Wolfishly Yours

by Lydia Dare

  Armand flushed. “Bon Dieu, was that your arse? I thought it was your shoulder.”

  “I’m certain you did,” Gray intoned. He looked over his shoulder at Etienne, who now snored loudly. “At least mine’s asleep and can’t play with my arse.”

  “You had better put yours to bed,” Wes muttered. He looked to be the most sober of the lot, but even he was foxed. “I have a lovely wife I need to see before I go to sleep.”

  “Right. To bed,” Gray slurred. “G’night, Livi love.” He bent to kiss her cheek, but she dodged out of his way. There was no way he would put his lips anywhere near her face when he reeked of whores and ale. When she dodged him, he stumbled past her and crashed into the wall.

  Etienne woke with a grunt. “Where am I?” he complained.

  “You’re slung off Hadley’s back like a sack of potatoes,” Armand said with a hilarious giggle. “But don’t touch his arse, ’cause evidently Hadley men really hate that.”

  “I had no plans to touch his arse, you idiot.” Etienne patted the back of Grayson’s thighs. “Put me down.”

  “If I do, will you be able to stand?” Grayson asked.

  “Better than you,” Etienne said.

  Gray and Weston lowered both of Livi’s brothers to their feet, and then it was like watching a game of lawn bowling, with all the pieces wobbling.

  “Bon Dieu,” Livi murmured. She motioned toward the stairs. “Sophie,” she called.

  Sophie appeared as though conjured out of thin air. Of course, she’d probably been waiting for the opportunity to step into the corridor and intrude.

  “Which ones do you want, Sophie?” Livi asked.

  “I’ll take the Hadleys,” Sophie replied with a disgusted shake of her head. “Come along, boys,” she encouraged. When they didn’t follow immediately, she snapped, “Now!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they both said in unison, and they followed her into a nearby parlor like ducklings behind their mother. Foxed ducklings.

  Livi had a feeling her brothers wouldn’t be so easy to deal with. They weren’t nearly as well trained. “Armand, Etienne, head for the stairs and I’ll show you to your chambers.”

  Surprisingly, both Mayeux men started for the staircase, holding each other upright as they laughed at nothing in particular. They must have thoroughly enjoyed their evening with Gray, which did not speak well of her intended.

  Livi followed the pair up the steps and then pushed her way in front of them to lead her brothers to their borrowed chambers. Before opening the first door, she spun around to face the duo. “Did you even do what I asked?” she whispered to keep the Lycans below stairs from overhearing her.

  Both of her brothers stopped laughing and glanced at the other before shrugging their answer. Armand’s eyes widened as though doing so would sober him up. “I can’t remember what you asked, Liv.”

  “So glad you traveled all this way to be exactly no help at all to me.” She pushed open the first door. “One of you can stay in here and the other across the hall.”

  “We’re sorry, Liv,” Etienne said as he braced the wall to keep from tipping over. “What did you want again?”

  To find out how Gray really felt about her. She asked them to do one thing. Just one and instead they fell deep in their cups and were completely worthless. “Never mind.” She shook her head. “Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Armand reached for her hand when she started down the corridor. “Livi.”

  She tipped her head back to glare at her oldest brother. “Oui, Armand?”

  He frowned a bit and then tucked one of her stray curls behind her ear. “See you in the morning.”

  There certainly was no way around that, was there?

  ***

  Gray glanced back toward the corridor, hoping to catch another glimpse of Livi, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just seek her out on his own. “I think I’ll retire to my chambers, Lady Sophia. I find I am a bit tired. Thank y—”

  His tutor heaved a sigh. “You no longer have chambers here, Mr. Hadley.”

  Gray couldn’t have heard her correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

  Lady Sophia narrowed her eyes on him. “Had you returned home at a respectable hour, you would already be aware of the circumstances, Grayson. There simply wasn’t room for you and both of Liviana’s brothers. And since your…” she paused as though searching for the right word, “…benefactor has a home outside Bath, your things have been sent on to Lord Eynsford’s. I’m certain he’s awaiting you even now.”

