"Your assistance is not required in this matter. I will retrieve the letters on my own. The only issue will be the ensorcellment upon the paper." She laid down the napkin, but it may as well have been a gauntlet tossed to the table. Three outraged males started opining about why this was most certainly not an undertaking for a woman.
The fourth man, the one at her side, simply narrowed his gaze and said one word. "No."
She let them argue. It certainly wasn't the first time a man had yelled at her and Isabel was quite inured to it, although she did wonder how long they would continue to argue. After a raucous fifteen minutes, Ianthe solved the issue by picking up a serving spoon and banging it against a heavy brass cowbell that sat on a dresser. The men fell silent like schoolboys called to attention in the classroom.
A grudging admiration for the courtesan crept into Isabel's soul. There was something about this woman, her forthright manner, and the way she handled men. Perhaps in the new life she intended to craft, Isabel should make the effort to befriend such a woman. There were other skills that were just as handy as using a blade, like getting the attention of a bunch of rowdy soldiers.
Ianthe smiled at Isabel. "I do believe you have their attention now."
Isabel nodded her thanks. "My father's study is locked at all times, unless he is in it. I am the only one who knows how to gain access and I am the only one who knows where I last saw the letters. I can also, if caught, give the staff a plausible explanation for my presence in the house. It makes sense for me to go."
Alick simply looked at her and repeated the same word. "No."
Isabel placed her hands palm down on the table and gathered her thoughts. Did these men really think they could stop her? "I am going and that is the end to the matter. You lot would be stopped before you even gain the front hall, and that's assuming you make it past the night dogs. Unless you intend to go as wolves, but paws won't be able to unlock the doors—or do you propose to wander around the house naked?"
Ewan poured another beer and watched. Isabel had the distinct impression the aloof man was enjoying the show. Hamish drew a deep breath, took one look at his wife, and then huffed out a resigned sigh. That meant the captain and the lieutenant had capitulated, which left the two non-commissioned men.
Quinn looked on the point of mustering an argument, until Ianthe laid a hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. He cast a glance from Isabel to Alick and then back to Ianthe. A few more soft words from the former courtesan, some of which made colour rise up under the young man's collar, and then he nodded. Another man down and out of the disagreement.
That left Alick. With his brows pulled low on his face and his scar scrunched up in a scowl, he looked formidable, angry, and utterly implacable. Shame he wasn't going to get his way. Isabel dimly recollected a saying about how the bigger men were, the harder they fell. She intended to tumble this remaining obstacle from his lofty perch and wondered if he would throw a tantrum like a frustrated child told no.
Despite his fierce appearance, Isabel suspected all she had to do was fetch the red ball and toss it out the door. Finding it in the dark should keep him occupied for a few hours.
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. "Don't think you can whisper sweetly in my ear and I will cede like the pup. I have made my position clear and as your husband I expect obedience."
She sucked in a breath. There was one word that, to her, was like waving a red handkerchief at a bull. Obedience. She shied from him like a skittish horse at a shadow. She was no weak-willed aristocratic wife who would sit in a parlour, keep her mouth shut, and do as she was told. Oh no. Her nature had always driven her to rebel and marriage to the sergeant had freed her from the last golden chains of society. From what she observed of the women around her, the partners of Highland Wolves most certainly did not obey. Not unless they wanted to act the demure part for some ulterior reason.
Her temperature rose with her temper. Honestly, the man was insufferable. Not only that, he hadn't even complimented her contribution to the meal. What did a woman have to do to elicit a compliment on her newly acquired skills? Isabel couldn't hold it all in any longer and her frustration erupted.
"I made potatoes, you know. You could have said something nice about them!"
Alick's jaw went slack and his eyes widened. He looked from Aster to Ianthe, and back to Isabel. Here was a man who expected a charge from a certain quarter and instead a volley came from a completely unexpected direction. "Potatoes?"
Isabel pointed to the empty bowl. "I peeled and sliced those and you didn't even notice."
Quinn laughed. Alick's gaze narrowed, then he swallowed, but he stayed silent.
A man couldn't ask for obedience and ignore his wife's first attempt at contributing to a meal. It was too much. Isabel let out a cry and slammed her fist on the table. "I hate you."
How stupid of her, to think her husband would notice her trying. That he might see she had put some effort into helping out, even though it was new and foreign to her. To think that he might agree she was the most suitable person to retrieve the letters, despite the supposed weakness of her sex. Tears misted in her eyes and she ran from the kitchen.
She headed down the short corridor to her room. A heavy tread rattled the floor behind her. Isabel grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it shut, but before she could reach for the key in the lock, the door popped open again.
"Get out of my room!" Isabel placed her hands on her hips and stared at the giant of a man.
"No. It's our room and I liked your potatoes just fine!" he yelled back as he shoved the door closed.
She snorted in his general direction. The compliment didn't count now, not when she had to go fishing for it. Far better if it had been spontaneous and unsolicited.
He stood there, a silent brooding mountain. He was also blocking the only exit. Again. Anger flared over her limbs and his presence seemed to raise the temperature in the room. His intense pale gaze prompted a slow flush to roll up her neck.
