Wolf of Arundale Hall

by Jennifer Leeland

  He pounded his fist into the window molding. Had he come home only to see his brother killed for a crime he didn’t commit? Had Joshua’s homecoming been too late?

  Elizabeth’s voice startled him. “It’s late, my lord.” He whirled around and found his wife holding a tray. She placed the tray on the desk and calmly began to pour tea.

  Tea. What he wanted was brandy.

  “And you think tea will calm my nerves?” he scoffed. “I’m not Melinda, for God’s sake.”

  Her countenance was serene. “No. She would be incapacitated with the vapors.”

  He laughed and sat down to allow Elizabeth to serve him tea in one of the delicate cups. While he watched her, he marveled at her grace, her steady hands. Beauty could be found in strange things. He’d learned that in Jamaica. But nothing compared to observing a woman prepare and serve tea.

  A man he’d met on the ship over had been in Japan and had told Joshua about a tea ritual they did in that wild place. He wondered if it was as graceful as his wife’s movements. And she was correct—just the action of taking tea calmed him as no glass of brandy would have. How had she known that?

  She glanced up and caught his gaze. “Our wedding day.”

  “What?”

  Her smile was gentle. “You were so nervous, so rattled. Remember? I defied Lady North and went to see you.”

  The memory flooded back. She’d arrived in her riding habit, her hair windblown and wild. He’d been a mess, his stomach in knots, his emotions in turmoil. The Beast had been close all morning, threatening to destroy the special day that was planned.

  She’d taken one look at his pale, sweaty face, stripped off her gloves and made tea.

  Surprisingly, it had worked. The Beast had subsided and he’d been able to survive the wedding. Elizabeth had been so sweet, so beautiful. How could he have left her? “Elizabeth—” His words died on his lips. What could he say? “I’m sorry”? How inadequate those words were.

  She met his gaze. “Yes, my lord?”

  He growled, a low, rumbling sound. “Don’t call me that. You never did before. Not until…” Not until you hated me, despised me for the coward I was then.

  Elizabeth blinked and set her cup down. “I suppose I didn’t. I’m sorry, Joshua.”

  “Don’t,” he said hoarsely and his cup clattered on its saucer. He set the damn thing down, all the comfort gone. “You have no reason to apologize to me. Ever.”

  She peeked over the rim of her cup. “I almost shot you.”

  “I deserved it.”

  “I hit you with a crop.”

  “And I spanked you.” He watched color climb into her cheeks.

  “Yes, you did. But you’re not sorry for that, are you?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  She placed her cup on the desk and rose. “I’m very tired.”

  “No you’re not,” he said smoothly.

  She straightened her spine and glared at him. “It’s been a very long day and—”

  Joshua stood, crowding her, knowing he was playing with fire. What he ought to do was leave her alone, let her go to her cold bed. The Beast within him howled with frustration and need.

  Tired and worried, he didn’t have as much control over the Beast as he should. And Elizabeth didn’t seem interested in escaping him as he essentially stalked her across the room.

  In the candlelight, he noted her dilated pupils, her quickened breathing and her trembling fingers. His sharpened senses picked up the scent of her arousal and fear, an intoxicating cocktail more dangerous than any brandy.

  A crack of lightning briefly lit the room and thunder rolled. The air in the library was thick and muggy, the mixed smells of rain and desire filling him with anticipation.

  His mate had frozen in place, her body still and waiting. But when his arm shot out to grip hers, she exploded, her hand connecting with his cheek as she tried to run away from him. He was immovable. She belonged to him and he needed her, wanted her.

  Loved her.

  Another flash of light and a loud clap of thunder shook the windows. He stared at her, their gazes clashing as violently as the air outside. Then he yanked her into his arms, his desperate lust and emotion more powerful than his restraint.

