Mastered by a Wolf

The Common Kind

Belladonna Bordeaux

(c) 2011

ISBN 978-1-59578-855-9

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2011, Belladonna Bordeaux. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

Email:

raven@LSbooks.com

Editor

Maria Rogers

Cover Artist

Anne Cain

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

Eliza Dogood is a half-fae-maid coming into maturity and suffering all the growing pangs caused by this life-altering time. The one aspect she’s finding harder and harder to cope with are the lurid fantasies. It’s not uncommon for her kind, but having put herself on the shelf, Eliza faces a lonely future with only her naughty dreams to keep her warm at night. Until she meets him.

William Cope has never considered how a life-mate might affect his solitary werewolf life. He’s about to find out. Eliza is the perfect woman for him. Not only is she gorgeous, she’s a willing slave too. A single caveat has put the brakes on their mating. Eliza is fae. His bite will destroy her.

Chapter One

The best laid plans of mice and lady.

Tuesday, February 10, 1814

“But Papa, I’m bored to tears.”

Eliza Dogood listened to her sister whine. The hideous sound of Constance’s shriek raked long, irritating furrows of frustration into Eliza’s normally steady demeanor. She was about to turn around and tell the classic beauty to cease her whining when her father stormed in.

Eliza bowed her head. Taking her seat near the fireplace, she kept her focus on her quickly snatched-up embroidery. Uh-oh.

“Please, Papa. ‘Tis but a short walk to the printer,” Constance wailed. The noise was nearly as infuriating as her never-ending tantrums. “’Twould be easier if my fae powers had come to pass. I could be there in a flash.” She snapped her fingers.

“Keep your voice down,” Daniel Dogood reprimanded in a harsh tone. “’Twill do you no good to wish for what is years off. ‘Twon’t make it happen sooner either. You will reach your maturity when you do.”

Eliza kept her head bent. Peeking at her sister, she wondered what ‘twould be like to teleport from here to there, probably the only fae power either of them would inherit from their father, but not even she had reached her fae maturity.

Soon, though.

Very, very soon.

The vivid and lurid sexual fantasies all fae suffered were coming with greater frequency. There were nights she’d wake desperately needing a man to satisfy her primal appetite—a sure symptom of her coming maturity.

The tingles skittering up her arms forewarned she’d soon be able to teleport. Her empathic abilities were growing by leaps and bounds but she’d never be able to read thoughts like her full-blooded father.

“Pleeaaasseee, Papa.”

The screech pulled Eliza from her thoughts.

“Nay, Constance,” Papa reiterated.

Another shriek rent the air causing Eliza to stiffen. She’d rather listen to a rusty sword honed on a dry stone than Constance’s caterwauling. Through the veil of her lashes, Eliza watched big, fat, pity-me tears waver in Constance’s cerulean-blue eyes. “Papa, I promised Robert that this year I’d send him a Valentine. At this late date, I’ll need to send it to him by rider.”

A furious scowl marred her father’s brow. “Constance, the weather doesn’t allow for it.”

Steering her gaze to the window, Eliza bit her lip as she watched fluffy flakes of snow fall to the ground.

Aye, the weather was more than foul. ‘Twas cripplingly cold and snow trapped many inside their homes. The few who walked the streets were nigh destitute. They only had but one choice: to beg for a pittance, crust of bread or a dried apple. She imagined a street urchin huddled in a doorway while the snow rushed down on him. A cold chill skittered up her spine.

A pang of pity hit Eliza hard in the chest when Constance began to whine about how unfair her life was. “Constance, please,” Eliza finally entered the conversation. “We should count our blessings that we don’t have to go out in the storm at all.” Memories of their last outing to the Frost Fair had Eliza biting her lower lip. The stalls had been packed with patrons, but around every corner were beggars. The trip to the Thames only brought home how dire the situation was for many a Londoner.

“This does not concern you, Eliza,” Constance snapped back.

“Constance, cease your nonsense.” Papa slapped his hands together with a sharp crack. “There’ll be no more talk about valentines and traipsing five blocks to the printers.” He leveled his brown stare on his youngest daughter. “Is that understood?”

“Aye,” Constance muttered.

Eliza saw rebellion brewing in her sister’s gaze. The set of her pouting mouth said that Constance was not about to give up the battle to get what she wanted. “Why don’t you write Robert a letter?” Eliza offered. “I have some stationary left.” Aye, but a few sheets, but if it stops this nonsense, ‘tis well worth the loss.

“’Tis not the same.” Constance stood and marched to the window. “See, ‘tis hardly snowing now.”

Eliza craned her neck to peer around her sister’s shawl-clad shoulders. “Really?” Regretting the cynical note seeping into her words, Eliza immediately turned her attention to her embroidery. She’d barely placed two more stitches in the altar cloth she’d been working on since before the Christmas season when Constance began stomping around the upstairs sitting room.

Eliza frowned when her sister opened her change purse and counted out the few coins she’d saved from Christmas. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m planning on walking to the printer.”

Oh, no. Forcing calm to the fore, Eliza set the bent willow hoop aside. More than familiar with the expression gracing her sister’s face, she licked her suddenly dry lips. Make her think, she ordered herself firmly. “You think he’s even open?”

“He lives above his shop. If I have to I’ll scream down the rafters to get him to open for me.”

Her heart rate blasted in her ears. “I highly doubt he’ll be able to hear you over the howl of the wind.” Eliza folded her hands in her lap to keep from grabbing Constance and shoving her in the closest room with a lock on the door. “Please, Constance, ‘tis not worth frostbite for a piece of paper.”

“Bah, we know I’ll heal. The only gift I have thus far.” She gave an indelicate snort. “As to the valentine, ’tis worth meeting a Strigoi to me.”

“Shh.” Eliza’s throat grew tight when she considered meeting one of their enemies on the street. The half-shifter, half-wielders were naught to be trifled with. “The servants.”

“Pish posh.” Constance walked to the doorway. “You wouldn’t understand aught about love, Eliza. You’ve put yourself on the shelf.”

Not by choice. A clog of emotion gathered in Eliza’s throat as she recalled reading the missive from her future father-by-marriage informing her in cold, brutal terms that her affianced had been killed in battle. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away. It did no good for her to pine over a man gone to the grave or the loss of her silly, naïve dreams.

Their widowed Papa had tried to console her, to tell her she was young and there were many more fine men out there who’d fall over themselves to call her their wife but to no avail. There was no hope left for her once she looked at all the facts.

Already of nearly a spinster’s age and with her change coming, there wasn’t time to ease a suitor into her fae nature. In other words, there wasn’t time to convince a mortal she didn’t pose a threat to him. A paranormal might suit her, but, being a half-caste put her extremely low in the eyes of the paranormal Ton. That same half-caste nature made her an easy target for a vampire. On that side, there was too much risk to her. So Eliza had done the honorable thing and stepped aside so Constance could marry. Over eighteen months ago, she’d come to terms with her lonely future. She’d entered her period of mourning for her fiancé and was yet to let off wearing black. Not because she hadn’t fulfilled proprieties’ requisites, but because she had no chance of gaining the interest of another man, landed or not.

“I’ll be back before anyone notices I’ve left.”

“Constance, this is foolhardy.”

“Not giving my beloved a valentine would be far worse than foolish. I need Robert to know he owns my heart.”

Aye, this season he owns your heart, but what of the next? “Wait at least until tomorrow. If the storm has passed, I’ll walk with you.”

“’Tis too close to Valentine’s day on the morrow, you silly goose. ‘Twill be twice as difficult to find a courier, and close to impossible for a rider to make the distance with speed.”

“Aye, but with the snow blowing today, ‘tis unlikely you’ll find a man who would ride north for you.” Eliza almost pointed out that Constance had not even received a note from her ‘dearest’ Robert since his family had traveled to their country estate for the wintertime. What’s the use in reminding her of the obvious? she thought. No use. ‘Twas the same if she engaged her sister in an argument. Constance was hell-bent to do exactly as she wanted. Even if they did toss heated words at the other all it would do was delay the inevitable. “If you aren’t home within two hours time, I’m telling Papa what you’ve done. He’ll be snarling mad, but at least if you are stuck in the snow it won’t be so long we can’t rally a search party to come rescue you.”

Constance waved away the caveat with a flourish that came from years of never being told no. “Fine. That’s more than generous.” Constance hurried to Eliza and hugged her. “Thank you.”

Eliza wondered for what. Still, she returned the embrace. Beneath her fingers, she felt Constance tremble slightly. Taking that to mean the young debutant wasn’t fully invested in her plan, Eliza repeated her warning. “Don’t forget what I said. Two hours, not a minute more.”

“Pish-posh. I’ll be home before the bell tolls one o’clock.” With that said, Constance rushed from the room.

Biting her lip, Eliza bowed her head and prayed either her father or a servant would stop Constance before she made it out the front door.

Rising, she walked to the window to peer out at the lawn situated at the rear of their London townhouse. A thick blanket of white covered what she knew were neatly-trimmed boxwood hedges. She could just make out the slight dip where the edge of the paver pathway met the lawn. Her gaze steered to the gray clouds overhead. “Oh, bother,” she muttered. The ethereal light cast off by the falling snow nearly blinded her.

For a split second she considered telling on Constance. Pulling her shawl closer around her, she nibbled on her lower lip.

I should go with her. The thought came from nowhere. No. What would happen to us if we lost our way and there was naught to sound the alarm?

Eliza turned her head to the clock ticking slowly on the mantel. Quarter past noon. “Two hours, Constance. Not a minute more.”

* * * *

“Constance!” Eliza screamed, not caring if she sounded low class. Her sister was missing. Along with her father and two of the household servants, they’d begun the search for her sister at exactly sixteen minutes past two in the afternoon. “Constance Dogood, can you hear me?”

The few people they happened across were asked if they’d seen Constance. All shook their heads before forging forward into the storm. Eliza was glad that currently the wind was at their backs. The freezing pellets of sleet hit her heavy woolen cloak with its ermine-lined hood with small taps. She wouldn’t appreciate the return trip when the wind would blow straight into her face, but she had to try to find Constance.

Around her, other people shouted for Constance. Their voices muffled by the scarves covering their mouths and the howling wind. “This is it. The printer,” Eliza called to the others. Waving her mitten-clad hand in the air, she waited until the members of the search party stood with her at the storefront.

She laid all her hopes and prayers in Constance having made it to the establishment, but because of the weather she was convinced to or forced to wait out the storm with the proprietor.

“Doesn’t appear aught are about, Miss Eliza,” Horace, the family butler, announced.

Turning her head toward the kindly, old man, Eliza nodded. She cringed against the snow and ice pelting her face. “Papa, can you knock? My hands are near frozen.” So were her toes.

She watched as Papa raised his hand and rapped hard on the door. Brushing the snow from the window, Eliza regretted licking her lips as she waited for shop keeper or his wife to come into the shop from the flat above-stairs. The stinging wind ravaged her already chapped lips.

Shivering, she waited and waited. The servants around her began to grumble. “I know someone is here,” she whispered. Please, let somebody be here. Please, let them find it in their heart to let us in. If naught else, they could harbor in the store until her father could come up with a plan as to how to find Constance.

“Thanks be to God,” she said on a shallow breath when a flicker of candle light shone against the yellowing walls. Her teeth chattered so hard her jaw hurt. Her body ached from trudging through ten inches of snow.

“By Gor, will you look at him,” Amy, the upstairs maid, shouted. Eliza caught the young woman’s hands before she signed the cross.

A wild wind ripped across them. Amy started to fall. Eliza grabbed for anything to keep her upright. A vicious curse sounded from someone and combined with Amy’s scream for help.

Eliza took a few stumbling steps to the side and nearly collided with the man opening the shop door. Her arms wind-milled and she fought to keep her balance. “Oh, no,” she cried as her feet slid out from beneath her. She slammed her eyelids closed tight, praying she wouldn’t fall on Amy.

Saved from landing on the cobblestone street or her maid by strong hands, Eliza dared to peek at her rescuer. By Gor is right. The man gripping her upper arms was too handsome for words. “Thank you…” she managed to say. Her teeth clacked together as chills shook through her.

She bowed her head away when another gust of frigid wind stung her cheeks.

“What do you want?” her savior asked. He pulled her inside the shop and released her without a second glance.

The scent of paper, ink and something totally masculine filled her nostrils. She wondered what it would feel like to curl up next to him. Her fae nature came barreling forward full force to smack her into reality. Not now.

Her brain wouldn’t let off its lurid thoughts. To have his body heat thaw out her chilled-to-the-bone frame was more than her innocent sensibilities could handle. She imagined him kissing her—touching her. Enough. “My…my…sister…” Eliza couldn’t form a cognizant thought when his tawny-colored gaze met hers and locked.

“Forgive my daughter, sir,” Papa’s voice sounded strained. “Her sister, my youngest child, foolishly went out in the storm. She was coming here to purchase a valentine.”

“Aye, Constance Dogood. She’s above-stairs with my parents.” The man waved the rest of them inside.

Eliza didn’t appreciate the glare the man sent her father, but considering outward appearances, she could understand, even sympathize with how the travesty seemed. “Constance is very stubborn.” Another violent shiver raced the length of her spine. She pushed her snow-encrusted hood back.

He shook his head and strode for a coat-tree situated in the corner of the room. Mouth agape, Eliza watched him pluck an enormous coat from the wood peg and carry it to her. Again, her mind pictured him holding her with his massive hands. Her knees buckled slightly when he draped the cloak across her shoulders.

“That is more than apparent, Miss Dogood.”

“Beg pardon?” Lord, I’m befuddled. The thoroughly tantalizing scent coming from the coat was the cause of her confusion. She tilted her head into the soft wool and breathed deeply. It smelled like pine trees, sandalwood and manliness.

“That your sister is stubborn. She’s damn lucky she didn’t lose her life from exposure.”

As if that’s possible. Eliza wanted to get angry at him for his bluntness, but couldn’t muster the energy to feel aught but intense lust and gratitude for the man and his family. “Thank you for sheltering her here.”

“As will you stay, Miss Dogood. ‘Tis unconscionable to even a common man such as myself to allow you to trek back to wherever it is you reside in this storm.” He picked up the candle from where he’d set it and motioned with an arrogant tilt of his head for the troupe to climb the stairs. “’Twill be close quarters, but I’m sure we’ll make do.”

“Sir, I couldn’t think of imposing on your hospitality,” Eliza said, her words shivering. “’Tis not far.” Her father’s dubious expression made her purse her lips. He was silently telling her not to irritate the man.

“You will do as you are told, Miss Dogood,” the man countered smoothly.

“Thank you, Mister…”

“Cope,” he stated. He closed the door and with a flick of his wrist he turned the lock. “William Cope.”

“Thank you, Mister Cope.” Eliza followed after Amy up the narrow staircase. Her father and Horace led the way.

“Don’t thank me yet, Miss Dogood,” he whispered, his hot breath on her neck raising gooseflesh on her arms. A delicious tingle tripped up her thighs to tease her core. “Like I said, ‘twill be close quarters.”

Eliza craned her head to stare at him. She nodded and returned her attention to the rivulets of melting snow tracing long paths down Amy’s cloak. Her mitten-covered hand brushed against the railing as she continued her ascent. In the back of her mind she wondered at the tone he’d used in his simple statement. Was there a hint of illicit invitation in his voice?

For the first time since she’d received the news that her fiancé was dead, she wished she hadn’t put herself on the shelf. In all honesty, she wished she’d met Mr. Cope sooner. A new image flitted through her mind’s eye. Mr. Cope thrusting into her. Holding her as she found her release.