He huffed and stared at her some more. It would seem they were at a potato impasse—or was he brooding about something else?
"You're not going to the estate on your own." His voice didn't get louder, but his tone growled, like a dog challenged over a bone. His features shimmered and the wolf glared at her and expected obedience.
Ah. He was still brooding over her lack of automatic compliance to his commands. He seemed to have forgotten which one of them would chase a ball.
"You cannot stop me." She threw her hands up in the air. What was she to do with these people? Were they so blind that they couldn't see how important it was for her to unearth the truth about her father? If he were going to be named a traitor it had to be by her hand and no one else.
Alick stepped forward and placed his hands on her upper arms, holding her before she could dart around him and dive out the window. "Blast it, woman, will you just stand still for a moment so I can talk to you?"
Energy bubbled in her body. Like a kettle on the range, internal pressure built until the lid rattled. She had to let off steam or explode.
"No!" she yelled and did the first thing that came to mind when someone laid their hands on her: She kneed Alick in the groin. Hard.
The big man let out a soft oompf and doubled over. His grip faltered and one hand dropped to cup his crotch, perhaps in case there was a second blow coming. The other hand slid as she wrenched sideways. Just as escape beckoned and she saw herself running free through the night, his fingers tightened. He propelled her forward until he had her pushed her up against the wall, the rough plaster pressing into her cheek.
"God's teeth, woman, what was that for?" he asked, his voice somewhat strained and higher in pitch, as one large hand captured both of hers and held them high above her head.
"He's my father, I have to know." She meant to hold strong, but the frustration wore her down and the words came out with a sob. Her world crumbled and she had nothing to cling to. Revenge would be her
rock but this man would take even that from her.
Warm air touched the side of her face as he let out a sigh. "If you would just listen to me, lass. I said it's not safe for you to go alone. I meant we will do it together."
Oh. It had never occurred to her that he wasn't trying to stop her, but merely wanted to accompany her. All her life people had told her no, and she assumed he would be the same. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Well, at least that was one problem sorted. Now she just had the issue of the enormous mountain pressing her into the wall. She squirmed and wriggled and tried to do something to break his hold. Her elbows were held prisoner by her ears as Alick commanded her arms. That meant she couldn't elbow him in the gut. The long skirts hampered her legs and she couldn't kick out behind her.
"You can keep squirming all night if you want. The way your arse is rubbing against me is helping me forget all about the knee to the balls." He ground his hips against her to prove his rather obvious point.
She froze. Lewd man. How could her struggling cause him some sort of arousal? Surely that was wrong. Except she knew she was a liar. Even as she fought against him, the power and strength in his body and the easy way he controlled her caused heat to bloom along her limbs. Being held captive by his gentle skill thrilled her as arousal flowed under her clothing and licked around her like a delicious and intoxicating brandy smuggled from France. It heated her blood and crooned for her to relax.
His voice whispered by her ear, "Trust me, Izzy-Cat, as much as you wriggle and fight I will not let you go. I will never let you fall."
Fall? Why would I fall? Even as the thought popped into her mind, his hand reached up and cupped her breast. His fingers found the peak through her clothing and gave a gentle squeeze that caused her knees to buckle.
"Oh." The sound left her body as a moan of wonder.
Still he held her captive as that one hand explored her body. He found the laces to the bodice of her dress and pulled them free, letting the bib front hang open. She held her breath as he reached under her shift and grazed the back of his knuckles against her bare skin.
Down and around he circled, drawing lazy patterns around her breast until she caught another moan on her tongue. She leaned into his touch as he cupped her and his rough thumb moved over her nipple. This time she bit her lip to hold in the cry.
His lips grazed behind her ear. "I'm going to let one hand go, and I want you to lift your skirts."
Denial rushed to her tongue. He couldn't command her; they had just had this particular argument. But then he licked his way up her neck and her body whispered for surrender. She could fight him outside the bedroom, but behind the closed door where no one could see, how much easier it would be to let go. Her soul ached to stop fighting and to bask in the pleasure each stroke and touch elicited.
"Trust me, Izzy-Cat, and try, please," he asked as he sucked on her neck.
His sharp teeth grazed her skin and another moan whispered from her throat.
"Yes," she answered.
He let her right hand go, but her left hand he pressed flat to the wall under his and laced their fingers together.
One-handed, she gathered up the soft cotton skirts, looping the fabric over her arm, and then rested her knuckles to the wall at waist height. The night air kissed her thighs. She wore no undergarments—indeed drawers had only started appearing just a year or two ago, and she saw no need for the things. They certainly wouldn't have protected her from the spanking he’d administered on their wedding night. Thinking of that made molten lead course through her torso and pool in her centre.
"That's my Izzy-Cat." He kissed her throat as he dropped his hand down her body.
Her stomach clenched as he passed by, over the roll of skirt, and then brushed the top of her naked thighs. She bit her lip as he stroked over heated flesh and explored her body.
Back and forth he stroked, drawing whimpers from her throat in response to his slow movements. When he slid a finger deep into her body she cried out and pressed her cheek to the wall. Two solid objects kept her upright as tremors shook her knees: the wall and Alick's body.