  They collided in a tangle of limbs and lips, hers as insistent as his, demanding surrender. He thrust his hands through her hair, disrupting her careful coiffure. She clung to him, taking his breath away with her sensual insistence. Without clear thought, he backed her against the library bookcase, heedless of the books knocked to the floor by the violence of their collision.

  Material tore when Joshua yanked at her clothing, the Beast desperate for skin-to-skin contact. His mate seemed just as anxious, her fingers plucking and pulling at his shirt. A growl rumbled low in his chest and claws extended to slice through her dress, her shift, everything that stood between him and his desire.

  When her bare breasts touched his chest, he groaned against her mouth, his reason gone, his passion washing through him. Yet he wanted her as aroused and needy as he was. He kept his trousers on and lifted her by her hips so her pussy pressed against his crotch. The sensation was exquisite torture and he turned, carrying her, her mouth still fused with his, to the library divan.

  There, he laid her down and pinned her to the cushions. His good intentions of waiting for deeper emotions, for her love, were thrown out of the window. He needed desperately to claim her, to show her that she could never escape the truth.

  She belonged to him.

  *

  Beneath Joshua’s heavy weight, Elizabeth gloried in his touch, in his skin against hers. She arched helplessly, her damp junction sliding over the rough material of his trousers. Need supplanted fear and she surrendered to the inevitable.

  Later she would have regrets, when he left her again, unwilling to stay with her. No amount of reassurance from him would convince her that Joshua would remain by her side. But she would have this moment, this passionate embrace, to remember, to cherish.

  Her body was his instrument and he was an adept player. As if they were the strings on a harp, he plucked at her sensitive nerves with his fingers, his mouth, the press of his cock against her thigh. Enthralled, she shifted to move closer to him, to capture the heat emanating from him.

  He loomed over her, his face etched with pain and desire. “Grip the hand rest, Elizabeth.”

  She blinked and lifted her arms over her head to grope for the arm rest behind her head. The action lifted her breasts for his hungry perusal and she gasped at the focus, the intensity of his gaze.

  The storm broke outside, rain cascading against the windows just as the flood of passion exploded between the two of them. His hands stroked her skin, molding her curves. He captured one of her nipples with his mouth, the suction sending pinpricks of electricity shooting through her. She cried out and arched her back, thrusting her flesh deeper into his ravenous embrace.

  His fingers pinched her other nipple in quick staccato nips and her hips rose in time to his touch. She squirmed beneath him, desperate for relief, for that unnamed pinnacle that seemed just out of reach.

  When his mouth slid over her belly she froze. His tongue, rough and hot, circled her clitoris, never touching the bundle of nerves, driving her to distraction. She gripped his hair in a panicked clutch as her body tightened unbearably.

  He growled and the sound vibrated the bones in her pelvis. She shuddered and tried to press his head closer, seeking relief from the torturous tension that assaulted her. Finally, when his tongue touched her erect nub, she let out a keening cry as the muscles of her inner walls contracted. Again and again, he sucked, licked and drove her to another orgasm, until she didn’t think she could crest again.

  “Joshua,” she said weakly.

  Convulsions shook her and he loomed over her. Tears dripped from her eyes and she turned her gaze away from him, a blush of shame washing over her cheeks. He gripped her chin and forced her to face him. “You are so beautiful,” he whisper
ed.

  “Please, don’t do this,” she said in a broken voice.

  “Don’t do what, sweet flower?” He stroked her cheek and kissed away the tears.

  “You know.”

  “Claim you? You are my mate,” he said and thrust his cock deep within her. The sensation of being filled made her cry out and tears spill down her cheeks.

  She arched her back, her hips twisting to deepen his penetration. His fingers danced over her breasts. He drove into her relentlessly, until she was close to release, and held still.

  “You belong to me—say it.”

  When her eyes flew open, his dark expression both frightened her and thrilled her. To belong. To be his. She always had been. “I belong to you,” she whispered.

  “And you will obey me.”

