His eyes went wide he lifted his hands in front of him. “I had to be sure.”
“What about trust?” She thrust the knife into the air.
Hunter continued to back up. “I trust no one.”
“Could have told me that before you tried to kill me!”
Hunter laughed. The man laughed! “I would never have killed you, my sweet.” He winked. “I was merely testing you. You passed, by the way.”
“Oh.” Gwen laughed. “I passed, well, fantastic! That makes it all worth it, now, doesn’t it?”
“Yes?” Hunter lifted an eyebrow and made his way toward the door.
“Don’t you dare,” Gwen ordered as he reached for the lock. Like a typical man, he didn’t listen, nor did he take her threat seriously. So she threw the knife at his hand.
And missed it by an inch.
Hunter cursed a blue streak and glared at her. “You could have stabbed me!”
“If I had meant to stab you, my knife would be buried in your neck up to its hilt, Wolf.” Gwen lunged for him, angrier than she had ever been in her entire life.
Hunter wasn’t a typical agent. He didn’t shy away from female spies. No, instead he fought back. Which intrigued her more than she was willing to admit.
He threw her against the wall, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. “I had to be certain.”
“You could have just held me at gunpoint. You didn’t have to kiss me! Or, or touch me!”
Hunter’s eyes went dark as he leaned in and sniffed her neck again. “Yes, yes I did.”
Gwen went still. His scent, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming her good sense. Her lips tingled with the memory of his scorching kiss.
“You hurt me,” she mumbled as he held her in place.
“Then allow me to kiss and make it better.”
She had no time to respond as Hunter bent down and kissed her neck. A hungry growl erupted from his lips, and he pushed his body against hers.
Gwen bit at his lip. He cursed but continued to kiss her. “I hate you,” she murmured.
“I hate you too,” he agreed, and his tongue chose that exact moment to plunge into her mouth and greedily take possession.
Her body jerked against him, wrenching free of his grasp. “This needs to stop. We’ve crossed so many lines…”
“Forget the lines. I never was one to follow rules anyway.” Hunter released her hands and lifted her into his arms. She had no choice but to cling to him as he continued to do wicked things with his tongue, things no debutante should experience on her first come out.
“Stop,” she said breathlessly.
Hunter released her. They simultaneously stepped back from one another.
“I’ve been very… er…”
“I think the word you are looking for is bad. You’ve been very bad, and clearly you’re losing your mind.”
“That, too.” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “The thing is…” He paced in front of her. “I cannot just have one taste. The more I taste, the more I want.”
“And when did you first realize you had a drinking problem?”
Hunter’s head snapped up. He rolled his eyes. “If only it were a problem that could be solved with drink.”
“Am I the problem?” Gwen asked as she clenched her dress between her hands. Unable to trust herself to keep from touching him if her hands were not occupied. He was too beautiful. Firelight danced off his high cheekbones and his eyes. Those eyes that women nearly fainted over. Golden brown eyes stared back at her through dark sooty lashes. A woman could experience the greatest of pleasure if only she looked into his eyes. For his gaze was like a physical caress.
“Yes.”
“Pardon?”
“You asked if you were the problem, and you are. Now that I’ve had a taste, I do not think I can keep myself from hunting you.”
Gwen noted the seriousness in his voice. “Are you sure you have good enough equipment to engage in such a hunt? We wouldn’t want you to… misfire.”
Hunter groaned.
Gwen smiled. “Yes, I believe it is my turn to torture you. Take a good hard look, Hunter.”
His eyes scanned her hungrily from head to toe. She took a step toward him and grabbed his hand, placing it on her shoulder and running it down her chest.
“You have not earned the right, the privilege, the honor, to touch me. Next time you do so without permission, I will throw my knife, and believe me, it will be right on target.”
He squinted his eyes. “Do you truly think you are strong enough to withstand temptation?”
“Who says I’m tempted?”
“Your eyes betray you.”