The recollection of gifting Geoffrey with her virginity right before he’d gone off to battle put a damper on her sudden lust. Still, she couldn’t imagine Mr. Cope fumbling about in the back of a carriage, practically ripping her knickers from her and then after a few pitiful gropes sliding into her two or three times before he found his satisfaction.

Her fae side wanted more than a short tussle. It wanted so much more.

Her few married friends had laughed at her embarrassment when she finally confessed her sin. Two of them stated Geoffrey was merely nervous and assured her once they married, the marriage act would be nice—very nice. But they weren’t fae. They didn’t understand how important mating was to her kind, even those who were half-caste.

Pondering how nice ‘twould be with William Cope, Eliza felt a fiery blush creep up her cheeks.

Silly goose, she silently berated herself. A man such as Mr. Cope surely has a wife or fiancée tucked away somewhere.

More’s the pity.

Chapter Two

Like every dog, every wolf has his day, but what about the other 364 days in the year?

Fuck me, William cursed inwardly. Of all the days for him to meet his mate, it had to be this one. Having reached the landing, he peered out the tiny window. Rather than the snow letting up, it was coming down with a vengeance. The wind whipped the frosty flakes around with a fury. He couldn’t make out the next street.

Gritting his teeth, he drank in her sweet scent. Hyacinths and womanhood. It was a heady combination. To his werewolf side, she was an enticement he was going to be hard pressed not to grab up in his arms, kiss her soundly then make passionate love to her. He yearned to dominate her.

His gaze followed her fluid moves. Even carrying not only her sodden cloak but his coat as well, she had an inherent grace about her. “Mother, could you mull some wine for our guests?” he asked once he’d entered the common room.

The elderly woman he adored sent him a questioning smile but did as he told. He watched as she shakily poured wine into ceramic mugs. He tilted his head to the side when Eliza hurried over to assist. She gingerly removed his coat, set it aside then took off her cloak.

Her long mane of sable-colored hair cascaded down her back to end at the swell of her hips. He wondered whether or not her locks were as soft as they appeared. How they’d feel wrapped around his hand as he fucked her hard. Would she cling to him as he brought her to a screaming climax or would she be like other genteel ladies who lay like a lump on his bedding?

Instinctively, he felt her passion. Beneath her innocent expression and pale complexion laid a woman he longed to meet.

Tamping down his lust, he breathed deeply. You aren’t a pup. Control yourself. With the mating coming on fast and furious, he forced himself to calm. His wolf had other ideas. The beastly infection he’d received seethed and teemed through his system.

His mate’s patience with his mother, and the way she smiled gently at the aged woman endeared her to his human side. His wolf paced anxiously, roaring with desire.

Steam rose from the mug as Miss Dogood settled the hot poker into the wine.

“Eliza, fill my mug as well,” the younger Miss Dogood whined. William watched his father wince. In all honestly, he couldn’t blame his sire. Ever since Constance had banged on the shop door she’d been a nuisance. Her demanding attitude and constant harping had him on edge from the first.

“Constance, there are others here,” Eliza reprimanded but managed to not raise her voice. The sparkle in her soft, doe-brown eyes clearly said she wasn’t happy with her sister.

“Eliza, let off.” Constance sneered.

“Constance, be quiet,” Eliza snapped. A sudden flush of high color rode her cheeks and her glittering stare turned hard. “We wouldn’t be in this fix if you’d but listened.”

Noting the lack of a ring on Eliza’s finger, William took in how her bodice clung to her breasts. The way the cloth stretched across her bosom and displayed a hint of her pebbled nipples had him swallowing a groan. His cock hardened.

She was his.

“For pity’s sake, Eliza. ‘Tis not as if I’m asking you to deny the others. There’s more than enough to go around.”

“Constance, I will get to your mug when I get to it.”

William sensed she was trying to keep her temper in check. He wondered what she’d say when he announced that she was his life-mate, and come hell or high water, she was stuck with him. Most likely she’d gape at him, and then faint. He wouldn’t blame her.

Who would want to be saddled with a solitary werewolf such as him? One who stuck close to his preferred hunting grounds and kept far away from the bustling mass of humanity in London. Sighing softly, he kept his gaze on Eliza. I pity you, my mate. I’m not an easy werewolf to live with.

Infected with Wolf’s Bane nigh on twenty-five years ago, he’d come to grips with his circumstances. He detested wolves that held to the notion of ‘oh woe is me’ or ‘I’m a monster.’ They were what they were and despised by themselves or not, they had to go forward.

Sniffing the air, he caught a hint of a bloodsucker’s scent. He strode to the front window. The hairs on the back of his neck flared. His heightened instincts shouted danger.

“William?” his father’s gruff voice sounded.

William held up a hand for silence. He scanned the snow shrouded street below the print shop. A low growl rumbled in his chest when he finally spied the vampire clinging to the shadows cast by the milliner’s shop across the lane. What are you doing here?

Within the tick of the casement clock he watched the vampire toss a body away before dematerializing. Through narrowed eyes, William saw the vampire’s victim rise. Whether the blood-sucker intended to alter the lad who was struggling to gain his feet or had panicked after sensing his werewolf presence, William didn’t know. The reality that the vampire had come into werewolf territory only served as a reminder of how tenuous a situation he was in.

Not only I, but Eliza as well.

He frowned.

Turning to watch Eliza smile as she offered his father a cup of wine, he sucked in a sharp gasp. His chest tightened when he recalled seeing her standing on the shop’s stoop. She was so tiny. So feminine.

His biggest concern steered from caring for his ailing father to getting them out of London alive. ‘Twas hard enough for him to reach his parents’ home without finding himself cornered by a coven of vampires. He had no desire to engage in the war broiling between the vampires and the werewolves. Naught, whatsoever.

A few options flowed through his brain. He rejected the ones that would call for Eliza to travel after he’d left. Once he mated with her, the bedding that would occur would ensure she’d carry his scent forever. She’d be a prime target for the vampires who haunted the territory across the River Thames and the few foolish ones who hunted Chapel Hill. Streets she’d have to traverse to reach his home in Kent.

“Sir, would you care for a mug of mulled wine?” Eliza asked.

Incredibly aware of Eliza even though she stood across the common room, William shook his head. “Nay, Miss Dogood, but thank you.” Anticipation surged through his veins. Aye, once the weather cleared, he’d pitch all his unwanted houseguests out, but the elder Miss Dogood was not setting a foot outside the door until he’d stamped his mark on her.

With a strong steed and luck on their side, they’d escape the dangers of London.

First things first, divest Miss Dogood of her clothing and teach her the whys and ways of being dominated.

His smile grew to a wolfish grin when he pictured her on her knees, his cock sliding smoothly between her lips. He’d order her to service herself. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He’d watch her fingers move over the slick folds of her womanhood until she was there at the brink of climax.

Then, when she was on the edge of release, he’d claim her—body, mind and soul.

* * * *

“My dearest Robert is so looking forward to receiving news from me,” Constance’s voice carried like a gong going off in the silent chapel of a monastery. The valentine she’d ordered sat untouched in her lap. “However will I find a rider to take it to him?”

Eliza rolled her eyes in frustration. Scanning the room, she saw her father involved in a discussion with Mr. and Mrs. Cope. Amy was napping, her head tilted back against the threadbare upholstery of a sofa that had seen better days.

“What would you say, Eliza?” Constance had the good grace to blush. “I mean if you had someone to send a valentine to.”

Every inch of Eliza ached to tell Constance to shut her mouth, if for no better reason than to give their hosts a chance to get a word in edgewise. Ignoring the next volley of musings Constance wished to put in her card, Eliza adjusted her skirts around her ankles as she sat on a low stool situated beside the massive hearth in the common room. Again, she found her stare moving to the overly tall man standing at the window. So handsome.

Warmed by the wine, she leaned her shoulder against the brick and mortar wall. Her eyelids slid shut.

“Miss Dogood, would you care to see my father’s printing press?”

Immediately awake and attentive, Eliza’s eyelashes fluttered open. She pasted a polite smile on her lips. How in the world did he move so fast? Slipping her fingers into William’s proffered hand, she rose. Tiny sparks of static electricity scurried up her arm. Her nipples tightened to hard buds. A delicious bubble of warmth took root low in her belly. “That would be wonderful. I’ve only read the final product of a press.” She bit her lip when Constance snorted. “I’ve never actually seen one.”

“After you,” he offered.

“William, Lady Stanhope’s order is sitting at the top of the box. I’ve already finished the plates. Would you be so kind?” Owen Cope’s deep voice boomed in the room.

“Of course, Father.” William nodded. His smile did amazing things to her blood pressure and more so when he fixed his tawny stare on her face. “That is, if Miss Dogood has no objections.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Perhaps I should go with you,” Constance chimed in. “Propriety and all.”

The blonde was halfway off the chair she sat on when Eliza cut her off. “As you always say, Constance, pish-posh. We’re merely going to the shop downstairs.” Eliza walked to the stairwell. “I highly doubt there will be aught that could be remotely construed as improper considering Mr. Cope will be working the press.”

Part of her, a big part of her, wished William would work his hands over her body. Her fae needs grew that fast.

She didn’t say another word until they’d reached the landing. “You have to forgive my sister. She’s been over-indulged since our mother’s death. ‘Tis sad, but I am just as guilty as my papa of spoiling her.”

“There’s naught to apologize for, Eliza.”

Blood rushed in her ears. Her lessons in etiquette reared their ugly head. “You shouldn’t…”

“What?” Laughter edged the word. “Say your name. Why not? ‘Tis a lovely name.”

“Mr. Cope.”

“William.”

“Mr. Cope—” She quelled the urge to stomp her foot. ‘Twasn’t about the break in propriety but how he said her name. ‘Twas like a caress. Liquid heat moistened her feminine folds. “We shouldn’t…”

“Eliza, does it serve aught purpose to banter over familiarities?”

She knew she was at a loss, but she tried to prove her point. “’Twill if people gossip.”

“I’d kill aught who’d besmirch your name.”

Was he serious? “But what of my sister? She’s determined to marry Robert Preston next year.”

“Robert Preston?”

“Aye, Viscount of Elder.”

“Your sister is a fool.” Gone was the mirth from his tone. Nay, his whole demeanor turned rigid.

“Sir,” Eliza couldn’t help sounding offended. She was.

“Robert Preston is a notorious womanizer who has tossed his family’s fortune away on mistresses and ludicrous business investments. The man is looking for a bride who will fill his family’s coffers not the other way round.”

“Are you suggesting…” So angry she couldn’t continue, Eliza’s hard footfalls echoed in the narrow staircase. “Mr. Cope, I must protest.” About to blister his ears for what she interpreted as him calling out her father’s less than adequate financial status; Eliza opened her mouth then clamped her lips closed.

“And, Eliza, I have no reason to lie.” William moved past her and made his way to the press at the back of the shop. He read the order before locating the appropriate printing plate.

“Why would you say such things?” Angry tears stung at her eyes. “Is it because we appear poor?” ‘Twas a disgustingly obvious conclusion to her way of thinking. “I assure you, my papa has set aside a proper dowry for Constance.” Why am I bothering? He’s already passed judgment on us. For some foreign reason, coming to that conclusion struck her hard in the heart.

“What about a proper dowry for you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Are you certain?”

Suddenly furious with herself for getting caught in the discussion, she turned on the serviceable heel of her shoe. “I’m going upstairs.” She was retracing her steps when she felt his hot breath on her neck. How such an enormous man moved so fast was beyond her.

He slammed his hand on the wall just over her head, blocking her exit. She met his gaze. “You don’t come across as a woman who runs from an argument.” His deep baritone voice wrapped around her frame and caused her to shiver.

Before Geoffrey died, she’d engaged several men in heated debates, mostly concerning things young women of breeding were supposed to be ignorant of. Geoffrey had reprimanded her several times for what he deemed unladylike behavior. In those days, she was a starry-eyed ingénue who didn’t care a whit what people thought of her. Her circumstances had changed drastically since then. A soft, sad sigh stroked across her lips. “What reason have I to engage you in one?” She lifted her chin in what she hoped was a haughty affect.

Her breath caught in her chest when he dipped his head so their lips were mere inches apart. “I think you need a man who tempts both your temper and your passion, and who does so often.”

“Mr. Cope.” She gasped when his hand curled around her hip. She wanted to tell him to cease his advances, but her traitorous body wouldn’t move. A tremor of lust rolled up her inner thighs. Oh, my. Her already hard nipples tightened further. A throb clutched her core. “Mr. Cope, please…”

“William,” he whispered a heart beat before he took her lips in a searing kiss.

She tried not to react, to tell herself there was naught special about his lips moving over hers, but couldn’t. Her heart raced in her chest as his hand drifted up her side. His thumb skimmed the swell of her breast teasingly. She arched her back.

The attraction she felt for him wasn’t just potent, it was damnably addictive.

A burst of fear took hold of her. She opened her mouth to tell him to cease. His tongue brushed against hers. The throb in her crotch turned to a driving pulse of desire.

The hand he’d kept on her shifted so it splayed across her shoulder blades. He pulled her against him. Terror surged through her. The feel of his erection poking her in the belly brought her fists up to shove him off. Fighting to get away from him, Eliza recalled her one and only journey into the marriage act. Worse were the memories of Geoffrey scowling at her after he’d finished. He’d not uttered a word, not even when he’d escorted her to the door of her father’s home. ‘Twas the disappointed expression on his face that slew her. She’d almost asked him if she’d done something wrong, but kept her query to herself. In truth, she didn’t want to know what she’d done to cause his foul mood.

“I can’t,” she muttered on a gasp when William had finally lifted his head. Internally she wondered if the fear was of disappointing another man or realizing she was somehow flawed. Her reputation be damned.

“Easy, Eliza,” he rasped.

Held in his strong arms, she fought to keep her composure. “We shouldn’t.” She gasped against his shirt front. “I’m…” An apology tickled the tip of her tongue, but considering the kiss, she decided she’d naught to be sorry for except that she hadn’t stopped him before he’d put her in a compromising position.

“Who did this to you?”

Daring to look up at him, she bit her lower lip. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Who chained your passion?” He straightened his spine to loom large over her.

She slipped from his arms and took a few steps toward the printing press. Trying to seem totally entranced by the machine and completely unaffected by the kiss, she sighed when his glare followed her. “Sir, you shouldn’t ask me such things.”

“I’m your mate. I have every right to know who crushed your spirit.”

Rejecting the twinges of excitement the first of his statement started in her belly as naught more than the common term for friend; she squared her shoulders and forged on. “My spirit was never crushed.” Oh, and aye, it was, but I’d rather die than admit the whys and wherefores of it. Picking up the printing plate, she surveyed the etching. “Aside, Mr. Cope…”

“William.”

She squared her shoulders and placed the thick block of wood back on the table. “Aside, Mr. Cope, you hardly know me. ‘Tis unconscionable for us to be friends this fast. Why, we just met.” The act of him jamming his hands into the pockets of his trews drew her focus to his waist. Whether ‘twas her natural curiosity to peek at his crotch or the passionate haze she’d been fighting off since meeting him, she didn’t know, but she was compelled to let her gaze drop a few scant inches to see if he was still hard or not. Cease. It took all her willpower to not indulge her curiosity. No further. No further.

“Come here, Eliza.”

Casting a glance behind her only to find herself trapped by the printing press and shelves filled with ink and such, she steered her gaze to the shop door. Mentally gauging the distance, she peeked at him. If I’m quick about it.