  Dash? Gray somehow managed to keep from groaning. The last thing he needed was another set-down from his oldest brother. “I won’t take up much space here.” In fact, he could sleep on one of the settees or the staircase. Better yet, he could keep Livi company in her own bed. That would be just the thing. They’d be married shortly anyway. Why shouldn’t they start how he intended they go on? Because her grandfather would kill him. Or her brothers. Or all three of them teamed up. That’s why. No matter how decadent the thought, Gray would have to put it to the side for at least one more night.

  “I believe you have taken leave of your senses, Grayson. After the way you’ve behaved, I cannot—”

  “Must you always be such a martinet?” Archer drawled from the threshold, drawing Gray’s and Wes’ attention.

  Lady Sophia sucked in a breath as she placed a hand to her heart, clearly startled. “Good heavens, Lord Radbourne! What are you doing here?”

  Archer’s brow rose in amusement at her discomposure. “Why? Did you miss me?”

  “Like a hound misses a flea,” she muttered, but they all heard her, even Gray and Wes in their inebriated states.

  “Such honeyed words always drip from your tongue,” Archer said smoothly. “I am touched, sweetheart.”

  Lady Sophia’s teeth ground together. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.

  Archer strode into the parlor as he retrieved a bit of foolscap from his jacket pocket. “I was playing Grayson’s errand boy, you might recall.” Then he thrust the little bundle into Gray’s hands. “Your special license all signed and ready, though why you’re stepping so calmly into the parson’s noose is beyond me.”

  Stepping calmly into the parson’s noose? Archer was the one who’d seen to Gray’s rather hasty betrothal with all of his talk of thighs and kisses. Traveling so quickly to London and back must have dulled his brother’s memory. Gray glanced at the papers in his hand, and sobriety started to sink in a bit. “My special license.” The papers that would bind him to Livi for all time. A shiver skated down his spine.

  Lady Sophia snorted. “After the way you behaved today, Mr. Hadley, I’m not so certain it wouldn’t be in Livi’s best interest to hop the next frigate across the Atlantic with her brothers.” Gray’s mouth fell open, but she clearly wasn’t done as she gestured to his entire person with a sweep of her hands. “Do you think she deserves a man who spends his time getting foxed? Getting her brothers foxed? The kind of man who stays out until all hours of the night? Who thinks only of himself?”

  “Now see here, we were simply—” Wes began, but she shot him a withering glare that made whatever he was going to say die on his tongue.

  “Don’t get me started on you, Mr. Hadley. Your expectant wife finally returned to Brimsworth House when she was too tired to remain here waiting for you to return. Is that any way for you to treat Maddie? You should be ashamed of yourselves, both of you.”

  Wes straightened and suddenly appeared much more sober. “Is Maddie all right? Is she angry with me?”

  Lady Sophia scoffed. “Amazingly not. She didn’t appear resentful at all of your time away from her. She said something about the moon and the fact that she didn’t worry about you, because you would need her when it’s at its fullest.” She narrowed her eyes on Wes. “She didn’t sound like the Madeline Hayburn I’ve known my entire life. I don’t know what you’ve done to her—”

  “That’s because she’s Madeline Hadley now,” Ar
cher tossed in. “Knows her place,” he added, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Perhaps you could learn something from her, my lady.”

  Lady Sophia’s face turned a rather enraged scarlet, the color only Archer ever seemed able to elicit from her. “There’s not a lady I know whose place is beside any one of you. It’s too late for Maddie but Livi—”

  “Is mine,” Gray growled, waving his new special license in the air. “Holmesfield agreed, my lady.”

  Lady Sophia shook her head and said softly, “I have no doubt you care for her in your own… unique way, but perhaps you should consider what is best for Livi. You know as well as I that she’s wanted to return home ever since she arrived—”

  “I didn’t travel all the way to Lambeth Palace for no reason,” Archer grumbled.

  Their tutor folded her arms across her middle. “Heaven forbid you be inconvenienced, my lord.”

  And as a fresh round of bickering between Archer and Lady Sophia ensued, Gray exchanged a glance with Wes and then quickly escaped the room before his absence could be noted. In the corridor, he stopped in his tracks. Livi sat on the steps, her knees tucked up under her chin. She was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous sight he’d ever seen. He clucked his tongue at her playfully. “Lady Sophia would tell you that’s not a very ladylike way to sit, Livi.”