“Funny.” Gwen leaned in and whispered, “I was just going to say the same thing about you.” She turned to walk toward the door until she felt Hunter’s hand tug her arm. Without thinking, she whipped around and punched him in the nose.
Hunter fell to the floor and cursed.
“Good night, Wolf.”
“Red,” he grumbled from the floor, but this time he did not chase after her.
Chapter Ten
Red—
Use my imagination? Surely I did not read that correctly! For you to give my mind free rein when it comes to you, sweetheart? Well, let us just say that is a dangerous game to play. Guess what I’m imagining right now…
—Wolf
Hunter woke the following day with a pounding headache. Most likely from the bottle of brandy needed to numb the pain from the night previous.
He quickly rang for his valet and joined everyone for breakfast.
Every bone in his body felt stiff and his muscles sore. The last thing he wanted to do today was see Gwen, but he needed to be among her admirers. Chances were, if they knew the right hook she packed, they wouldn’t go anywhere near her house.
Stupid wench. A blasted broken nose! How the devil was he to explain that?
“Got in a fight, did you?” Dominique said upon entering the dining room and examining Hunter’s face.
“Yes. A large fellow was upset with me.”
Isabelle waltzed into the room, only overhearing the last part. “What did he do, punch you?” Her eyes fell to Hunter’s nose. “Oh my! Does it hurt?”
Hunter grinned. “Terribly so.”
“You poor, poor man! Who would do this to you?”
“A beast of a man with a good right hook,” Hunter lied, and turned his gaze upon Isabelle. “It hurts very much.”
“No.” Dominique shook his head and yelled louder. “Hunter, my wife will not nurse you back to health, you fool. Now sit down before I give you another reason to be howling with pain.”
Smirking, Hunter walked to his seat.
The butler announced another guest but Hunter ignored his presence, mainly because the throbbing behind his nose was so intense, he wanted to drown in a bottle of brandy.
“I hope I’m not too late!” Gwen announced.
Coffee spewed out of Hunter’s mouth, landing directly on Dominique’s face.
“Please excuse Hunter,” Dominique said, wiping remnants of coffee from his face. ”It seems he was in a fight with a large man last night and has yet to recover his senses.”
Hunter groaned aloud.
Isabelle sighed. “Oh, it must pain you so much!”
He prayed the ground would swallow him whole.
Gwen gave him a saucy grin. “My, my, that bruised quite nicely. How tragic that you look less handsome this morning than you did last night. How big was the man, did you say?”
“Yes, tell us exactly what happened!” Isabelle turned toward him, her eyes full of worry.
Cursing Gwen to perdition, Hunter gritted his teeth. “I was walking along the street when all of a sudden—”
“Which street?” Gwen interrupted.
“The one…” Hunter shook his head to clear it. “The one outside.” He inwardly cringed.
“Did he hit his head as well?” Gwen asked, taking a seat. “Hunter,”
she directed her attention back toward him, “was it the street in front of Montmouth’s house?”
He was an absolute idiot. “Why yes, I believe so.”
Gwen nodded.
Isabelle and Dominique sat in silence, waiting for the rest of the lie, no doubt.
“So, you were walking down the street?” Isabelle finally patted his arm.
“Yes, when out of nowhere someone jumped out of the bushes and—”
“—there are no bushes in front of Montmouth’s house,” Gwen pointed out.
Hunter cursed. “Perhaps you should tell the story, my dear, considering you seem to remember it so much better than I?”
Isabelle gasped. “You were with him! Oh, sister, weren’t you frightened?”
“Terrified,” Gwen said through clenched teeth.
Hunter grinned even though it hurt like the devil. Let’s watch her talk her way out of this.
“But imagine my surprise…” Gwen lifted the cup of tea to her lips and blew softly across it, making what truly was his favorite anatomical part flare to life. “When the large man merely stole some of Hunter’s money and continued down the road. Strangest thing, for Hunter refused to fight back. Something about being a lover, not so much a fighter. Isn’t that right, Hunter?” Gwen smiled sweetly and winked.