“You could try to make it.”

“Beg pardon?” Now I know what an animal imprisoned in the menagerie feels like.

“There is nothing wrong with your hearing.” He strode forward. His hands left his pockets. He stopped his forward progression a mere pace from where she stood. Nonchalantly, he leaned his hip against the counter. “Relax.”

She shivered. Her throat went dry. “I am.” Her coming into maturity stirred the attraction she felt for him, it also made her feel as though she was dancing with a demon.

He chuckled. “If you are so relaxed why do I sense you are about to spring out of your skin?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Because I want to get to know you better.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You underestimate me.” He held his hand out to her. “Take it.” A long pause passed between them. “I know you yearn for me as badly as I do you.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Her heart beat hard in her chest. She tilted her head to the side, pondering him.

“I can smell your heat.”

She was as confused as ever. Her brow furrowed into a frown. She was almost certain he wasn’t a paranormal, but her lack of exposure to many of the common varieties could also be at work. “This is wrong.” There was no denying she was drawn to him. She also knew the emotions flowing through her weren’t normal. Not now.

“Soon I will make everything better.”

He said his promise so sincerely she almost believed him. “Mr. Cope…”A growl warned her to either use his given name or not call him by aught. Swallowing hard, she took his hand. Warmth radiated off his body as he pulled her with gentle insistence closer to him. “William, I’m not sure you can make this better.”

“Why don’t you tell me the truth and let me be the judge of it.”

He made it sound so easy. Telling him she was part fae was out of the question. She shook her head. Just blurt out her dirty secret and see what he made of the fiasco with Geoffrey. ‘Tisn’t as if I’m likely to ever see him again after today. Perhaps his insight can help me at least understand what happened. “Do you promise not to tell a soul?”

“I swear on my grandmother’s grave.”

What do you have to lose? “I was engaged.”

“I suspected as much.”

“How?”

“You aren’t hard on the eyes, and a man would have to be a blithering dolt to not notice you are a true lady.”

A timid laugh escaped her lips. “Well, you see, he was military.”

“Died in battle, did he?”

“Aye.”

“And you and he were intimate just before he left for his term of service.”

“You seem to know a lot.”

“My dear, I have marched for King and Country myself.” His smile was full of patience and sympathy. “You are not the first lass to watch her man walk off to battle after sharing a bed but not a marriage ceremony.”

“I sort of figured. ‘Tis that…well…when…” She waved her free hand in the air, words fleeing her mind.

His right eyebrow rose. A merry twinkle entered his unusual colored eyes. “’Twasn’t what you expected.”

She swallowed. Glad he’d done most of the work for her, she nodded. ‘Twas time to lay out her sin and pray he could help her deal with it. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

“On this front, you are going to have to tell me what transpired.” His stare was filled with compassion.

“He didn’t like it,” she blurted. “At least, that’s what I think.”

“And, because he died you can’t ask him outright.”

Thankful he didn’t beg her for more details, she breathed a sigh of relief. Feeling a bit better for having gotten the most of it off her chest, she blushed. He was very easy to talk to. “Aye. My friends, they’ve tried to assure me…that ‘tisn’t anything wrong…”

“Eliza, there’s nothing wrong with you.” His smile turned gentle.

She tried to laugh it all away. God’s truth, ‘twas just knowing she wasn’t alone in the proverbial boat that made her relax. “’Tis too late for me. I’ve put myself on the shelf.”

“Which is why Constance has a proper dowry.”

“’Twas good enough before, but now—‘tis just—she’ll have a better chance at a fine match.”

“What if you were to marry me?”

“Sir.” Stunned, she gaped at him.

“William. He sounded as angry as a bear whose hibernation had been interrupted.

Conceding, she used his given name. “William, you don’t know me.”

“I know that I am attracted to you. That I long for you. That we will suit given time.” He rattled off the list with such certainty she couldn’t help but smile.

“Was there more you had with your fiancé?” He inquired, his tender expression wafting away. “Please, don’t think I’m naive enough to believe you loved him.”

“Perhaps.” Nay, they hadn’t been a love match. “I’m jesting,” she said on a laugh when he grabbed her about the waist. Eye to eye with him, she brushed an errant lock of his honey-brown hair from his face. She snatched her fingers back. “I’ve forgotten myself.”

“I intend to make you not only forget yourself, but also the lack-brained man you were engaged to.”

She was ready for him when he slammed his mouth against hers. Leaning into his strength, she clung to his shoulders. She’d never been kissed with such fervor. His tongue eased between her lips and dueled with hers. Passion ignited in her belly. Her fingers tangled in his hair.

The over-active imagination she’d suffered from was spurred into a full gallop as she pictured his hands on her—in her. Above the blasting pound of her pulse in her ears, she imagined William taking her in every lurid position her friend blushingly whispered about to her after she’d lost her virginity.

Lost in the wonderment of his kiss, she gasped for air when he rained kisses across her cheek. He licked the delicate shell of her ear. Instinctively she rubbed against him. Her body wanted to get closer to his. Little mewls of pleasure escaped her lips as he gripped her bum in his big, strong hands. She ached for him.

“Give yourself to me, Eliza.”

“Give yourself to me—now.”

“Aye,” she muttered between her panting breaths. Hugging him hard, she yearned for what she’d never experienced with Geoffrey. She desired the satisfaction she sensed only William could bring her. “Oh, aye.”

Chapter Three

Beware an alpha male on a mission.

Eliza couldn’t gather air in her lungs. In the back of her mind, she understood she was setting herself up for disappointment, that rather than aye, she should have said nay. Her common sense told her this was wrong. She was a lady, and should never engage him in carnal kisses and allow him to feed her sexual fantasies.

He might want to marry her, or he might be using her depressed mood merely to find his own satisfaction. She didn’t care.

“There’s no backing out, Eliza. Either you willingly give yourself to me or we stop the play now.”

“Nay.” The single word was ripped from her throat. If naught else, she could finally discover the mystery behind the marriage act. She could also uncover whether ‘twas as her friends said and there was naught wrong with her or if she was defective.

Squealing when he planted her behind on the smooth wood of the counter, she gripped the rounded edge. About ready to beg him to cease the sexual onslaught he’d unleashed, she licked her lips.

“I need you to understand a few things before we begin.”

“Alright.” Her chest hurt from her heart clanging against her ribs. She gasped for air against the tightness of her corset. Be quick about it. She wiggled her bum on the bench-top. Her nether-region primed.

“You have agreed to this of your own free will.”

“Aye.”

“You are giving me the right to do aught I chose to do to your delectable body.”

“Here?”

“You’d prefer I take you upstairs with your father and sister just outside the wall of my bedroom?”

“I…” Here? A frown marred her brow. Do I dare? Granted the notion that they were exposed to the street and the danger of someone from above-stairs happening upon them whetted her appetite more. “Fine.” What do I have to lose?

“Good.” He planted his gaze on her face. “If you don’t like what I am doing to you, you need to say the word ‘valentine’. Saying ‘no’ will have no effect.”

“Valentine.” She nodded. Just get on with it. Liquid heat pooled between her legs.

“I can smell your desire. This pleases me.” He reached out and began undoing the buttons of her bodice.

Sneaking a peek out the window, Eliza struggled to relax. A blush crept up her cheeks as he slowly undid her bodice and, after done, swept the cloth aside to expose her camisole. A jolt of static socked through her when his thumbs brushed over her taut nipples. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Propping her weight on her straight arms, she let her head fall back. The shift of her skirts being lifted snapped her head up. “William?” A low, keening moan sounded from her when he dipped his head and suckled her nipple through the soft wool of her camisole. “William?” She couldn’t fight off the spurt of fear that shot from her breast to jingle in her mind.

He pulled his head away to meet her face. Thinking he might kiss her, she was surprised when he didn’t “Trust me, Eliza. I won’t harm you.”

She wanted to trust him. God knew how desperately she wanted to put all her faith in him.

“If ne’er again, then now, I ask you not to fear this.” His hand moved up her pantaloon-clad thigh. Her feminine walls grew tense. His fingers moved closer to her crotch. She wiggled her hips. The tension in her thighs competed with the heaviness growing in her womb.

She felt caught in a contradiction. ‘Twas as if all of a sudden the room had become an inferno, yet cold drafts scurried across her cheeks and neck. She was hot. Her body filled with wanton lust. The snow swirling outside and the blackened wood waiting for a spark to light it on the hearth were completely opposite to the heat William evoked from her.

As suddenly as his onslaught began, it ceased. He strode away from her on powerful legs. “Don’t move.”

A scream inched up her throat. For the love of God, don’t leave me like this. She slapped her hand down on the bench-top.

“Impatient, are we?” He had the unmitigated gall to chuckle at her. “For that, you’ll sit there longer.”

Realizing he’d merely gone to close the door leading to the flat upstairs, she shakily drank in as much air as she could manage. Her eyes grew wide when he leaned back against the oak door. “Please,” she begged him.

“Keep your legs spread wide.” He seemed to be taking in a painting by a master artist which hung in a posh gallery. His stare intently focused on her crotch then shifting to her bosom. “Arch your back for me.”

With her leg muscles twitching, she did as she was told. The ache in her pussy grew. She waited for what seemed like hours. “Please.”

“You’ll do as I say.”

“Aye.” How many times must I swear this to you?

“Aye, Master.”

Shocked by his harsh command, Eliza bit her lip. Do it. Do it. Do it. “Aye, Master.”

“That’s my lass.”

A clog of emotion formed in her throat as he strode to where she sat. Her nerves twanged when he cupped her femininity. Tiny tremors of pleasure rolled their way down her channel as he worked his palm in a slow, circular motion against her mound. He palmed her left breast, capturing her nipple between his index finger and thumb. The pleasure of his hand applying steady pressure against her crotch coupled with the slight pain he inflicted when he pinched her nipple made her gasp. “Dear God, have mercy upon me,” she whispered huskily.

“Nay. ‘Twill be I who shows you mercy,” William replied. “’Twill be I who brings you to climax, and me whom you will thank after.”

“Aye.”

He pinched her nipple harder. She cried out. The desire wracking her body shot through the roof.

“Master.”

“Aye, Master.” His mouth met hers in another hot, open-mouthed kiss. At the same time, he pulled her camisole aside to expose her breast. The sensation of his calloused hand against her tender flesh had her writhing for release.

Without warning he lifted her off the counter and set her to the side. “Place your hands on the press, thus,” he ordered.

She watched him lever his hands on the counter. Glancing at the machine, Eliza exhaled. Moving to right her clothes, a sharp slap to her bum told her to leave her bodice alone.

“The next time I take your delectable body…”

Curious as to whether he’d left his sentence hang to heighten the desire flowing between them or he was merely thinking aloud, she felt a small smile creep across her lips. “Aye, Master?” she asked. She planted her hands on the edge of the press where her body would be obscured by the counter.

“Nay, I wish you to look outside as I fuck you.” He led her to the long side and settled her hands on the top lever.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed the wooden grips of the top lever. He lowered the other side of her camisole so both her breasts hung free.

“Spread your legs, slave.”

Obeying without complaint, she gasped when he tossed her skirts about her hips. With deft moves he freed the tapes of her pantaloons. The silk drawers slid over her bum but came to rest about mid-thigh. He clapped his hand down on her butt cheek.

“You are beautiful. Let’s see if you are well behaved too.” He moved his fingers up and down her cleft. She was wet for him.

Her knees dipped slightly when he swirled his thumb over the sensitive nub of her clit. A firm, strong hand spread her arse cheeks apart. Eliza moaned when he eased a digit into her channel.

“Don’t make a sound. Do you understand me, slave?”

“Aye, Master.” The man was clearly delusional.

Another smack hit her butt. “Shh,” he muttered. “You’re incredibly tight. This will be a good ride for you.”

Eliza bit back on a moan when he added another finger to the one already planted in her pussy. She began to grind her crotch against his hand. Dear God. Please. Please. She was close to finding bliss. Her cunt ached. Her heart pounded.

“Rock back on my fingers, slave,” he commanded her. “Pull yourself forward and then push back.”

None of her friends had ever told her of the likes. Still, she managed to do as she was told. The friction sent shockwaves through her. His digits stretched her channel. Her clit hit his knuckles perfectly. “William.”

His hand cracked down on her arse. The minor offense to her butt cheek mingled with the pleasure of his fingers. Her body bucked forward when his thumb teased her anus. “Master.” She sucked in a gasp when he slapped her bum again sending a fresh spark of pain down her legs. The tremors of release ratcheted up.

“Master,” she pleaded. She didn’t know what she was begging for, but was sure he was a means to that end.

He slapped her other arse cheek. His hand brushed away the pain. “Quiet,” he whispered. “You wish my cock in you.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. “Tell me that is what you want.”

“Aye, Master.” She bit back on her cry of dismay when he removed his fingers. Nay. Don’t leave me like this.

The rustle of clothing hit her ear.

“You will stare outside as I fuck you. If you look away, I will punish you.”

She almost balked but caught herself in time. How will he know if I duck my head and hide my face from the street? There was nay way he could know. After all, Geoffrey had kept his eyes closed during their bedding.

Breathing hard, she felt the tip of his cock tease her hole. He swiped it up and down her cleft for a few strokes, and then settled it at the entrance to her channel. She almost asked him if that was all there was to the act when he surged forward. The twinge of pain caused by his invasion was soon forgotten. ‘Twas the girth of his cock that had her feeling full to the hilt. The length of him was yet to be determined.

She thought the act over when he pulled out until just the knob of his penis was nestled in her pussy then he plowed forward again and again. Accommodating all of him was a struggle. The man was huge.

The heavy printing press shifted not a bit. She thought the world had moved.

He snaked a hand beneath her skirts and played with her clit. The delectable tremors from before began to trip down her feminine walls. Her thigh muscles shivered.

Then he started to thrust.

“Not a sound, slave.”

She laid her forehead against a side brace. He was having naught of that. Fisting her long, dark locks in his hand, he pulled her head up. There wasn’t pain, but there was an understanding that he wasn’t going to let her hide.

His thrusts turned frenetic. The finger playing on her clit alternated between swirling motions and tapping against the nub. Pressure built in her womb. Twinges rocked her pussy. “Goodness.” The single word slipped from her lips.

He came to an abrupt stop. His cock imbedded deep inside her. His finger on her clit didn’t move. She lifted her hand to slap the press. Frustrated to no end, she wiggled her bum against him, trying without much success to reach her climax. He released her hair and grabbed her wrist before she could finish the outward expression of her internal frustration. His other circled her waist and held her still. “Tsk. Tsk. You were warned, slave.”

Warned? Befuddled, Eliza clamped her lips shut.

Sweat broke out on her brow when he slid his cock from her aching pussy. “You will remove your pantaloons and kneel on the pad there as I work on Lady Stanhope’s order,” he informed her coolly.

Out of her peripheral vision, Eliza spied the amethyst-colored cushion near the press. A draft of cold air swept across her nether lips. “What? Why?” A curse upon me.

He smacked her bottom again. She sucked in a sharp gasp. She bucked forward. Her body screamed for him to finish the bedding—to, as he said, fuck her.

“Because you are a new slave, I will explain—this one time.” William moved away from her and righted his clothes. He rounded the press and leaned down so they were eye to eye. “I am your Master. I control your pleasure. If you disobey me, I will punish you. Is that understood, slave?”

Eliza didn’t know whether to answer or not. Gazing at him, she nodded.

A small smile played at the corner of his kissable lips. “Good. Now, do as I say.”