  Her heart lurched and her lips trembled. “No. Do not ask it.” She couldn’t do it. Total surrender meant she would be at his mercy, vulnerable.

  But he was implacable. “I swear I will not abandon you. Obey me.”

  “Joshua,” she said, her voice filled with pain. “How can you ask it of me?”

  “Because I need you, Elizabeth,” he admitted.

  Her gaze met his. It was strange. His cock deep within her, he could take what he wanted. But he seemed to want more from her. Surrender.

  “I…will obey you,” she said and closed her eyes, tears squeezing from between her lids.

  “Oh, my sweet flower,” he said. “I’ve hurt you. I will make it better. I swear it.” He moved slowly within her and leaned down to take her mouth tenderly.

  Passion exploded between them but he kept the kiss deep and slow. She moaned into his mouth and her hips shifted, causing electricity to run down the length of her spine.

  Make me forget the words I know are just lies to gain my body. Make me believe this is love.

  She nipped at his mouth, demanding, needy. He thrust his hands into her hair and held her gaze while he slammed his cock inside her again and again. Her eyes squeezed shut and he captured her scream with his mouth.

  He tore his mouth away and, when he came inside her, he let loose the wild roar of his Beast. He streamed inside her and she thrashed beneath him, her own orgasm extended and intensified. She milked him dry and he collapsed on top of her.

  The claiming he’d begun ten years ago was complete. Now she could never escape. Her inner thigh burned where his mark had always reminded her of the man who had left her. She hissed with pain as the sensation swamped her, combining with pleasure and creating an odd frisson of need.

  Pain. The pain of joining with this man cut deep into her soul. Reality returned and she realized what she’d just done. He’d taken her as his own on the divan in the library, not the traditional bed chamber, where a married couple’s private secrets were kept. But here, where anyone could have seen them.

  Another blast of lightning illuminated the room and she turned her face into the cushions, humiliated by their position. She wasn’t any better than the women Perry used. Not to Joshua. Mate or not, he took her where he wanted and cared nothing for the situation afterward.

  Of course, neither had she.

  Still intimately connected to her, he seemed to sense her withdrawal. But instead of demanding some kind of resolution, he gently stroked her hair, his lips trailing a path down her cheek. The tenderness almost unraveled her. He was her mate, the man she was fated to love and the Beast she was destined to tame.

  Yet her heart was desolate and cold, even in the warmth of his lovemaking. Ten long years of waiting and wanting had not made this an easy victory. Her momentary capitulation had been only to satisfy the lust within her, a lust that had grown unbearable since he’d come home.

  He sighed heavily. “How long will you hate me, little flower?” he asked her.

  She glared up at him, her pussy still filled with him, her senses still spinning. “You expect miracles?”

  He slid a finger down her face. “You are a miracle.” His exploration continued and goose bumps rose on her skin where he touched her. “I’d hoped I could prove that my feelings are unchanged.”

  “Mine, however, are changed,” she insisted. Deliberately, she set out to deceive him as her pride demanded she should. He could not know how desperately and deeply she loved him. Her feelings had changed. That young girl he’d married had had no concept of love. The abiding love that had grown did not resemble the childish yearnings she’d begun with.

  He seemed unfazed by her declaration. “Then I must do what I can to win you,” he said softly.

  She snorted. “What man courts a woman he’s already bedded?”

  “A man who has much to make up for.”

  So much of her wanted to believe him. But her heart had long since ceased to trust anything. Certainly any courting he did wouldn’t resemble their innocent whisperings when they were young. And not to know exactly what to expect made her extremely nervous.

  “Do not presume to know me,” she said. It might have seemed disconnected from their conversation, but he seemed to follow her train of thought.

  He gazed at her steadily. “Then show me, Elizabeth.”

  It would have been so easy to do as he asked, to take the risk, to let this sexual connection be the basis for something more. Her body had already surrendered, giving all to this man who seemed to know so much about her needs.