He was going to kill her.
No, he was going to tie her to a chair and then…
Blast. He needed to stop his imagination before it got out of hand.
“Er, yes,” he grumbled.
Dominique tilted his head. “Then who was the gentleman that gave you the black eye?”
Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but Gwen beat him to it. “Oh, silly man, how could you forget?” She laughed. Everyone joined in even though they had no idea why they were mocking him, yet it seemed Gwen did. He couldn’t wait to hear the ending to her sordid tale. Would she explain her involvement?
He took a sip of coffee and waited.
“I punched him.”
The liquid, of course, spewed out of his mouth for the second time that morning, as well as every curse underneath the sun, causing Isabelle to turn red and Dominique to push back his chair as he jerked to his feet.
“Gwen?” Dominique looked between the two of them. “Whyever would you punch him? And Hunter, I’m dreadfully sorry for saying so, but what a wonderful right hook you must have, my dear!”
Gwen beamed. “Thank you.”
“Yes, let us all applaud her for assault.” Hunter clapped loudly and groaned, leaning his head onto his hands.
“He tried to kiss me,” Gwen blurted.
Isabelle gasped and then burst out laughing.
“What!” Dominique roared as he stomped toward Hunter and grabbed at the lapels of his smart jacket.
“Ah, so the Beast returns,” Hunter joked, though truly he was expecting Dominique to blacken his eye as well. He even turned his face just slightly so the Beast would hit the right instead of the left. After all, the left was his good side.
“I’m not going to hit you.”
“He screams like a girl when you do,” Gwen helpfully added.
Hunter cursed again.
“Cease cursing in front of gently bred ladies,” Dominique growled, releasing him.
“Calling the kettle a bit black, are we?” Hunter smirked, then took a step back as Dominique lunged for him again.
“Why her? Out of all the women you can dally with.”
Gwen began choking. Isabelle hit her across the back.
“Why my sister-in-law?”
“It was dark.”
The room fell silent.
“Pardon?” Dominique’s eyes widened. “That is to be your excuse? It was dark? What, pray tell, were you trying to do, then? And how did it turn into a kiss?”
“Assault,” Gwen said. “It was more of an assault.”
“Helpful,” Hunter muttered. “Oh, calm down, Dominique. Truly I meant no harm. I thought she wasn’t breathing. I was merely trying to help.”
“By kissing her?” Isabelle piped up, her grin wider than that of the cat that got the cream.
“Why, yes. Thought it would shock her system and all that.”
“And why wouldn’t she be breathing?” Dominique clearly felt the need to ask something intelligent.
“After the robbery, she panicked. You know women, they tend to get all out of sorts when there is danger. I believe she even screamed.” He peered around Dominique and saw Gwen roll her eyes. “Truthfully, you should thank me.”
“For?” Dominique was incredulous.
Hunter grinned smugly. “Saving her life.”
Isabelle cleared her throat. “Thank you.” She truly was the sweetest woman, and the only one to tame Dominique. He glared at her, and she glared back, standing her ground, then nodded toward her husband.
Dominique’s eyes narrowed at Hunter. He leaned in and whispered into his ear, “If you touch her again, I shall kill you and bury the body in Russia.”
Hunter felt himself pale, mainly because he could see his friend doing it. Dominique’s family had all but betrayed him, and his father had tried to kill him twice, so his remaining family was immensely important, and he was fiercely protective, which suited Montmouth’s needs just fine, considering he was no longer the only protector of the three sisters.
“Have I made myself clear?” Dominique asked.
“Crystal.” Hunter squirmed beneath his stare and went back to his seat. Gwen smirked at him and winked.
He smirked back, made sure Isabelle and Dominique wouldn’t be the wiser, and then licked his lips and blew her a kiss.
She turned red.