* * * *

William observed her right the bodice of her gown. ‘Twasn’t until after her beautiful breasts were covered that she removed her silk pantaloons. His grin turned wolfish when she folded the silk. Lust rolled through him as anticipation for finishing what they’d started crept into his conscious thoughts. A small chuckle rumbled in his chest when she appeared at a loss as to where to store the intimate apparel. “Give it to me,” he demanded.

He tilted his head to the side when she gazed at him through the veil of her lashes. Sniffing the air, the scent of her arousal still heavy in the ether, he waited for her to obey. His rock-hard cock throbbed for release, but Eliza was going to have to understand ‘twasn’t only his penchant to dominate his sexual partners, but that when he commanded her to do something he expected it to be followed without thought or argument. Her very life could depend on it.

Aye, ‘twill take you time to learn your place, but don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. “Eliza,” he snarled.

She handed him the clothing. He sensed that she wanted to give him a proper set-down for leaving her in a state of heightened sexual need but was keeping her cool facade in place. “Kneel,” he reminded her when she stood rooted to her spot.

He didn’t move until she’d taken her position on the cushion. He breathed deeply of her pantaloons. “You are an enticing woman, Eliza. I will enjoy being your husband. Very much, I think.” Rather than leave the garment out, he strode to the workbench with its multitude of cubbies and drawers. He opened the top drawer, let her pantaloons slide into the dark confines and then shut them away.

She opened her mouth to say something but must have thought better of it. Her wide-eyed gaze followed him as if she’d bolt from her place and run for the hills if he so much as lifted his arm.

What are you afraid of now? That I don’t like you, or that I’ll take away your freedom? Nay, he didn’t want to destroy the spirit she’d hidden away in her heart, the part of her that was full of passion. He enjoyed the bit of her temper he’d seen. “Tell me about your fiancé.” He wondered if the damage done by the man’s sudden death was too much for Eliza’s personality to overcome. Blast her former fiancé straight to the Gates of Hell.

“I don’t want to talk about Geoffrey. He’s dead.”

With time and a steady hand, she’ll be fine. At least he hoped so. He went about his task of inking the form, setting the engraved plate in the press and fitting the first piece of cardstock. Seeing Eliza squirm slightly, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you wet for me, slave?” he asked, teasingly.

A fiery blush rolled up her cheeks. “Aye,” she whispered.

“Good.” He nodded. “There are things about me which will seem odd, Eliza. Things I will ask you to do, that won’t make sense at the moment. Understand this, I do not do them because I wish to hurt you but to protect you from my enemies.”

“Perhaps then ‘tis foolhardy for us to wed.” Again, she peeked at him. He discerned she was gauging his reaction for her speaking without permission. “Do you have many enemies? I mean if you do, perhaps I will be more a hindrance than an asset.”

Are you trying to convince me or yourself? “In London, aye, but I will protect you from that which would cause you harm,” he allowed. “There is naught foolhardy about you becoming my bride.” He turned the top screw. The block pressed down on the paper. He heard her sharp intake of breath. His gaze sliced to her face. Her stare was fixed on his arms. Through his instincts he sensed she lusted for him but also worried about something. “Do you fear I will beat you for speaking your mind?” For the first time in his paranormal existence he wished he was telepathic too.

“Nay…aye…I don’t know. I don’t understand much of this.”

He didn’t blame her. Have patience, he told himself. Breathing deeply, he exhaled slowly. “Be at ease, Eliza. I have never laid a hand on a woman in anger.” In mortal combat and in his werewolf form, aye, but explaining what he was wouldn’t help the situation. A little spanking to heighten her sexual pleasure wasn’t out of the question either, but he held his tongue. A niggling suspicion took root in his mind. “Did your fiancé strike you?” He had to know. His fingers clenched down on the handles of the screw.

“Nay, but he had a fiery temperament. I thought—I wasn’t sure if…some of my friends have…”

“Did your father hit your mother?” From the short period of time he’d spent around the elderly man, William doubted Daniel Dogood had it in him to swat a fly.

“Nay.” She shook her head, sending her dark, sable-colored hair to stroke her shoulders. “Papa would never have harmed mother.”

“It appears your father and I are cut from the same cloth, so to speak.”

“How can I be sure?”

“Would my sacred vow to never strike you in anger carry aught weight with you?”

“I don’t think so.”

He lifted the invitation from the press. “Would you hand me another piece of stock?”

“I’ll have to get up,” she pointed out the obvious.

“Aye, but I feel we need to discuss my penchant for dominating my partners and the concerns it causes you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” She nibbled on her lip. “I think we could suit, it’s just that, well, I don’t know how to explain it. Perhaps if we…are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” She waved her hand in the air.

The innocent move nearly made him growl. “Mind having a discussion with the woman who will become my wife, not in the least.” Wiping the smudges of ink from his hands, he took the few steps separating them and helped her rise to her diminutive height. He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “Eliza, I will never hurt you in anger.”

“Thank you. I do believe you, but what happened…” Another blush rolled up her cheeks.

“You didn’t like it?” He knew she had.

A small smile quirked the corners of her lips. “A little, but what if all that should get out of hand?”

“Then, I willingly give you permission to kill me in my sleep.”

A burst of horrified laughter echoed in the room. Her astounded expression caused him to chuckle. “You jest.”

“Do I?”

Chapter Four

Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.

Eliza stared at William’s face. Her breath hitched. What she wouldn’t do for another of his kisses. She rose on tip-toes at the same instant he dipped his head. Of their own accord, her hands came to rest on his shoulders as he wrapped her in his strong embrace.

“This is where you belong,” he murmured.

“Aye.” Her heart beat went wild when he brushed his lips across hers. There was a certain feeling of safety in his arms. Not something she could explain, but when he kissed her, she wasn’t sure she could think.

“Eliza! Eliza!”

The sound of Constance’s voice broke the spell. William set her aside, shoved a stack of pre-cut blank cards into her hands and returned to his task. The twinkle in his brilliant gaze enchanted Eliza. There is much more to you than meets the eye. Hearing her sister’s heavy footfalls on the stairs, Eliza blushed. She pressed the palm of her free hand to her heated cheeks. I despise how I blush at the least little embarrassment. “How do I look? I mean, can you tell?” Oh, I don’t know what I mean.

“You look fine,” William assured. He winked at her.

“Eliza, where are you?” The bang of the door leading to the flat above-stairs rocked through the shop. “Eliza?”

“We’re back here,” she called to her sister. Her gaze went to the drawer containing her pantaloons. There isn’t enough time to retrieve them. She gulped. Positively lewd thoughts went through her head as William worked the press. She couldn’t help but remember being at his mercy before he’d started his work. Her body tingled with wanton desire. To have your fingers in me again. Your cock. A sigh ripe with frustration broke from her throat.

Considering their discussion and how she’d reacted to his ‘punishment’, she came to an important conclusion. She wasn’t afraid of William. He might like sexual acts that weren’t the norm, or aught she’d ever heard of, but she could tell he didn’t want to hurt her. If anything, his play enhanced her desire for him. Who would have thought? Aye, the issue was he’d flung too much at her. Part of her was still wondering if marriage was his intent. Another part of her was intrigued by how easily he’d gotten her to a point so close to satisfaction she could almost taste bliss. There was a tiny voice that said, ‘you are being a nitwit.’

If their discussion while she’d knelt was an indication, William didn’t want a silent wife. She could even see why he wanted her to be quiet while… Her pulse started to thrum in her ears when she imagined him taking her over and over. Holding her down. Making her submit. Mastering her.

Liquid heat drenched her core. She snatched her hand back from her cheek.

“Eliza! What was this door doing closed? Papa will have your head should he find out you were in a closed room with an unmarried man.”

Out of habit, Eliza smoothed over her expression. She licked her dry lips. Ignoring her sister’s reprimand which could be easily explained away as keeping the cold air from slinking up the stairs, she held up a hand when William glared at Constance. “What do you need, Constance?”

“Oh, there you are.” Constance rounded the corner. She gripped the counter’s edge. She turned her head to stare out at the street then shifted her gaze back to Eliza. “Papa wants to head for home soon. He believes the snow has slowed as much as ‘twill before dark.” Constance turned her attention to William. “No need to impose on our hosts any longer than necessary.”

Taking in Constance’s angry expression, Eliza frowned. All thoughts of how unladylike she felt without having her knickers on went flying to the four winds. Through the front window, Eliza could see the snow coming down just as hard as it had before. The worst case scenario was Constance had done something to offend the Copes. It wasn’t out of the question, either. “I see.” She nodded to William. Setting the stack of cards on the workbench, she joined Constance. “Thank you so much for showing me how the press works. ‘Tis an incredible device.”

“You’re most welcome, Miss Dogood.”

Eliza led Constance back to the foot of the stairs. Ignoring the illicit feel of her naked thighs rubbing against each other, she sighed.

“I lost my purse,” Constance murmured.

“What?” More’s the question, ‘so’?

“My coin purse,” Constance admitted; her tone was barely a whisper “It’s not in the pocket of my cloak.”

“I’m sorry, Constance, but I’m not following you.”

“Get your wits about you, Eliza. I don’t have the money to pay for the valentine.”

“Oh.”

“Aye, oh,” Constance sniped sarcastically. “That’s all you can say? Oh.” The blonde looked about ready to have an apoplexy. “They’ll send me to the gaol.”

“They will not,” Eliza dismissed her sister’s worry. “Papa will surely pay for it.” But that was contingent on him having his purse with him. Bah, he never goes out without his purse.

“Nay, he won’t. He warned me he wouldn’t when I ordered it.” Tears filled Constance’s blue eyes. “He thinks valentines are trite and for the lower classes.”

Eliza almost reminded her sister their family’s status was hardly far above that of a commoner. If ‘twasn’t for her father’s profession as a solicitor, they’d be as humble as the Cope family. “I have a small amount of coin saved at home.”

“What good will that do me?”

“I’ll talk to…” She caught herself before she called William by his given name. “Promise Mr. Cope that as soon as we can reach home, I will forward the funds to him for the valentine.”

“Do you think he’d accept your offer? After all, they appear as poor as church mice.” Constance snuck a glance around her sister. The noise coming from the other room told them both William was engrossed in his work. She motioned Eliza to lean closer with a quick nod. “Do you think he’ll discuss this with his father so I can take the valentine with me?” Raising her arms, she wiggled her fingers at her temples. “I’m in a bit of quandary about what to write to my dearest Robert. ‘Twill take me most of the night, I fear, to get my words just right.”

Eliza rolled her eyes at her sister’s theatrics. She huffed out a breath. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Constance hopped from her left foot to her right. Grabbing Eliza’s hands, she hugged her tight. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Eliza pulled away. “I can’t promise you anything.”

“You’ll make it happen. I know you. You could talk Papa out of his last ha’penny.”

Actually, the only thing she’d ever convinced her Papa of was allowing her to set herself aside from the marriage market. Eliza wished she had as much faith in herself as Constance did. “Go above-stairs. Just keep quiet about your missing coin.”

“I will.”

Eliza spun on the heel of her serviceable shoe. She’d barely taken a step when she halted her forward progression. “Wait. Did Papa really say he wanted to leave soon?”

“Aye. He doesn’t want us or the servants to be snowbound.”

“How soon before we depart?”

“Perhaps a half hour.”

Eliza didn’t know how much more excitement she could take in one afternoon. “Stall.”

Constance scowled at her. Suddenly her lips formed a perfect ‘o’. “I understand. You think you’ll need time to convince Mr. Cope.” Constance nodded. She started up the stairs. “I can do that. ‘Twill plead a slight headache, that should have Papa cooling his heels afore the fire for a few extra minutes.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Eliza walked back to the anteroom where the press sat. Trepidation filled her. They might have spoken about marriage, but they weren’t formally affianced. Spit, I’m still in a quandary. She paused at the archway. “Hello.”

“What’s wrong with Constance?” William asked.

“How did you know something was amiss with Constance? Perhaps I returned under the guise of asking you to retrieve my…uh…”

William threw his head back and laughed. “She’s as easy to read as you are.”

With naught to lose, Eliza smiled. “Aye, that I am. Geoffrey noticed that about me as well.” Not to the degree that William did, though. Her smile disintegrated when he propped his hip on the edge of the press and folded his arms over his chest. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“Nay,” he said. “We were discussing Constance.”

“Aye. It seems she’s misplaced her coin purse. It may have fallen from her pocket while she walked here.” ‘Twasn’t out of the question. Eliza shrugged. “Would it be possible for her to take the valentine home? I’ll send you the funds as soon as the weather clears.”

“Come here.”

She didn’t hesitate but strode to where he stood. Perhaps ‘twas their experience earlier or some inherent feminine instinct but she smiled up at him. “Aye.”

“Aye, what?”

Her heart fluttered. “Aye, Master.”

“I will allow you to pay later.” He brushed an errant lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Though, ‘tis not your coin I desire.”

“What do you desire, Master?”

“You. Body, mind and soul.” He took her in. “Assume your position against the press.”

Eliza gulped, trying to clear the knot of lust from her throat. “As you wish, Master.” She almost told him her father wanted to leave soon. Instead, she brushed past him and did as he told her. She placed her hands on the now warm handles and bent at the hips so she leaned over the press.

“Your sister must want her card desperately.”

“She does.” Not as much as I want your cock in me.

“Don’t make a sound.”

“Nay, Master.”

His hand smacked down on the layers of cloth covering her butt. He lifted her skirts out of the way. The feel of his hand caressing her bottom made her wiggle her hips. “You appreciated my fingers in you before. Ride them again.”

His fingers teased her opening. She waited until he’d eased his index finger in just a short length. Slowly sinking back on his digit, she moaned. As she pulled forward, he slipped another finger into her. Before she knew what she was doing, she was rocking back and forth on his fingers. She gritted her teeth to keep from begging him to finish the game they’d played for a good part of the afternoon.

Oh, my. Oh, my. She pushed back harder, pulled forward quicker, until she was nearly at the breaking point.

“Look outside.”

Forcing her eyes open, she watched the snow swirl. The curl of passion weighing heavily in her belly built. She panted against her raging heartbeat. The twinges from before were twice as strong now. Please. She wanted to cry. Please.

“Remember, you can’t climax until I say so.”

She gripped the handles tighter when he removed his fingers from her drenched pussy. Wanting to tell him, ‘don’t stop’, she whimpered.

His hand slapped her butt. She sucked in a sharp gasp.

“Do you want my cock, slave?”

“Aye, Master.”

“Say it, slave.”

“I want your cock, my Master.”

Before she could blink he slammed his erection into her. Filled to the hilt, she gritted her teeth. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. He was huge.

He growled “Don’t say a word.”

She nodded. His hands spread her butt cheeks wide and his fingers dug into the delicate flesh of her hips. The warmth radiating off his chest warmed her back when he leaned down. “I can’t wait for us to be at our home and I can fuck your arse,” he whispered.

Tremors tripped up her thighs. He started to thrust. She shivered. His plunges came fast. All the way in, nearly all the way out until she was ready to shatter. It took all her energy to keep from begging him to bring her satisfaction.

“Come for me, my slave,” he rasped against the shell of her ear. He kissed her hair then straightened. With his hands on her hips, his thrusts turned rough. “Come for me—now.”

She did. Contractions ripped from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Gasping for air, she held onto the handles for dear life as he pummeled her pussy. And the contractions wouldn’t let go.

On a growl, he pulled her back so he was fully imbedded. His hot seed drenched her core.

Panting hard, Eliza rested her forehead against the screw. Her heart felt ready to beat out of her chest. Gratified that he wasn’t doing much better, his heavy breaths wafting her hair, she gasped when he eased his cock out of her.