  She heaved a sigh and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Then it’s fitting, isn’t it? I mean, I’m not a lady. Not really.”

  “Then you will fit in beautifully with the Hadleys, because none of us are truly gentlemen.” He chuckled and dropped heavily onto a step beside her. He lost his balance at the last minute, as his ale-soaked brain refused to acknowledge his descent with any grace whatsoever. He grunted as he righted himself. “Hard to believe you’ll be joining our ranks in the morning?”

  “Foxed is not an attractive color on you, Mr. Hadley,” she said, her chin still pressed to the tops of her knees, so much so that her voice was muffled. Thank God he was Lycan, or he wouldn’t have heard her. She heaved a sigh. “And jasmine is most definitely not your scent. In fact, I find it to be the most noxious odor I have ever smelled and believe you should bathe with all due haste to prevent further offending me.” She got to her feet in one quick movement, one that was much too fast for him to counter.

  He reached for her, but she stepped away from him in a flurry of skirts. “Livi,” he complained. “Come here.”

  She arched one delicate dark brow at him. “Come here?” She snorted. God, that was a pretty sound. “Should I call a coach bound for Bedlam? Because you are a fool if you think I’ll allow you anywhere near my person after you’ve come home reeking of whores.” Her voice cracked on the last, and she bit back a French oath. Then Livi raised her nose into the air and said, “It’s unfortunate that Lord Radbourne wasted a trip to procure a special license. I don’t think I’ll be joining your ranks after all.”

  The words registered in his brain, but they took some time to do so. “I beg your pardon?” he croaked. “Don’t tell me you’re calling off the wedding because of a drunken night of carousing.” He got to his feet and suddenly felt much more sober than he had before. Traumatic injury had a way of sobering one up. And he felt almost as though Livi had just plunged a knife into his chest.

  She tapped the toe of her slipper against the floor. “Carousing? That’s what you call it?”

  He mulled it over for a moment. “When that’s what it is, yes.”

  “Then let’s call it what it really is. It’s whoring. And I will not marry a man who cannot be faithful.” She spun away from him to stare at a painting that hung in the corridor. “My desire for faithfulness is not one represented in most society marriages, I’m certain. But it’s what my parents had and it is my desire to have it as well. I won’t settle for less.”

  “I wasn’t out whoring, Livi,” he said. He reached for her again, but she stepped out of his grasp.

  “Then why do you smell like a perfume-scented wench has crawled all over your person?” She pointed to her pert little nose. “You forget, Mr. Hadley, that I have senses very much like your own.”

  “Oh, that,” he said with a heavy sigh. Damn the Mayeux brothers. They’d known exactly what they were doing at the time. Looking back on the evening, there was no doubt about it.

  “Yes, that,” she spat at him.

  God, she was pretty when she was angry. Her eyes flashed furiously, and her cheeks grew ruddy. He wanted to see if she pinkened like that as much when she was aroused by lust as when she was angered. He shook the thoughts away. They would get him nowhere. Not on this night, he feared. He blamed the Mayeux brothers for that.

  Gray heard his twin’s footsteps in the corridor and looked up. His brother appeared around the corner, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. “Don’t let me interrupt. I’m simply on my way home to my wife.” He started past the both of them.

  “You may want to bathe before you return home,” Livi muttered. “To get the scent of whores off you. Although your wife may not notice, since her nose isn’t overly sensitive.” She shrugged. “Just a suggestion.” She stared Wes down.

  Wes’ eyes narrowed. He was a scoundrel to be sure, but he was a faithful one. Lady Madeline had always been the one for him and always would be. The only one. “Ah, so her brothers won the hand this night, I see,” Wes said to Gray with a heavy sigh. Then he clapped Gray on the shoulder and squeezed.

  “It appears so,” Gray muttered.

  “What hand?” Livi asked.

  “They thrust one wench after another into his lap all night, apparently well aware that you’d smell them and make a few deductions all on your own,” Wes admitted. He gave Gray a sympathetic half smile. “Pity I didn’t realize it at the time.”