He bit his bottom lip, allowing his gaze to travel down the expanse of her dress in approval, then looked away.
They finished breakfast in what could only be described as a pregnant silence, where Dominique took special care to play with the knife on the table and Isabelle glared at her husband every time it clanked against a glass.
Gwen chose to ignore Hunter completely, which irritated him. How could she ignore him when he was having the devil of a time keeping his gaze away from her perfection?
Pride told him it was because he looked like he’d had a fight with the devil and lost. Perhaps women weren’t attracted to men they could successfully punch.
“Gwen, are you taking callers this afternoon?” Dominique asked, clearing his throat in the awkward silence.
Gwen stole a glance at Hunter then looked down at her lap. “Why yes, I believe I will be receiving callers at Montmouth’s residence. I do hope some men show up. After all, I desire a husband above all else.” She blushed convincingly and ducked her head like an innocent virgin, which of course made Hunter think of all the ways his body was willing to rid her of said virginity.
Hunter flexed his hand, causing the fork to clatter to the floor. He mumbled his apologies and quickly picked up the discarded silver.
Dominique smiled genuinely at Gwen. “I’m sure you will be the toast of the ton.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Hunter said dryly.
“What has gotten into you?” Dominique snapped.
“Forgive him,” Gwen intervened. “After all, Hunter had a rough night. Not many men escape my presence unscathed.”
There was too much truth to that statement.
“And we cannot all be as clever as wolves when it comes to escape, now, can we, Hunter?”
Isabelle looked at Gwen curiously. Dominique did the same. Hunter wanted to laugh. The girl had no idea that both of his dear friends knew of his current involvement with the War Office, as well as his plans this Season. She was doing nothing more than causing them to be suspicious of her.
So he added more. “But of course, if a woman in a red cloak was to lead me down the path, I would have no choice but to follow her out, in hopes that she wouldn’t lead me astray.”
“Red is the color of treason.”
“No, my dear.” Hunter grinned. “It is the color of lust.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Dominique lifted his eyes heavenward.
But Hunter kept his eyes trained on Gwen. A challenge had just been given. He was not about to run away from a tiny woman. No matter how much of a punch she possessed. No, he was going to hunt her, he was going to chase her, and make her wish she had never awakened the Wolf in the first place.
With a cheerful smile, he lifted the coffee to his lips and chuckled. He had plans to make.
Chapter Eleven
Wolf—
Imaginations are a funny thing. For this moment, I am imagining you being shot with my favorite pistol. Do tell, how many duels have you had to fight because of your lack of self-control? After all, wolves are rarely known for their restraint, and I believe I’ve experienced that firsthand.
—Red
Gwen donned her afternoon gown and sat demurely on the sofa. Isabelle had begged to join her during her first day receiving callers. The three sisters sat in relative silence as they waited for the first gentleman to arrive. According to Rosalind, flowers had been delivered all morning. They now littered the blue salon, making her eyes water.
Weren’t flowers supposed to make a woman swoon? Or perhaps smile? It did nothing except fill her with disgust. None of these men knew her, knew who she really was, or the things she had put herself through for the wellbeing of her family.
She sighed and took a sip of hot tea.
James, their butler, walked in and cleared his throat. “My lady, you have callers. The Earl of Trehmont and Viscount Redding.”
Lovely.
“Gentlemen.” Rosalind rose and greeted both men. In Gwen’s eyes, Rosalind was by far the most graceful woman she had ever encountered. She was also strong, unyielding. Isabelle was similar. With golden brown hair and bright blue eyes, she was every man’s fantasy. Whereas Gwen, well, Gwen was nothing. At least she felt like nothing when she sat next to her sisters.
The only time she had ever felt beautiful had been when Hunter kissed her upon their first meeting. And look where that had led her, down a dark path of lust-filled gazes and promises of seduction.
Redding was the first to speak up. “I do hope you’ve received my flowers, my lady. And may I say how lovely you look this afternoon?”
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