“That was phenomenal,” he muttered. He wrapped his arms around her.

Held in his embrace, she nodded. Aye. Phenomenal. “We should straighten our appearances. My papa wants to leave soon.”

“Over my dead body.” He slid out of her. His hands caressed her bottom before he righted her skirts. Spinning her around, he stared down at her. Embracing her, he studied her face. “Eliza, I won’t allow you to risk your life in this storm.”

Worn out, she nodded. She no more relished going out in the storm than she wished to leave the comfort of his arms. Reveling in the heat radiating from his chest, she heaved a satisfied sigh. “He doesn’t want to be an imposition to your family.”

“I understand.” He kissed the top of her head. “‘Tis nothing short of suicide to go out in this.”

As if Mother Nature was trying to make his point the wind rattled the storefront windows. An icy breeze skittered over her face. She hugged him tight. “I’ll try to talk some sense into him.” She might as well talk to a brick wall. If her sire got a notion in his mind, he normally was steadfast to see it through.

“Nay, I will speak with him.” He stepped away and fixed his clothing. “I already have a question to pose to him.”

“You do?” Maybe she was fishing for confirmation William intended to ask for her hand in marriage or if he wanted to negotiate a formal courtship, she wasn’t sure. In truth, it made little difference. Unless, he doesn’t plan to ask either. Her mood deteriorated that fast. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes.

“We leave for my home in Kent on the morrow or as soon as the roads are safe to travel. ‘Twould serve us better for the details to be hashed out before then.”

“We?” Stunned by his announcement, words failed her. One day? A few days? Perhaps a week? He’ll not have the time to attain a special license. Her throat worked hard to swallow the knot of worry clogging her breath. There won’t be time to post the banns. Her brain was frantic as she tried to grasp what was happening. Questions rolled through her mind. Are you asking me to elope? Oh, the horror of that. If that was his intent her reputation would be permanently marred and all hopes for Constance would be burned to ash. Are you asking me to live in sin? She laid her hand on her chest. “I can’t…you won’t…my papa would never…” Think.

“Eliza, whatever it is you are trying to spit out, do so.”

“A chaperone,” she whispered. He must expect Papa to provide a chaperone for me. She relaxed a little. Her great-aunt could act as a proper escort for her, though the woman was deaf as a door and about half-way blind.

“Aye? My aunt, my mother’s sister, will perform the duty.” William sighed. “She lives quite close to me and would enjoy your company.” A smile quirked his lips. “Did you expect me to kidnap you, or something like that?”

Relief gushed through her. She waved her hand in the air. “Nay. I’m just out of sorts.” Very, very out of sorts. “If I could have my pantaloons?”

He chuckled. “Of course, though once you are wed and properly bedded, I doubt you will find much need for clothing.” Striding to where he’d stored her unmentionables, he retrieved them. He handed them to her.

Only once did they get caught on her boot as she hurriedly slipped them on. “Why is that?” she asked absently as she adjusted the waist and tied the tapes.

“Because I plan to keep you naked and in my bed.” He entered her personal space and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my slave?”

Blushing, Eliza nodded.

* * * *

William leaned his shoulder against the doorframe to his room. For the most part, Daniel Dogood had seen reason. He’d agreed to wait at least another hour before considering leaving for the family’s house. “I’d also like to speak to you regarding your daughter.”

“My daughter?” The wizened old man narrowed his eyes. “Did Constance offend you? Did she try to wheedle her way out of paying for that bit of nonsense she ordered?”

“Nay, Sir, I meant your other daughter.”

“Eliza?” The man physically relaxed. “What about her?”

“I’d like to marry her, Sir.”

“Why?”

William had already prepared himself for a discussion on the level of the Great Inquisition. “Because I am in need of a wife, and she is in need of a husband.” ‘Tis as simple as that.

Daniel gave him a little grin. “You don’t waste any time. Not that I blame you. Eliza isn’t a classic beauty but she has a lovely attitude.” Daniel turned his head and stared out the small window in William’s spartan room. “You know she was engaged.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Not that I necessarily approved of the match, but there was a glimmer of hope that they’d find peace given time and a steady hand.” Daniel appeared to want to say more about that. “Geoffrey Falston didn’t have the temperament to handle a lady like Eliza. For the most part, she’s kind and gentle, but she’s got a mind too. She can be opinionated, and ain’t afraid to speak her peace should she feel the need.” Daniel steered his gaze back to William’s face. “That’d be her mother coming through.”

“I’d not destroy her spirit.”

“Good. Good. ‘Twould be a pity to see her beaten down.” Daniel stroked his chin for a moment. “From what your parents say, you have your own business in Kent.”

“Aye. I followed in my father’s footsteps. My shop is quite popular, even though it is not as busy as Papa’s. I do make a fair living not only through my own sales but I also sell some of my plates to this shop.”

“Ah, so you don’t lack for coin.”

“No, sir. I’m not wealthy, but we’ll want for naught.”

“You do understand I have only a small dowry for Eliza.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“Good. I’ll not lead you to believe that wedding my eldest daughter will bring you a windfall. It won’t.”

William measured his words. The last thing he wanted to do was inadvertently bruise the elder man’s pride. “I expect naught from you sir, other than what has been set aside for Eliza should I pass afore she.”

Daniel stood and extended his hand. “Then it is agreed. I’ll leave it to Eliza to plan the wedding and all that female nonsense.”

William strode across the room and shook the proffered appendage. “There is only one issue I would discuss with you. My shop has been without me for days, and I cannot be gone for much longer. I’d ask that Eliza travel with me to Kent when I return home.”

“I’m loathe to do so, but considering she’s nearly of a spinster’s age, I see no harm in having her courted outside my home. She’ll need a proper chaperone and I expect you to conduct yourself as a gentleman.”

“I can arrange for a chaperone.” How did he answer the second part? I’ll not make a promise sure to be broken. Already, he lusted for another go with his life mate.

“Fine.”

Glad that Daniel hadn’t pushed him to vowing to act the fop, William took his first full breath since asking Daniel Dogood if he could have a moment alone. “Thank you, sir. I promise to take care of Eliza.”

“That’s a promise I intend to hold you to.” Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I guess the only thing left to do today is inform Eliza. I’ll leave the duty to you.”

William grinned. “Thank you, sir.”

* * * *

Eliza felt as though she sat on a tenterhook. She’d teeter-tottered between preparing herself for total disappointment and the elation which came from burgeoning hope.

“You’re a hundred leagues away, Eliza,” Constance said and clucked her tongue.

“Beg pardon.” Embarrassed, Eliza returned her focus to the checker board. Unable to concentrate, she moved her black-painted wood disk to the first free spot she spied. She winced at the flub of a move. She’d opened three of her pieces to be taken.

Her heart surged upward then toppled to the pit of her belly when the door to William’s room opened. She clasped her hands together so hard her knuckles turned white. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t feel up to playing any longer.”

“Pish-posh, that’s because for a change I was going to defeat you,” Constance sniped. “Oh, have your will. ‘Tis not fair, though.”

“We’ll finish later.” Eliza rose from her stool when her father and William walked down the short corridor. Chills racked her body. She nibbled on her lower lip. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo.

“Eliza, what has gotten into you? You’re acting like a debutante at her come-out ball.” Constance snorted. Again she clucked her tongue. “Sit down.”

“Leave her be, Constance,” Papa scolded. He smiled at his hosts. “If you have more wine, I’d take a mug.”

“Mother, open one of the bottles I brought,” William said.

Eliza exerted all her control to keep from blurting out the first question that sprang to her lips. Holding her tongue, she took in William’s non-committal expression. The wine did bode well. Perhaps Papa wants a bracing drink afore we trek through the snow. Goosebumps rose on her arms.

Seeing Mrs. Cope struggle to open the bottle with her arthritic hands, Eliza went to the woman’s side. “May I?” she asked, her good manners always on display.

William took the bottle from his mother. Eliza’s heart flip-flopped when he winked at her. Unable to maintain her composure, she smiled. “Aye?”

“Aye,” he whispered as he poured out a mug of wine and handed it to her sire. When he handed the bottle to Eliza, his fingers brushed hers. Delicious tingles raced up her arm to mingle in her chest. Her nipples tightened to hard buds and memories of him fucking her returned.

She poured out mugs for everybody. The heady smell of red wine tickled her nose. “Would you like some?” she asked William.

“Please,” he responded, his voice husky. His tawny gaze remained fixed on her face. “Share mine,” he commented when she poured the last of the bottle into his mug. “A toast,” he prompted all the people in the room to give him their full attention. “To my bride, may she think she is as fortunate as I know I am.”

Happy squeals and her sire’s booming laughter filled the room. William pulled her against his side and kissed the top of her head. “Take a sip,” he ordered her quietly.

She sipped from the cup he held to her lips. She stared at him as he drained the mug’s contents.

“What? What do you mean?” Constance looked as though she’d eaten an entire bunch of sour grapes. Her face was pinched and the frown creasing her brow was aught but pretty. “You can’t. She shouldn’t.” She stomped her foot. The anger sparkling in her stare warned she was about to pitch a tantrum. “You—”

“Constance,” Papa shouted. “You say another word and I will spank your bum until you can’t sit.”

“But Papa,” Constance shouted.

“Enough!” Papa lashed out. “I’ll not have you ruin this happy moment for your sister. Is that understood?”

“Aye.” Constance stormed to her chair and flopped down on the thin cushion. Wine sloshed from her mug to stain the bodice of her gown. “But, you know what she is. ‘Tis unseemly,” she mumbled under her breath.

‘Twas too late for Constance not to ruin the happy moment. Eliza smiled her thanks to those who expressed their good wishes, but she’d felt William physically stiffen.

“Oh, Miss, I’m so happy for you,” Amy said, her Cheapside accent thicker than usual. Eliza felt her grin turn brittle when Constance snorted with derision. She wondered what William was thinking.

Amy glared at William. “You take fine care of her. She’s a real lady, if not by title then by demeanor.”

“I fully intend to,” William responded.

“Thank you, Amy.” Eliza took the cup from William and set it on the scarred top of the dry-sink.

“Papa, I want to go home,” Constance whined. “I’m bored.”

“We’ll leave soon if the weather permits,” Papa informed her.

Eliza bowed her head. She couldn’t shake off the bleak emotions creeping through her. Leave it to Constance to shred aught joy she had in her life. This can’t be happening; she thought when her sister began to mutter under her breath about how she was sick of the tedium.

“I have several plates in the shop for wedding invitations. Would you care to peruse my work?” William asked. “Mayhaps, ‘twill give you some ideas how you’d like ours to look.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“I’ll go with you. We wouldn’t want our beloved Eliza’s reputation to come into question, would we, Papa?” Constance chimed in, vindictiveness edging her words.

“Nay, Constance. Amy will act as chaperone.” Papa put his mug down with a heavy thud. Eliza knew he was putting Constance in her place the only way he could considering the number of outsiders around.

“Aye, Sir,” Amy agreed with a nod.

Thank God for small favors. Some of the tension left Eliza’s shoulders, but not all. Following William across the room, she glanced at Constance. The woman was pea-green with envy. Please, God, let it snow and snow and snow.

The last place I want to be with the shrew is home.

Chapter Five

Look before you leap.

William followed Eliza into the Dogood’s house. Much to his chagrin, Daniel had adamantly argued for them to get home. Not even his own father’s wisdom, lent to the heated debate about the Dogoods leaving the shop, was enough to sway Daniel.

The only option left was for William to escort the family home. As if he’d let Eliza leave his parent’s home without a proper escort. Twice he’d caught Eliza when she’d lost her footing.

Constance had clung heavily to her father’s arm, but he was no match against the driving wind. She’d fallen so many times ‘twas almost as if Fate was teaching her a lesson. The valentine she’d risked her life to attain was surely a mess from her struggles to regain her balance once she’d slipped.

“If you’d wait in the parlor, I’ll fetch my coin purse,” Eliza said as she slid her cloak from her shoulders and handed it to Horace. She nodded her thanks to the family servant before ascending the staircase and striding along the open balcony. William watched her open the second door.

“This way, Mr. Cope.” Horace motioned toward the opposite side of the foyer.

William strode into the tiny room. He took in the furnishings. Though as clean and tidy as his family’s flat, the accoutrements didn’t appear overly expensive. The mahogany sideboard gleamed in the candlelight, but wasn’t constructed from the best stock. The settee and two wingback chairs it faced were built from cherry wood and upholstered in the same cloth. Aye, the room is tidy, but not filled with wealth.

Sniffing the air, William breathed deeply of his life mate’s scent. “’Tisn’t necessary for you to pay for your sister’s purchase, Eliza,” he said, not bothering to turn around. “Consider it a gift.”

She came around him. Counting out coins, she gathered the purchase amount in her palm. His heart kicked hard when she lifted her silky, brown gaze to his face. “I couldn’t accept. Your father worked hard to create it.” She held out her hand. “Please.”

“Very well.” He accepted the payment. His thumb caressed the side of her hand when she placed the coins in his palm.

“Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Please.” His throat went dry when she let her fingers linger against his longer than appropriate. He pocketed the coins and grabbed her wrist with his free hand. Laying a gentle kiss to the tips of her fingers, he clenched his jaw. You don’t know what you do to me.

“Horace, if we might have some tea,” Eliza called in her gentle voice to the butler.

“At once, Miss Eliza,” the butler said.

“Would you like to sit?” Eliza motioned to the wingback chair. She leaned in. “’Tis the most comfortable in the parlor.”

Smiling, William nodded. What he really wanted was to lay Eliza out on the ivory-upholstered settee, tie her down and listen to her beg for him to fuck her. He shrugged out of his coat. His cock hardened. “We should be able to leave for home the day after the morrow.”

“Really? So soon?” A blush colored her cheeks. “What I meant to say…”

“Don’t sound so afraid,” he teased her as he took his seat. “I don’t bite.” Not in my human form.

“What I meant to say was I didn’t realize the roads would be open. All the snow…it seems impossible to make it to Tower Bridge let alone out of London.”

He heard the wonderment in her voice. “You’ve never been outside London, have you?”

“Nay.” She nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. “When I was a little girl, I dreamed of living in a cottage in the country, but I gave up those fantasies a long time ago.”

“Seems your fantasies are coming true.” And I plan on opening you to many more.

“We’ll see,” she responded. A small smile graced her lips while a fresh blush rolled up her cheeks.

The heady scent of her heat hit his nose. “What are you thinking?” He propped his ankle on his opposing thigh. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

“Nothing of import,” she hedged.

He eyed the seductive sway of her hips as she walked to the mantel and put her coin purse down. “I insist.”

A devilish twinkle shimmered in her honey-brown eyes. “I was thinking about what you proposed while…you…showed me the press.” She bowed her head. “About what…you ken…once we journeyed to your home.”

Thinking back, he recalled telling her he was going to tie her down and fuck her arse. “Have I tied you in a knot?” His wolf paced. His body grew bowstring tight with sexual anticipation. Again, he wished he could read her mind.

Her tinkling laughter filled the room. “’Twould appear so.” She moved to the settee and sat. It took her a moment to adjust her skirts and then she folded her hands in her lap. From every angle she was the epitome of gently-bred young lady. She peeked at him through the veil of her lashes. “I am curious—about things.”

“Are you?” He was determined that once they arrived in Kent he was going to satisfy all her curiosities and live out a few of his private fantasies. “Is there aught you wanted to ask me—specifically?”

“I—” She squirmed.

