reached for the picnic basket beneath the seat. He said nothing, not knowing what to say.

  “What do you mean, you understand, Mikayla?” His heart hammered in his chest; his breath caught. He didn’t know why he was nervous. There was no reason to be. He had been honest with her, mostly, he reminded himself. There was nothing to cause this nervousness that filled him. He carefully began to unpack the meal a cook in the Secluded City had carefully packed, believing that the lovely professor was too thin, and that the prince was too desperate.

  Mikayla turned her head slightly and leaned forward. Her hand stilled Will’s as he unpacked the French bread and wine. She waited until those stormy eyes were on hers. “I know about Jonathan and his death. I understand why you would want to hide.”

  Will raised his head and looked into her eyes. Her blue eyes were warm, reflecting love that filled her own heart and also sadness, he supposed, for the boy who had killed his own brother. He started to speak but she pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. There was also something there that broke his heart: distrust.

  “You don’t have to say anything. I already told you I understand. I’m sorry I was mean to you before. It is unforgivable.” She smiled when he pressed a warm kiss to her fingertips and then took her hand in his own, turning it to press his lips to the back of her hand.

  “Mikayla, I want to tell you, but it’s difficult… I want you to know what happened. I want you to know how I killed my own brother, the true heir to the throne.” He released her hand and opened the bottle of wine, catching the scent of it in the air. A perfect vintage, of course. Nothing in Amor was ever less than perfect, except perhaps for the royal family. He poured carefully into the crystal goblets from the basket. He handed one carefully to Mikayla’s hand, their fingers brushing intimately. H
is voice became far away, as if he were in another time and speaking to her.

  “It was a beautiful day when we first set off, the three of us. Jonathan had just returned for summer hiatus from Oxford. He was twenty-two at the time.” He smiled at the memory of his brother. “He was tall, good-looking, dark gray eyes and tons of wild blond hair. Women loved him. He was the most eligible bachelor in the magazine, GQ, that year. He thought that was very funny.”

  Will settled into the seat and sipped from his glass. He swirled the merlot in the glass, watching the sun catch the perfect burgundy of the wine and shoot fire through it. He wrapped one arm casually around Mikayla’s shoulders, not realizing that despite the casual air, he needed it. He needed her touch. She was comforting. He hadn’t realized how easy it would be to tell her the story, with her warm beside him, listening and offering no comment, merely listening as no one ever had before. “He was brilliant. He would have made an excellent king. He had a mind for it, and he expected to become king. I had returned from England with him where I had just matriculated from Eton College. I was planning on attending school in London to study photography. I was the youngest, after all, since Victoria is four minutes older than I am. I was also the second son. I would never inherit the throne, and truthfully, I didn’t want it.” He paused. His voice became soft. “I still don’t want it.”

  He sighed deeply and continued, lost in his memories, hardly aware of Mikayla’s presence as he traveled through time in his mind. “It was my idea to go sailing. I’ve always loved the sea. I had this little skiff that I liked to take out into the water when the weather was perfect. It was perfect that day, but I forgot to check the weather forecast. They were predicting squalls; if I had checked, I would have known. We would have never gone out.” Will swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. “Jonathan was a poor swimmer. He was also afraid of the water. We went out in the boat. We were having a wonderful time until a squall came upon us, out of nowhere, just like they always do. It hemmed us in. The wind seemed to be coming from all directions at once. The sails were getting torn apart in the wind. I had to go rev the engine to get it started. I made sure Jonathan and Victoria both had on their life jackets. I went below. It was while I was down below that the boat rolled on its side, throwing me all over the place.”