  But all around them in this house were reasons to reject him. People Joshua had abandoned, left to suffer, had depended on her because he had forced her to accept this bond. He had counted on her heart to lead and it had.

  Was what he asked now any different? If her heart led her again, would she finally have peace or just more suffering?

  No. He wanted too much from her. “No.”

  His face twisted in a brief flash of pain but he nodded. “All right, little flower.”

  She wanted to scream, to rail against him as he broke their physical connection. He rose from the divan and she expected him to dress, leaving her sprawled on the cushions like a broken doll.

  Instead he picked up his dress coat from the floor where he’d discarded it and held it out to her. “Put this on. You’ll get cold.”

  She didn’t trust his easy capitulation but she took the coat and stood up. It smelled like him, wild and musky. She retrieved her shredded clothing and tears welled in her eyes. The strands of material reminded her of their love. Once intact and pretty, now a mass of tangled threads and unrecognizable patches.

  When Joshua swept her off her feet and into his arms she squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking.” She wanted to struggle but the warmth of his embrace seeped into her very soul.

  “My coat is too long for you,” he stated as he carried her through the door of the library. “You might fall.”

  He walked slowly, his muscles tight and bunched. She peeked up at his face. He was so difficult to read now. When he’d been young, she’d been able to guess his thoughts, read the pain he held secret in his features. But now he was more self-assured and she didn’t know if it was an act or just his arrogance.

  They reached her bedchamber and he set her on her feet. She kept her gaze on the toes of his boots. “Thank you, my lord.”

  His large hands gripped the lapels of the coat that enveloped her. He hauled her upward, his mouth taking possession of hers. His kiss was insistent, coaxing but dominating. Her hands crept up and held him closer.

  Slowly, he released her, his lips lingering gently. “I’m here, Elizabeth. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She met his steady stare, her pulse hammering wildly, her body ready and willing to give him anything he wanted. Each time he touched her, she reached the edge of the cliff, close to jumping off and throwing caution to the wind. But to surrender to him, to allow him to own her heart again, risked too much.

  He asked for trust but gave none. He wanted her love but made no declarations himself. In short, he dem
anded everything but gave nothing. She stiffened and slid the coat off her naked body to hand it to him. “Goodnight, my lord.”

  She slipped inside her bedroom door and shut it in his face, feeling like she was shutting out a piece of her heart. As she leaned against the door, she wondered if he still stood behind it.

  Then a heartrending sound ripped the volatile air of the house. Joshua’s Beast howled, an eerie and desperate sound that echoed through the corridors and slashed her heart to shreds.

  Her tears finally fell and she pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes. His Beast expressed the pain Joshua hid, its long-mourning sound revealing the heart of the man. It took every ounce of her strength not to fling open the door and accept the offerings of that Beast. And what would it get her? Pleasure, perhaps, but nothing else.

  Joshua had wanted to come home and start where they’d left off as children, but that was impossible. As she crawled into her cold bed, the darkness enveloping her, she had never felt so alone in her whole life.

  Chapter Eight

  Breakfast the next morning was uncomfortable for Elizabeth. Melinda was sullen and unhappy, the time of her departure nearing and her attitude suffering. Twice she snapped at Gerry, her vicious tongue lashing the boy.

  Joshua had not arrived and Sara informed Elizabeth that his bed was empty. Perry was still missing.

  While Melinda’s tongue wagged, her complaints long and varied, Elizabeth’s mind wandered. Where was Joshua? Had he gone out looking for Perry? Had he finally left for good? The food on her plate held no appeal and suddenly she couldn’t sit at the same table as Melinda. When she rose, Melinda abruptly stopped talking. “Where are you going?”

  “Please excuse me, cousin. I am not feeling well.” She fled the dining room, her stomach indeed rolling.

  She grabbed a shawl and headed for the stable. Halfway there, she remembered that Shadow, her comfort and her companion, was dead. Elizabeth tightened her lips and clenched her fists. Damn this killer.