Cut off from continuing their conversation by the tea arriving, William stared at his life mate. Horace took his place by the door, ceasing their short but highly intriguing and entertaining chat filled with double entendres. “I should leave,” William stated before Eliza had even had a chance to pour out a cup of tea. He felt her father’s presence enter the parlor.

“Nonsense,” Daniel Dogood said. “I’ll not hear of it. The weather is foul and ‘twill only get worse after dark. You’ll stay the night. We have an extra room in the servant’s quarters. ‘Twon’t be the lap of luxury, but you’ll be warm and dry.”

William steered his gaze to his future father-by-marriage. “I appreciate your kindness.” He held up his hand when Eliza opened her mouth. He’d already informed his father that he was going to stick close to Eliza until they made it to Kent. His sire had agreed with him that Eliza was in danger of vampire attack now that she carried his scent.

Daniel sat on the opposite end of the settee. William sighed softly. “I know my parents will appreciate your gracious offer. I may be a man full grown, but my mother frets mightily about me traveling down a lane after dark let alone a fair distance through a snow storm.” He shook his head. “‘Tis an aspect of women I will never understand. That they have to agonize over nothing until they are fairly ill.” But in his case, his mother had every right to fear him traveling at night when the vampires were overtly active.

“Aye,” Daniel agreed. He chuckled. “They are an oddity. Women, you know. Believe me, they worry about the littlest details and have the mind-boggling ability to build a mountain from an unwanted speck of dust if the mood strikes them.”

Eliza poured tea for all of them. He shook his head when she held up the delicate Limoges pitcher holding cream. Taking the cup from her, he took a sip and focused his attention on Daniel’s face. “Again, thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dogood.”

“You are quite welcome, William.”

* * * *

Eliza was a ball of raw nerves. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Simply knowing William was sleeping a short distance away from her room had her imagination running rampant. The notion of him tying her down—of doing unspeakable illicit acts to her body—made her wet for him.

Undoing the belt of her robe, she let the strip of cloth slide across her palms before she shrugged out of the garment. She laid her robe across the bottom of her bed.

“Miss, would you care for a cup of warm milk afore bed?” Amy inquired. ‘Twas a customary question as the maid filled the bed warmer with hot coals from the fireplace.

“No, thank you, Amy.” Eliza slid into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. A cold shiver ran up her spine. How many times have I been nigh frozen today? Too many to count. Eliza felt Amy slide the bed warmer beneath the mattress. She envisioned William’s strong frame lying beside her, and his hands caressing away her chills.

“If I might be so bold, Miss. I think ‘tis a fine match. You and Mr. Cope marrying, that is, Miss.” Amy said as she snapped the bedding down.

“Aye, ‘tis a fine match.”

“I shall miss serving you, Miss Eliza.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Eliza smiled patiently. “I know Constance can be a handful, but hopefully she’ll wed her dearest Robert soon.”

“Miss?”

“One can hope, Amy.” Rolling onto her side, Eliza closed her eyelids. Hope. ‘Tis a wonderful thing.

“Aye, Miss. Good night, Miss.”

“Pleasant dreams, Amy.” She heard the door close. Flopping onto her back, Eliza fantasized about riding William’s fingers. Of their own accord, her hands caressed her stomach. She spread her legs, remembering when William had told her to do the same, his luminous gaze centered on her crotch. A throb etched down the soft walls of her pussy.

Her fingers brushed through the thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs until she found her clit. Trying to mimic exactly how he’d touched her, she sucked in a sharp gasp as her index finger swirled over the sensitive nub. Her other hand gripped her breast, tweaking her nipple between her thumb and forefinger similarly to how he’d teased the hard bud.

“I hope you are thinking of me,” William’s deep voice broke through the passionate haze she’d wrapped around herself.

Her hands immediately stilled. Her gaze flew to the door. “You shouldn’t be in my room.”

“Nay, I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t resist seeing you one last time tonight.”

“That’s a very sweet sentiment.” She bit her lower lips as she removed her hands. ‘Twasn’t easy to appear prim and proper knowing she’d been touching herself. The smell of her musk drifted over her. Her gaze fell to the bulge tightening the front of his pants. Clearing her throat, she slid her legs closed. “Was there anything else you wanted?”

“Nay, but I’d watch you touch yourself more.” He nodded toward her body. Turning, he slid the bolt home. “I’d appreciate seeing you finish what you started.” His powerful legs brought him toward the bed. She gulped against the dryness choking her breath when he picked up her robe, removed the belt and leaned against the bedpost. Her heart skipped a beat when he tested the strength of the belt by jerking the strip with his fisted hands. “Touch yourself, slave.”

“Do you think this wise? My papa is not far. Neither is Constance,” Eliza responded in a shallow whisper.

“Do you wish me to punish you?” Gripping the corner of the bed covers he pulled them off her body. “Do you?”

She shook her head. Passion rolled through her.

“Take off your nightrail.”

Rushing to do as she was told, she pulled her gown off and placed it on the pillow beside her. She licked her lips as she repositioned herself on the mattress to give him an excellent view of her nether region. Remembering how he’d ordered her to sit upon the counter in his father’s shop, she levered her torso up on a straight arm. She arched her back. ‘Twas positively lewd to consider she engage him in such an unethical antic and unabashedly sexy to know her father was only a few doors down the hall at the same time.

“Touch yourself, slave.”

There was something seductive about him being fully dressed while she was as naked as the day she was born. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She spread her thighs, exposing her pussy to him. Gingerly, she swept her fingers down her tummy again and found her slick folds. She ran her fingers across her slit.

“Slide them into your hole, slave.”

Her thigh muscles twitched and her breath came in short gasps as she complied. One finger then two dipped into her drenched channel. She tried to set a steady pace, tried to rub her clit the same way he had, but ‘twas difficult. She was a novice. Trembling with need, she was desperate to find her own release. No matter what she did, she couldn’t set the right rhythm or play with her clit the right way. Her passion needed a master to strum her with the expertise of a violinist laying a bow to a Stradivarius to bring her to a climax.

She didn’t care whether he delivered her satisfaction through slaps against her bum or his cock driving into her. “Help me.” Her breath hitched, and her heart banged hard in her chest. “Help me, Master.” A small cry escaped her lips. “I need you.”

“Lie back with your head over the edge of the mattress.” He came around the bed and slid her into position when she didn’t move fast enough. “Aye, that’s nice.” Brushing his knuckles down her cheek, they continued their path until they came to her nipples. Laying a swat to her tit, she moaned. “Shh, slave. Remember, your sire is down the hall.”

Through narrowed eyes she saw him release his erection. She’d never seen the like. ‘Twas enormous.

“Put your hands over your head and clasp your fingers.” He pinched her nipple hard. “Don’t move and don’t make a sound. Do you understand, slave?”

Nodding, she winced when he laid a light slap to her breast. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt, but it added to the tantalizing thrum coursing through her veins. She lifted her hips. Her pussy wanted to be filled with his manhood.

He leaned down. “Open your mouth. You will lick my cock. You will suck on it. You will enjoy this, slave.”

Her eyes widened. Are you jesting? Still, she parted her lips. I’ve never heard of this. He maneuvered his cock toward her mouth. She licked the tip. Before she could think to protest, he slid his cock between her lips. My God.

“Take it down your throat,” he rasped.

With his hand in her hair, he eased his cock over her tongue and down her throat. Her hips swayed to and fro. He set the pace as he slid his cock in and out of her mouth. Wonderful twinges strolled down her feminine walls. His fingers left her breast and trailed over her tummy. Aye. I want it. Please.

“Spread your legs wider. I want to fuck you hard with my fingers.”

Her eyelids slid shut when he thrust harder into her mouth. She licked the underside of his cock, and he groaned. His fingers reached the goal, and he slid two into her pussy. His thumb flicked over her clit.

Clasping her hands so tight she’d nearly lost feeling from her wrists down, she met the pace he set. Tremors tripped down her pussy. So close.

“Are you going to climax for me, slave?”

She almost nodded aye. Oh my. Please.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

To answer or not? Gasping for air, her pussy clenched down on his fingers.

“Tell me, slave.”

“Please, Master,” she muttered. “Please.”

He spun her around so her legs dangled over the edge of the bed. “Look at me,” he commanded. “Keep your hands above your head.

Staring at the strong planes of his face, Eliza blew out a breath. Her thigh muscles jumped as he stripped off his trews and kicked them aside. God, I want to touch you. I want to get closer to you.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmured as he positioned his cock between her legs. Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss to her lips. “You are mine.” Without another word he plunged into her.

He set a wild pace. The delightful friction caused by his shaft sinking deep into her channel then pulling back until only the tip sat within her grew. The base of his cock hit her clit with precision. He laid his hand across her lips to muffle her screams of ecstasy. Oh, aye. Oh, aye! Oh, Aye!

“Come for me,” he rasped.

Contractions ripped down her. She clamped her thighs against his hips. Her hands released their hold on each other so she could hug him. Wrapping her arms around his shirt-clad shoulders she hung on with all her might when his thrusts grew harder, faster.

Her second climax shot through her before the first had let off and every inch of her tingled from the power of her release. “Ah. Ah. Ah.”

He growled. His seed soaked her. Propping his weight on his elbow, he kissed her cheek. Their gazes met and locked. “Did I hurt you?”

Holding him close, she shook her head. “Nay.” She lingered in his arms for a few more minutes, enjoying the glow surrounding her. He slid from her and helped her up. She snaked her arms around his waist. Laying her head against his chest, she heaved a sigh when he brushed his callous hand over her bottom and up her side. “You should go back to your room. Papa might awake and check to make sure you are there.”

“He hasn’t. I can hear him snoring.”

“You have the most amazing hearing, William.” She snuggled closer. Caressing his heavily muscled back, she quelled a yawn.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“My hearing and other things.”

Chapter Six

Honesty is the best policy when you are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

William knew he’d have to broach the subject of his paranormal status early in their relationship. ‘Truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of if Eliza discovered he’d been infected with Wolf’s Bane but a question of on which full moon she would catch him in his werewolf form.

‘Twas no different than the way his parents had uncovered the truth about him. He’d visited them, swearing he’d never come to London again after seeing them one last time, and had been forced to beat a vampire away from the shop’s stoop.

His mother had been horrified. His father appalled. He had no recourse against their terror nor did he try to appease them. He was what he was. Simple as that.

They’d come to grips with what he was, though it had taken considerable time. The situation eventually resolved itself on the grounds that he hadn’t asked to be infected and he vowed to never consume human flesh. The mere notion disgusted him.

But that had been well over two decades ago and before he’d met Eliza. He’d never experienced the pull of meeting a life mate, though he’d pondered how the unknown woman might receive him.

The only aspect he hadn’t considered was how strong the mating would come or how his instinct to protect Eliza—and to possess her—would affect him. His discipline was a shambles. By God, I nearly bit you.

And the desire to mark her as his territory wouldn’t let off. He wanted the whole world, paranormal and normal alike, to know she was his until death separated them.

The prickling pain of his werewolf form overtaking his body caught him by surprise. “Damn me.” He settled her delectable bum on the mattress. Sniffing the air, he got a whiff of a vampire’s grotesque bouquet. ‘Twas a vampire he knew not only by sight but by scent. The one who’d tried to corner him when he’d come to London but a few short days ago. “Hide in the cupboard and don’t come out until I say ‘tis safe.”

“What?”

“Eliza, go!” He jerked his shirt off. Ignoring her startled gasp which he assumed was caused by the hideous scar marring his shoulder blade; he gave her a little shove toward the wardrobe. “Close the door and if my enemy begs entry, deny him.”

“You’ve lost your senses,” she said. “Hide in the cupboard? I dare say I couldn’t fit in it if I was a child.” She laid her hand on his chest. “There’s no room.”

“Eliza, find somewhere, a privy or servant’s room makes no difference, with a door to hide behind.”

“What has you fearful?”

“You don’t want to know.” His body curved inward as his transformation came over him. “Go, before you are caught in the melee.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Go!” he shouted. His arm struck out as he pushed her further away. The sound of the ropes suspending her mattress groaning as she landed on the surface hit his ears. “Get away from me,” he snarled through his gritted teeth.

“William?”

“Hide. Do it now.”

Steering his head to the side, he watched her grab her robe and sprint from the room. “Aaaahhh!” His morph was in full tilt. His bones lengthened, his face contorted. The excruciating pain of shifting from a man to a wolf raced through him.

“Papa.” He heard her rattle the latch to her sire’s bedroom door. “Papa, come quickly.”

“Nay!” he roared. ‘Twas too late. Her harsh banging on her father’s bedroom door echoed through the house. He turned his gaze to the bay window in her room. Outside the mullioned panes a vampire glared back at him. A silver dagger was clutched in its hand. “What do you here?” he asked with a snarl.

“I’d ask you the same thing,” the vampire retorted. He waved the blade at the window. “Let me in so we can discuss it.”

“Never!” William shouted.

“Be gone from here, vampire,” Daniel’s voice brooked no disobedience. “You know you are not welcome on my property.”

The vampire shrieked and flew away.

“What?” William asked as he changed back to his mortal form. He stumbled. The energy it took him to shift sapped much of his strength. His gaze sought out Daniel and then Eliza. What the bloody blue blazes?

“Papa, help him,” Eliza shouted. She rushed to his side. “You shouldn’t have done that, William.” Easing his arm across her slim shoulders, she waited for her father to take his other side. Together they assisted him onto the mattress.

He noted how her ears had grown to points and she had small fangs peeking from between her lips. She wasn’t a blood sucker. Nay, she was something else altogether.

The truth floored William.

“You’re half-caste.” He stared at her with a new perspective. Aye, he’d heard of her type; he’d just never met one. From the rumors about them he’d been told in passing, most had limited powers. The half-castes were paranormals of mixed blood. Most were considered, even amongst the common werewolves, to be more a nuisance than a threat.

Eliza smiled and nodded. “Half fae.” She checked him over. A blush colored her cheeks when her gaze roamed over his naked frame before she snapped her stare to his face. “Are you hurt?”

“Nay.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. Staring at Daniel, William nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’ll have your hands full soon, William. My daughter is coming into her powers.” Daniel looked him over. “Eliza, run to the kitchen and make William a mug of mulled wine.”

“Papa?” Eliza didn’t sound at all certain about leaving them alone.

“Eliza, you are still my daughter.” Daniel slashed his hand through the air. “Do as you are told.”

“Aye, Papa.”

Daniel paced in front of William. He didn’t say aught until Eliza had left the room. “I should have told you earlier what she was, but I’d have preferred the revelation come from my daughter. ‘Tis her right.”

Sensing sincerity in Daniel’s words, William sighed. His limited knowledge on the fae failed him. What he’d learned was the fae were an ancient race who prayed to the Goddess of the Tuatha de Danan. They were powerful wielders of magicke and many of the common races feared crossing their paths. “You knew we’d suit.”

“From the moment I saw you with her,” Daniel admitted. “I also recognized you carried the infection. You are once bitten and twice cursed.” He stopped walking and stared at William. “‘Twas not the match I wished for my eldest, but the binding power is strong between the two of you.” Daniel’s eyes turned hard and his stance became rigid. “I’ll not reject the Goddess’s wisdom or her will.”

Relief flooded through William. “What powers does Eliza possess?”

“That is yet to be determined. She’s young and at the beginning of her maturity. I always knew she had extended life span and rapid healing, but as to the rest…we’ll have to wait and see.” Daniel sighed. “There is nay doubt she’s a lusty wench, but that is the norm amongst fae maids.”