  “Nor did I,” Gray said. He nodded toward the door. “Go home to Maddie.”

  Wes nodded, bowed to Livi, and stalked toward the front door. His boot steps receded until he was gone. And it was then that Gray faced Livi. The uncertainty on her face nearly undid him. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him once again. He wasn’t so inebriated now that he couldn’t catch her, however. Losing the girl of one’s dream had a way of sobering one up. What was worse was that she was hurt by it all. Dare she care for him a little? Perhaps she did.

  Even amid her protests, he grabbed her to him. “Livi,” he grunted when she kicked him in the shin. “Damn, you’re the most annoying bundle I’ve ever wanted to marry,” he muttered more to himself than to her.

  She stilled, and he pulled her soft body closer to him with his arm around her waist. She was stiff as a board against him, and she sniped, “Perhaps you should find a more cooperative bundle, then. You seemed to have no problem doing so most of the night.”

  “I had no problem finding a bundle, Livi,” he said softly, tipping her chin up so that her gaze had to meet his. “But the only bundle I want is you.”

  “Then why do you smell like a cheap whore?”

  He couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I love it when you use words dockworkers might say. Will you mumble them in my ear when we’re in bed, Livi? Or do you just mean to shock me so I won’t attempt to marry you?” He said it close to her ear as he drew her flush against himself.

  She pressed her hands to his chest.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She looked everywhere but into his eyes.

  “I smell like a cheap whore, as you put it, because your brothers thrust them into my lap all night. My guess is that they were well aware that you would assume the worst, and then they could sabotage our relationship.”

  “Relationship?” She snorted again. “We don’t have a relationship.”

  She could probably feel his aching length against her belly. If she couldn’t, it was only because she didn’t know what it was. But he was hard and ready and aching for a relationship with her. “I didn’t take a whore, Livi,” he said bluntly. How could he, when he couldn’t get her off his mind?
Livi with her tumbling hair and her foul mouth. Her wicked lower lip and her penchant for disaster.

  He wanted her to be his disaster. Because he couldn’t imagine life not knowing her. Not learning all of her nuances. What she liked for breakfast. What her breasts felt like filling his hands. What the mark on the inside of her thigh looked like. What kind of noises she would make when he slid inside her. He let his hand trail up her side to just below her breast. Her heartbeat sped up, but she didn’t push him away.

  “Let me go, Gray,” she said, her voice heavy and heated.

  “Never,” he whispered, as he dipped his head and tasted the side of her neck. She tilted her pretty little head to the side, and her hands fisted in the lapels of his coat. His hand slid up to cup her breast, and her breath hitched in her throat.

  “Bon Dieu,” she whispered, her lips close to his cheek as he ran his thumb across her nipple.

  “Believe me, Livi,” he said close to her ear. He tugged her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled it gently. “You’re the only woman I want. The only one I can think about. The only one I want in my bed.” He lowered his voice even further and pulled her tightly against his bulging erection. “The only one I want to work my way inside of, slowly, taking every inch of you until you are mine.”

  She swayed in his arms. Did he weaken her knees? He could only hope so.

  “You’re only saying such scandalous things in order to shock me,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

  “Did it work?” He chuckled, then let his teeth scrape the base of her throat. Dear God, he wanted to mark her as his for the whole world to see.

  “It takes a lot to shock me, Grayson,” she retorted.

  He took that as a challenge. God, he shouldn’t, but he did. He began to ruck her skirts up in his hands as he backed her toward the wall. When he had her back against the wall and his hand beneath her skirts, she stilled. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Shocking you,” he whispered just before his lips claimed hers.

  His fingers trailed through her curls and pressed against her silky-smooth slit, and his tongue entered her mouth at the same time his finger dipped into her heat. She moaned against his lips. He drew his finger through her slickness, bringing some of her desire forward so he could circle that little nub in a way he knew would drive her wild. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer when he found it, her tongue tangling with his until he began to circle that little pleasure point, his fingertips plying it, finding a gentle rhythm that made her lift her lips and pant into his neck. “Gray,” she cried.