Isabel closed her eyes; her breathing ragged as her body embraced Alick's actions. The slow thrust seemed to melt her limbs and she swayed on her feet between wall in front and mountain behind her. One finger became two and she arched back against him. The pressure filled her and burst outward.
The roll of pleasure crashed through her body and her knees gave out. But just as he had promised, she did not fall. Alick held her up with one arm around her waist and, more than that, he held her close as she shuddered through her release. Her body clenched around his fingers as he drew the moment out.
He rained kisses on her neck and up her throat until her body stopped shivering. Only then did he turn her in his arms and kiss her mouth, a slow, gentle taking, his tongue drawing over hers as she basked in his heat.
He rested his forehead against hers. "Go to bed, Izzy-Cat. I'll be along soon."
17
Alick
* * *
Alick relaxed his hands and Isabel slid out from under him as she moved on quiet feet in the growing dark. He walked to the chair by the window and sat with his back to her to pull off his boots, then dropped them to the floor before propping his feet up on the wide windowsill. With his gaze fixed on the rising moon, he undid his breeches and freed his member.
Lord, the woman had him so hard his teeth ached. As he listened to the soft sounds of her undressing he imagined her before him instead. He envisioned the slow reveal of her milky skin under the moonlight, as her clothing fell to the floor, her dark hair free around her shoulders and draped over her breasts as she smiled at him. With the help of his imagination and one hand, he relieved his most pressing problem.
He sat staring out the window until her breathing changed to slow, even breaths. Only then did he rise, remove the rest of his clothing, and slip under the blankets.
Several hours later, the faint morning light revealed the same situation as the previous day. During the night they had gravitated to each other and Isabel was wrapped around him. Or he was wrapped around her, since he cradled her in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm was thrown across his torso and her fingers clutched a tuft of chest hair. If she awoke with a start she would rip the hair out by the root.
Parts of him still ached at the memory of how bony her knees were and he didn't want to test the strength in her fingers. But how to get her to let go without leaving a bald patch? His wolf also worried about sporting a naked spot, and if he changed would she be gripping hairs or fur? A delicate approach was new to him, but if she could try for him and slice potatoes, he would try for her.
He lifted her dark hair out of the way to expose her neck, and then he brushed his cheek against her skin first. She murmured and stirred, but didn't let go. One by one, he placed gentle kisses along the arch of her neck, down to her shoulder as far as he could reach.
She sighed and her fingers tightened in his short curly hair. Blast it! The roots of his hair had just started to protest when she flexed and relaxed her hand. Like the cat he named her for, she pawed at his torso and thankfully the tuft of hair was liberated.
A smile spread over her lush lips and her eyes fluttered open.
"Good morning. Sleep well?" he whispered. Now that he had started kissing the drowsy woman in his arms, he quite liked it. Half asleep, she didn't try to stab him or damage his bollocks.
"Yes." She arched her neck and rolled her shoulders closer to him.
Did she mean yes, she slept well, or was the yes in response to his kisses? How did one know the right answer with a woman? Especially one like his Izzy-Cat; handling her was like poking around in a gunpowder keg with a lit candle. He decided to take a risk. He kissed his way back along her shoulder and up her neck.
When she rolled and pulled his head to her, he mentally congratulated himself that he’d picked the right course of action for the situation and she wasn't going
to blow his head off with a hidden pistol. It was about halfway through the kiss that she either woke up or realised who she was kissing. Whichever it was, she pushed him away with a gasp.
"Alick." There was nothing sleepy in her gaze now. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, as though she hadn't realised it was him who held her. She raised a hand and placed it flat on his chest, about to push him away.
The cosy warmth in his body drained away with a gush. Did she dream of someone else? To think that for one short moment he imagined she was developing some affection for him. Apparently not. He cursed himself for yet again being a fool.
She pulled away, taking the sheet with her, and he could no longer see her dark gaze. With a turned face she focused on the far wall as she retreated inside herself.
He rolled to his side and dropped his feet to the floor. His breeches and a shirt lay by the bed. He pulled them on quickly and didn't even glance over his shoulder as he walked to the door. "I'll leave you to get dressed."
He washed out in the barn with a small mirror propped up on the stall wall as he shaved. Then he rinsed off in the horses’ trough, sluicing the cold water over his face and head. Feeling more wolf but less monster, he crossed the yard for breakfast.
Isabel sat across from him but she may as well have been seated at a table in China. They barely looked at one another and he had no idea how to reach her. He was starting to appreciate why her father called her the conundrum. Perhaps this was one puzzle too complex for him to solve?
The men divided up tasks for the day. Alick and Quinn would stay with the women, Ewan and Hamish would ride to the village and see what information they could elicit about Forge.
"I'm going to go sit by the river," Isabel announced and, with a book clutched in her hands, she disappeared out the door.
Alick heaved a sigh and stared at the empty spot where she had once stood. He was a fool. Oh wait, he already knew that. As did the rest of his family by now, given the silly faces he kept making at his reluctant wife. It was all right for the other two; their women returned their love. What did you do when your wolf wanted the unattainable?
Layers to Peel Page 15