Hmm. That tidbit of information boded well for them because his desire for her knew no bounds.

“All I ask is that you protect her with your life and love her for as long as you are together.”

“I will.” William had the sinking suspicion there was more to the fae than Daniel was telling. What are you hiding? He frowned at the man standing in front of the windows.

“Eliza will explain the fae ways to you.”

The short hairs on the back of William’s neck rose. “Did you read my thoughts?”

“Of course.” A smile crossed Daniel’s lips but dissipated just as quickly. “Know this, William Cope. To infect Eliza with the Wolf’s Bane will kill her.”

The sound of Eliza climbing the stairs brought the conversation to a halt. William propped his elbows on his thighs and contemplated his future with his life mate. The intriguing twist of her being a half-caste in actuality made little difference. It began and ended with her being his life mate.

Still, she had powers. The fact kept creeping into his thoughts. ‘Tis a lot to wrap my brain around, William admitted silently, forgetting whose company he kept. Visions of Eliza being cornered by a coven of vampires forced a growl past his lips. The very notion he couldn’t save her should she be cornered by a blood sucker or perhaps a rogue werewolf infuriated him. Nay!

“I will be watching you, William Cope.” Daniel’s voice sounded in his head. “Fail to protect her even from yourself and I will destroy you.”

Chapter Seven

Dreams are what you make of them.

Lying in his arms was a taste of heaven. Held firmly against his strong frame, Eliza settled her hand over his heart. The steady thrum of the organ mixed with the slow, even rise and fall of his chest to bring a semblance of peace to her existence.

So, this is what being in love is all about.

There was no doubt she loved him. That was the way of her kind. ‘Twas unusual for a fae maid to slowly fall in love with her intended though it had happened in the past. Nay, ‘twas more oft than not that you met your mate, they bedded you and like a crack of cannon fire, you were in love.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in William’s delectable scent. She dreamed of the only place other than London she had ever visited. The Borderlands. From outside the impervious wall of the Veil, closing Avalon off to any and all paranormals, she had basked in the glorious warmth of the bright sun shining down on her.

If only…

* * * *

A giggle broke from her throat as William rolled her over. She gazed at his handsome face as she reveled in the happiness he’d brought to her life. “What would you have of me, my Master?” she asked. His erection poked her in the belly. Tingles tickled her core. “Tell me, my Master.”

He ceased her diatribe by placing his finger over her lips. “Not this time, my love.” Brushing his knuckles down her cheek, he dipped his head until his lips were a scant breath from hers. “This time, there is no Master and slave. There is only us. Together.” He gently kissed her. “Perfect.”

A smile lifted the corners of her lips. “If that is your wish.” She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

“What do you wish?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“I have everything I will ever need right here.” I have you. Stretched out on the fertile grass beside the Sea of Serenity in the Borderlands, she listened to the waves lap the shoreline. ‘Twas as if time had stopped for them. There was only this and what they found in a single moment was all they would ever require to survive for eternity.

His lips moved slowly over hers in an undemanding kiss. Her pulse rushed in her ears when he weighed her breast. His thumb flicked teasingly over the tight bud of her nipple, drawing out the bawdy fae side of her. She traced her hands down the roped muscles of his back and across his hip.

Her mortal side had other ideas. It wanted him to love her. To show her the mysteries that rose from the sweeter side of the act.

He licked a hot path down the long length of her neck to kiss the thriving pulse at the base. Gathering her to him, he held her in his strong arms as he slid his lips across her collar bone and downward toward her breast.

Delicious tingles raced the length of her. A cool breeze brushed over her skin. “Ah,” she whispered on a gasp. His tongue lathed her nipple, sucking on the rosy peak, drawing it into his mouth. He gripped her bum hard, holding her to his body. His fingers teased her dark hole.

“Aye. Aye. Aye,” she cried. She quaked with need. Her netherlips grew wet with desire. Squirming, trying to inch his fingers into her dripping hole, she grabbed a handful of his hair. “Please.”

He plunged a finger into her anus in the same instant he thrust two into her pussy. “By the Goddess of the Tuatha de Danan,” she rasped. He stroked his fingers into her.

“So close.” She kissed his chest. She tongued his flat nipple and dropped little pecks to the scar marring his shoulder. “Aye.”

A squeal of displeasure sounded when he righted her in his arms.

Gentle, sweet kisses rained down on her cheeks as he pulled her atop of him. Straddling him, she lowered herself onto his shaft. A mewl of pleasure followed his first thrust.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” The words were torn from her soul.

“And I you.” He gripped her hips and began to lead her up and down his length. Friction is a wonderful thing.

“Look at me.”

Forcing her eyelids open, their gazes met and locked. The arrogant smile he wore shook a giggle from her. “What?” She tilted her head to the side. Her fingers clutched his shoulders. He went stock-still beneath her.

“You must have wanted very badly to come here. Very badly indeed.” His grin disintegrated as his hand cracked down on her arse.

“What?!” she screamed. In the back of her mind she realized they were actually in the Borderlands, but just then he’d started to pump upward into her. The sensations of his thick erection filling her to the hilt were incredible. The love she felt for him undeniable.

“To the Borderlands.”

“Ah,” she moaned. Her clit hit the base of his cock just right. The rampant thrusts brought her closer to her climax. “Oh my.”

“Now, Eliza. Come for me now.”

She did. Every muscle she possessed tightened as her climax exploded. “By the Goddess.”

“Aye!” he shouted as his hot seed drenched her core. “Eliza!”

Collapsing on top of him, she gasped for air. Her hands skimmed over his sweat-slick skin. “I could stay here forever.”

Eased off him, he settled her against his side. They lay there, enjoying the golden glow wrought from the fae mating.

His head snapped to the side. He sniffed the air. Amber eyes surveyed their surroundings as he rose to his impressive height.

Without warning she was lifted to her feet. He grabbed her wrist and hauled her along the shoreline.

“Can you teleport us back to your room?”

“Nay. The magicke doesn’t work like that this early in my maturity.” She peeked over her shoulder. A dark cloud rose from the horizon. “’Tis more like the magicke fulfills your heart’s desire.” I really want to go home. I really want to go home. Nothing happened. It didn’t surprise her. She was too young to understand how to manipulate the minor gift the Goddess gave to all fae maids. “What creatures are those?” Her footsteps quickened to keep up with his ground-gobbling gait.

“’Tis a pack of weres. Most likely my scent has drawn them to our location.”

“Oh.” ‘Twas the only thing she could think of to say. Weres? Oh no. She could picture both of them ripped limb from limb.

“Any idea where we are?” he asked as he continued to follow the edge of the sea.

“My father brought Constance and I here when we were young. After…our mother…died.” Forcing her sadness away, she pointed to a shining light illuminating the southeastern shore of the Sea of Serenity. “That is Avalon, home of the Faekind. We are just outside the Strigoi’s realm of Wraith-upon-Avon in the land of Hobgoblins.”

“Point us toward the closest safe harbor.”

Safe harbor? Is there such a place in the Borderlands? The only place she could think of was Avalon. Blood rushed in her ears. Aye, if they were quick, they might be able to make it to the mystic land, but what good did that do? “Avalon, but the Veil is closed. We can’t enter.” She wanted to shout at him to slow down. That she couldn’t keep up. Gaping, she gazed at him as his transformation began. “William.”

“Can you swim?”

“Swim?” Why are you asking me? “Of course I can.” She’d barely had a chance to peek at the freezing cold water before he pitched her off the bank. She came up sputtering. Her teeth chattering, she glared at him when he started laughing at her. “What is so funny?”

“You are.” He guffawed until tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks. “Werewolves? You believed me?”

Furious, she steered her head to the cloud. Through narrowed eyes she watched the enormous black shadow veer to the north. “Then what is it?”

“A flock of pigeons.” His laughter boomed across the sea.

“Argh! Of all the dunderheaded, insane tricks to pull.” She tried to storm out of the icy water but kept slipping on the muddy river bed. Gritting her teeth to keep from giving him a piece of her mind, she finally decided it wasn’t worth falling and potentially cracking her head open. She dove into the water and swam to the bank. “‘Twill be a long time afore I forgive you, William Cope—if ever. Do you hear me?” Fisting her hand around the cat tails growing near the water’s edge, she tried to pull herself out. “Do you?”

“Give me your hand.”

“I will not.” She struggled to make her way an inch up the slippery slope. She’d barely made it to where she was eye level with his toes when she lost her footing. “Damn it.”

“Give me your hand.”

Splashing about, she slapped the water then swiped her wet hair from her face. She glared at the proffered appendage he held out to her. “Oh! Whatever.”

A wicked idea sparked inside her. Placing her fingers in his palm, she gave him a big tug. Frustrated when he remained planted on the bank, she gave him a good glare to tell him she wasn’t pleased with his jest. “Why did you do that to me?” she asked once he’d gotten her out of the water.

“I told you what you needed.” His grin turned wolfish. “A man to tempt your temper and your passion often.”

“Aye, you did. You failed to explain you would make an arse of yourself in the process though.” She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Come here.” He opened his arms to her.

Her gaze dipped to his hard cock. Men. Without thinking twice about his invitation or how mad she’d been at him for tossing her in the ocean, she walked to him. Curling against him when he hugged her tight, she sighed. All her anger vanished. “Do you have any idea how to get us back to Earth? I don’t relish the thought of traipsing all night to a Common Gate then have to walk through London a sopping mess.” She wasn’t even sure where the closest Common Gate was located.

He chuckled. “When you get cold enough or hungry enough, you’ll wish us home.”

“I pray you’re right.” Her thoughts turned back to the sweet love they’d made on the bank. “Do you mean what you said?” She tilted her gaze to his face. “About loving me?”

* * * *

“What the…?” Sitting bolt upright in bed, Eliza gazed at the familiar furnishings of her bedroom. Looking beside her, she was disappointed to see that William wasn’t lying there. Her father had ordered her from her bedroom. That much she recalled. ‘Twas a dream. All of it. More asleep than awake, she exhaled sharply.

Frustrated with herself, she reclined. Kicking her nightrail down so it covered her shins, she adjusted her pillow. She hugged the goose-down stuffed rectangle and ran her fingers along the lace edging.

Closing her eyes, she tossed and turned, trying without much success to regain slumber. Aspects of the dream kept playing through her mind. Over and over and over again.

An instinct stronger than the first tremors of a fae maid’s lusty nature rolled through her. The silent call told her clearly, “pay attention.”

To what?

She propped her back against the pillows and stared at the dying embers in the hearth. Going over the dream, she couldn’t make hide nor hair of the underlying meaning.

What? she mused. What am I missing?

Was the dream wishful thinking? A vision of how she’d profess her love for William and earn his vow in exchange? Was it a prediction of something completely different? Folding her hands in her blanket-covered lap, she narrowed her eyes on the remnants of the fire.

The only certainty was that the Goddess of the Tuatha de Danan was sending her a message.

Chapter Eight

The long road home.

Friday, February 13, 1814

William watched Eliza carefully. For three days, his betrothed had been distant.

He hadn’t badgered Eliza for an answer as to why she’d grown chilly, but his patience was nearing its limit.

He wasn’t a man to sit on his arse and play paltry parlor games involving upset ladies, coy expressions and coquettishness. Nay, he faced his life head on and damn the consequences.

Seated across from her in the carriage he’d rented, he stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles. For hours he’d struggled with her silence, her despondence. ‘Twas time to get to the bottom of her melancholy. “Would you care to tell me what has your mind tied in a knot, Eliza?”

“Nothing, William,” she answered quietly. She turned her head to stare out the window at the snowy countryside. Her fingers plucked at her reticule.

“Silence doesn’t become you,” he told her, his voice taking on a hard edge. “And it does not bode well for our future.” He’d already inspected the most common causes for her solemnity. Constance was his biggest concern, but she’d been on her best behavior of late. The period of her life she was entering was a bit terrifying; not for him, but he could see how it might torment a woman such as Eliza. The fae maturity also could deal her a rough ride in the next few months.

It didn’t help that they were also unable to sneak away for a quick tussle. Nay, Daniel was adamant they always be chaperoned, going so far as to order Amy to sleep in Eliza’s room. His mood could only be described as foul as the days wore on. “Tell me.”

She steered her gaze to his face. Nibbling on her lower lip, she bowed her head before returning her full attention to him. “Have you ever felt as if you are about to undertake a journey that will end in ruin?” A single tear traced down her cheek. “I had a dream.”

“And?” His throat grew tight. He felt her internal pain. “Go on.”

“Have you ever been to the Borderlands?” Her brow crinkled into a frown as if she was attempting to solve an insolvable puzzle.

“Aye, shortly after I was infected.” How long has it been since I’ve thought of those days? Too long. “An elf I met told me that if I went to the Borderlands I might secure an antidote for the Wolf’s Bane. By the time I had made my way to the Elf Kingdom ‘twas too late to eradicate the infection.”

He listened to her as she described her dream. Some of what she related he could see himself doing—especially the tossing of her in the water. ‘Twas because Eliza sheltered herself behind a mask of cool calmness. She needed to cut loose, live for this day rather than hide in the shadows and allow the world to pass her by. “What do you think it means?” he asked when she finished.

“I haven’t any idea.” She shook her head. “I tried to talk to Papa about it, but he told me ‘twas not in my best interest to second-guess the Goddess’s will or interpret too much into the guidance she delivers me.”

“I would agree with him.” Weaving his fingers together, he tapped the knuckles of his forefingers to his lips. “You can’t read aught into what may or may not happen.”

“Then why did the Goddess send me the vision if not to learn from it?”

“Perhaps you are looking so hard at the details you fail to see the forest for the trees.”

“How so?”

Her youth glowed on her dewy skin. “Eliza, sometimes this,” he pointed to her and then to himself, “is all you have. The passion we share. The joy we find being together is all we need.” At least that was how he interpreted the dream.

“So, you don’t think there is any underlying meaning? A bit of doom and gloom coming from a higher power?” Her smile bloomed on her lips.

“If there is then there is little we can do about it save wait and pray we are strong enough to overcome.” He grinned at her when the glimmer entered her eyes. By God, how I’ve missed you. “Feel better?”

“Aye. Thank you, William.” She set her reticule aside. For the first time in days, she lost the stiffness to her shoulders. “I will have faith in us.”

“As will I.” ‘Tis all I can ask for from you.

He suspected she wanted to clap with glee when she moved to sit beside him. “Did you enjoy your journey through the Borderlands? I dare say I love it there.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. Holding his hand, she snuggled up to him.

Draping his arm across her shoulders, he held her close. Obviously you didn’t travel through some of the realms I did. “Do you?” Her good mood infectious, he rested his head on the squabs.

“Perhaps, if your schedule allows for it, we can honeymoon near the Sea of Serenity.” She traced her fingers across his wrist and down the front of his coat.

He stopped her from going further by grabbing her wrist. She snuck the arm tucked against his side out so she could caress his thigh. Her gentle touch headed for his burgeoning erection. Oho, so you have some feminine wiles. “We’ll see.” He couldn’t make any promises.

The carriage came to a stop. Peeking out the window, he smiled. Home. His base desires rose in direct proportion to the realization in quick-time he’d have Eliza alone. His wolf growled with impatience and anticipation.

He flicked the door open and hopped down. “Eliza.” Holding his hand out to her, he assisted her from the carriage after she’d reclaimed her reticule. “After you,” he motioned toward the shop with a nod. Collecting her satchel, he paid the driver, and then walked her to the door.

His cock grew hard as he unlocked the door and opened it for her. Like his parents’ shop in London, the ground floor held his business. He scowled at the light coating of dust shrouding the wood counter and the few cobwebs he noticed hanging from the ceiling like the tattered threads of a ribbon. It is what it is.

“This way,” he told her and led her toward the stairs at the rear of the workspace. “The kitchen is back there,” he pointed toward the rear of the building. “We share it with my aunt who resides on the second level.”

“Oh,” Eliza muttered. She took in the place with a slashing gaze. “So, we are on the third floor then.”

“Aye.” A bit worried she’d look down on him for their living arrangements, he escorted her up the stairs to their rooms. “I will not apologize for my humble existence, Eliza.”

“I say, you have no reason to.” A blush tinted her face. “Forgive me if I seem a bit put-out. That is not my intention. ‘Tis that I wondered how we will…” She rolled her hand in the air. “…with your aunt about.” She held her palms to her flaming cheeks. “I mean—you know?”

His passion, which had dampened somewhat, came roaring back to life. He set her satchel on the bench set along the back wall of their main room. Before she could complain about the cold he had a roaring fire blazing on the hearth. “My aunt rarely comes to this floor. So, in our rooms, we may play all we want.” He kicked the door closed and walked to where she stood. “If you are speaking of clandestine dalliances in the shop, she is known to go to bed early.” A low, ominous growl rumbled in his chest. The thought of Eliza being available for his every sexual whim took all notions of gentlemanly behavior from him.

“That’s good.” A horrified giggle escaped her lips. “What I meant to say—”

“There’s no need to explain.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. Slowly caressing the heavy wool of her cloak to where the frog held the collar closed, he undid the closure. The garment slid from her shoulders to puddle on the floor. Gratified when she shivered, he palmed her bodice-covered breast. Beneath his hand he felt her nipple become taut. “Kneel.”

He waited for her to comply. Nearly in a frenzy to sink into her hot, welcoming body, he almost tore his coat from his body. Harried, he undid the laces of his trews and thrust them down. With his fingers gripping her chin, he held her still as he positioned his cock on her lips with his free hand. “Take it in your mouth.”

Her tongue peeked out to taste him. Small laps of the head were soon followed by her working her lips around the head. Resisting the urge to fuck her mouth, he closed his eyes to the delightful sensation of her oral ministrations.

His seed crept up his cock. Not yet. He pulled her to her feet. “Undress,” he ordered.

“I can’t reach the laces,” she admitted. A tiny gasp of pleasure sounded from her when he swatted her bum. “I can’t reach the laces, my Master.”

Without preamble, he spun her around and had the laces loosened before she could say “aye.” He jerked her gown up and over her head. Next he undid her corset. “Finish. I wish to watch you.”

Without even righting his clothes, he grabbed his coat and her cloak and hung them on the pegs pounded into the wall. He spun around to eye Eliza as she shimmied out of her pantaloons. “All of it off,” he commanded when she kicked her pantaloons to the side, leaving her clothed only in her camisole, garters, stockings and shoes. He stroked his cock from base to tip.

The ether grew heavy. Garments littered the floor. He stripped his shirt from his frame and tossed it onto the pile. Toeing off his boots, he nudged them away with his foot. By God, you are delectable, he thought when she stood in the middle of the room naked.

Shoving his pants down, he growled when he stepped out of them. Desire jolted through him. “Lie down and spread your legs.” The memory of her tight walls hugging his cock as he plunged into her had him sucking in air on a sharp gasp. “I’m going to fuck your arse.”

She shivered.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, slave.”

“Aye, my Master.” She wiggled her hips against the worn-smooth floorboards.

Kneeling between her thighs, he slid his fingers across her slick folds. His erection throbbed for release. Drinking in the heady scent of her musk, he took in her beauty. “It pleases me that you are wet.” Rubbing her juices on her anus, he inserted his middle finger into her dark hole. His index finger entered her pussy. “Clasp your hands over your head and arch your back.” The new slant to her spine drove his fingers deeper. She moaned.

There wasn’t going to be any foreplay this go ‘round. Nay time to tie her up and show her the true eroticism shared by a Master and his slave. Nay. He could barely contain his lust. Sliding his cock into her cunt, he plunged once—twice—thrice. “Are you ready?” he asked through gritted teeth.

She nodded. Her long, dark hair in wild disarray around her shoulders, she reached for him.

“Touch yourself. Fuck your pussy with your fingers,” he ordered as he teased the head of his cock into her anus. His throat tightened as her hand skimmed down her belly and through the thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs. “Aye. Slide your fingers in your hole.”

Her breaths came in sharp gasps. He began to move. “Aye. Fuck yourself.” He plunged into her with steady, hard thrusts. Grasping her thighs, he pulled her to him. Buried to the hilt, sweat broke out on his brow.

Feeling her fingers pumping her channel through the thin membrane of skin separating her pussy from her anus, a low, keening growl broke from his throat. The urge to bite her—to place his territorial mark on her shoulder—grew to immense proportions. His wolf wanted—nay—needed the world to know she was his forever or until death took them from each other’s arms.

The first twinges of her orgasm sluiced down his cock, milking his seed. Nay. He fought the infection flowing through his veins and his wolf’s howl inching up his throat. Resisting his shift prickling his skin, his seed shot into her in the same instant she screamed his name.

“William!”

“Nay!” he shouted. Scrambling off her, his instincts screamed, “bite her” and “finish this game.” His chest heaved as the internal battle for control continued. The pain of his transformation came in short spurts. Closing his eyes to the agony etching his skin, he ran for the window.

Get out of here.

He stared at the last dying rays of daylight. Two days until the full moon. ‘Twas the power of the waxing moon that had him acting like a deranged lunatic. He’d been here before. The memory of his virginal transformation forever etched on his mind.

‘Twas as if he’d been infected all over again.

Glancing at her, he fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m going out for a bit.” I’m going to run hither and yon over the countryside to clear my head. He might even go as far as hunt for a deer. “Keep the door locked until I return,” he informed her gruffly.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked as she struggled to her feet.

His gaze traced her pristine shoulder blades. A foul taste filled his mouth. ‘Twas familiar. ‘Twas the precursor to his transformation. “No, my sweetling. ‘Tis the Wolf’s Bane.”

She nodded. The tears glistening in her eyes made him feel like a heel for his callous attitude. I’d move mountains to comfort you, but I will not chance my wolf’s determination to bite you. “Do not open the door or window for anything.” He strode for the door. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she vowed. A tear slid down her cheek.

“I won’t be gone long.” With that said, he walked out of their apartment and began his shift.

* * * *

“Not long?” Eliza paced before the windows dressed in her camisole. “Not long?!” Angry with fear that he’d met up with another werewolf or a vampire, she stopped to stare out the window. I can’t see how six hours is not long in your book, Mr. Cope.

Sick to her stomach with worry, she forced herself to calm. It does me no good to fret so. Willing him to appear in the garden, she was at her wit’s end when the clock tolled one in the morning. “Where are you?”

So far her brain had conjured up every worst case scenario it could think of and a few she’d never considered before. What ifs and what might have already happeneds kept her tied in a knot of nervous tension. Sitting on the bench, she blew out an exasperated sigh. Clasping her hands in her lap, she bit her lower lip to keep from shrieking in frustration.

Her heart clanged hard in her chest when the next scenario socked through her. “If only…” she whispered. Closing her eyes, she prayed to the Goddess of the Tuatha de Danan for insight. “If only I could teleport.”

Tingles raced over her skin. Cold air rushed over her scantily-clad body. “Oof.” The air gushed from her lungs when she hit something hard. “What the blazes?”

“Eliza,” William’s voice permeated her thoughts.

She opened her eyes to view a sight that made her stomach roil. Her fingers clutched his broad shoulders as he slumped to the ground. By the light of the nearly full moon, she took in the damage to his body. Several stab wounds marred his chest and shoulders. The smell of blood and dirt filled her nostrils. “What happened?”

“Vampires,” he whispered. His head lolled to and fro on her shoulder. “Wish yourself to your father’s house. Now.”

“I won’t leave you.” With great care, she settled him on the ground. Blood—his blood—soaked her camisole. “You stay with me, William Cope. Do you hear me? Don’t leave me.” Sobs gathered in her chest. She placed her hand on his chest and willed his heart to pump stronger. “Don’t do this.”

The tears broke loose when he lay on the ground as still as death. The blood oozing from his wounds turned a grizzly black as it stained snow. “Nay!” she wailed. She tried to rouse him. “William?”

He peeked at her. His words slurred. “Eliza, you have to wish yourself to your father’s house. ‘Tis not safe for you here.” He tried to raise his arm. For what purpose, she didn’t know. “The vampires want to destroy you…” his voice trailed off.

“Elfheim. The home of the Elves.” Her brain raced rough shod over her limited options. Not even her full-blooded fae father could save William. But the elves—“You said you’d traveled there in hopes of finding an antidote for the Wolf’s Bane.”

Panic infused her when he remained silent. “Of course, the Elves.” The oldest and wisest of the Goddess’s creations, they were the great hunters of her forests and renowned healers. “Please,” she begged the Goddess. “Please, help me.”

She stared sightlessly at the ground. Knowing what she had to do to keep him alive long enough to get him to the great Realm of Elfheim, she blew out a breath. She’d diminish as well. Only unlike her father, she wouldn’t let her gifts go slowly but would bestow all her essence on William. “Whatever gifts I’ve been given, let them pass to him, for I cannot and will not allow this noble soul to pass into darkness.” She cried all the harder when the tingles didn’t dance across her skin. Silently she screamed for a little more magicke. She had to have a bit more of her gift she could give to him. “Nay.” Hugging him tight, she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Oh, nay.”

Pulling him closer, she rocked back and forth. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks to splash on his handsome face. I…

“You must love him very much. ‘Tis not often that I am called to Earth by a half-caste fae,” a man said.

Blinded by the blazing white light the man emitted, Eliza flinched when he came forward. “Who…who are you?”

“I am Soren Elfson, Prince of the Elves.” He knelt beside William. A frown creased his brow. “His wounds were made with a silver blade.” Eliza’s gaze met his and locked. “I cannot heal him here.” The news devastated her. “He needs all the wisdom of the elves to release death’s hold on him.” He turned his torso to face a thicket of chestnut trees. “Liv, come here.”

“Aye, Uncle.”

A Valkyrie. Eliza eyed the woman cautiously as she strode toward them. Mystic protector of a warrior’s soul, they were the stuff of myth and legend even to the paranormal world.

“Eliza, take Liv’s hand,” Prince Elfson commanded in a no-nonsense allowed tone.

“How did you know my name?” Eliza wanted to know.

Prince Elfson pinned her to her spot with a glare. “Do as I say.”

Eliza didn’t think twice. She clasped the immortal warrioress’s hand. An Ethereal Gate opened for them. Eliza squealed when the Valkyrie jerked her to her feet and pushed her through the vortex.

She stood on a narrow bridge that spanned a cloudscape. Up a steep slope she spied the glittering branches of the World Tree, Yygsdril. Recalling the stories her father had told her of the elves, she remembered him saying that in the days of the ancients, the three Norns, immortals who determined every man’s destiny, performed their duty at the base of the mystic oak.

She was in the most distant realm in all the Borderlands. “Elfheim.”

“Aye,” Liv acknowledged. Prince Elfson with William slung over his shoulder stood a few steps behind the Valkyrie. “Head for the Great Hall. ‘Tis just beyond Yygsdril. We need to hurry. His life-force is waning.”

Eliza didn’t need to be told twice. She headed toward the massive oak tree, putting all her hopes and faith for William’s very existence in the hands of the Elves.

Chapter Nine

Thanks be and merry make.

February 20, 1814

“Good morn,” Eliza told the man lying in her arms. “’Tis been a long journey for you.” And then some.

“Eliza,” William whispered. “Where?” He winced before cracking his eyelids. “The last thing I recall is being in the woods. The vampires wanted to hunt you down.”

“Shh. I know.” She’d heard all about William’s brush with death from Prince Soren who’d been given hourly reports from the elders who’d cared for her beloved. She was still awed that William would fight as hard as he had to protect her from a vampire attack. Then, mortally wounded, he’d tried to walk back to his shop to tell her to go home where she’d be safe.

He’d risked all for her.

Brushing her fingers through his hair, she turned her gaze to the stretch of water spread out before her. The sea seemed bigger now than it had in her youth. Unapproachable. Deadly. “We’re on the banks of the Sea of Serenity. The Elves saved your life.”

He pulled her attention back to his face with his fingers on her chin. “You feel different.” He sounded confused. “I sense a change in you.”

She thought about those days when the elves worked their mystic power over him and she came to grips with her decision to diminish. A simple statement was all it took. “I gave you something, a part of me, which sustained you until the elves could heal you.” I don’t regret it either.

“What did you do?”

“I passed my minor magicke to you.” She traced her fingertips across his brow, trying to smooth away his frown. “Without you, there is no future for me.”

“I don’t understand.” He cupped her head in his hand.

“William, rather than live on without you, I chose a mortal life.” How can I explain to you how much you mean to me?

“Nay.” He sat up and shook his head. “Why would you do this?”

“Because I love you.”

“And I you.” He leaned down and kissed her. When he raised his head, he inspected her face with his amber gaze. “I would gladly give back this piece of you.”

“You can’t. ‘Twas mine and mine alone to give.” She tried to smile but her grin faded beneath his stark expression. “I beg of you to respect my decision.”

“I do.” He nodded. “I beg of you to respect mine.”

Without warning he bit her shoulder. Exquisite pain rolled through her. “Ah.” ‘Twas part ecstasy, a tiny bit of humility and a good portion of reality. As much as she couldn’t let him die, he was as loathe to let her go into the dark mists of death by way of her decision. He was not above infecting her with the Wolf’s Bane to see his wish come to fruition.

“Now we are the same kind and I will do aught in my control to protect you,” he whispered when he finally raised his head. “I will hold you through the pain of the virginal change and love you until eternity fades away if you wish it, my love.”

Joy bloomed in her soul. “What do you wish of me, my Master?”

He rolled her over. His erection poked against her side. “This time, there is no Master or slave. There is only us.”

“Together,” she whispered.

“Forever.” His hot breath ruffled her hair.

“Or until death takes us from each other’s arms.”

He grinned at her. “Which won’t be aught time soon if I have my way.”

“I’m holding you to that promise.” She leaned into his kiss and reveled in his embrace.

The End

About the Author:

In Belladonna’s formative years, her mother told her, “an imagination is a terrible thing to waste.” That’s what happens when your mother is also an author. In adulthood, life took her in a different direction. She became a professional portrait photographer.

Her mother never gave up on her imaginative daughter and finally convinced her to try to write a story. Drawing inspiration from the candid moments that occur in her daytime job, she believes every human being has a story to tell. She writes paranormal, multi-cultural contemporary romance with emphasis on real life cultural divides; historical, fanta-historical and science fiction.

When not working on her next story she’s out with friends or kills time with her family, but her camera is never far from her side and the next story never far from her thoughts.

Web site: www.belladonnabordeaux.com

Facebook: Belladonna Bordeaux

Blog: http://bellabeenbad.blogspot.com/

Meet Lsb Authors At The House Of Sin
Lsbooks.Net

We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books

LSbooks.com

for other exciting erotic romances.

2007: Terran Realm

Urban fantasy world: TerranRealm.com

Featured Series:

The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors

Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs

The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan

Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay

Fallen: by Tiffany Aaron

Fallen angels in hot flight to redeem their wings

The Max Series by JB Skully

Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother…

And many, many more!