The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(19)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

The man moaned into her mouth. She briefly contemplated kicking him but it would do nothing except arouse him more, considering he was straddling her. Perhaps this was his torture, and what a magnificent torture it was.

Gwen’s lips parted, and a small cry escaped them as her head fell back. "More," she said. "Give me more." Although it was no pretense, she hoped that he would at least untie her hands so that she could wrap them around his neck, and in that moment she would escape. She would flee, even if his kiss was the very devil.

"First, tell me what I want to know." A large smooth hand reached underneath her skirts, trailing up her calf to the ties of her satin stockings.

"What would you like to know?" She swallowed the bile in her throat. Was he going to rape her?

"Who do you work for?"

"Myself." She grinned, though she became more ill by the minute.

"And the French?"

"Are no longer a threat," she answered boldly. Why would he ask about his own people?

"Oh?"

****

Gwen nodded and squirmed beneath him, making it absolute torture to be in that position and do nothing about it. "I’m loyal to my country."

Hunter leaned forward and kissed her again. "Even in the midst of absolute torture, you would still stay loyal to your country?"

"Yes."

"So we skip to the main course." Hunter pulled away from her lap and went to the table to grab his knife. He also needed time to cool his arousal.

"I thought we were going to make love first."

"I changed my mind," he snapped. "I have no use for you."

Gwen said nothing.

He came up behind her, holding the knife to her delicate throat, his hands shaking as he did so.

"One more chance, my sweet. Tell me who you work for. Betray your country. Just one tiny little piece of information. Anything I can put to good use. Perhaps who is decoding the ciphers? Say the word and I’ll set you free."

"Freedom is in the eye of the beholder. I would be physically free, but my heart would be imprisoned with guilt. If you must kill me, do so."

Stunned, Hunter gripped the knife closer to her neck. She gasped. He swore, and then cut her ropes and pulled her blindfold off.

"I’m sorry," he said in English.

Gwen looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "You will be."

Chapter Nine

Wolf—

I would apologize for breaking your nose. But I’m not sorry. Besides, it was more of a snout, and you deserved every broken bone for holding a knife to my throat. Do it again and I’ll hold a knife to… well, use your imagination.

—Red

Furious, Gwen could only look at Hunter in shock. The cad had kidnapped her! Tortured her! What the devil was wrong with him? And why had he done it? Why the kissing? Why the… touching?

"You’re insane," she blurted as she jumped from the chair, while simultaneously pulling a knife from her sleeve.

His eyes went wide he lifted his hands in front of him. "I had to be sure."

"What about trust?" She thrust the knife into the air.

Hunter continued to back up. "I trust no one."

"Could have told me that before you tried to kill me!"

Hunter laughed. The man laughed! "I would never have killed you, my sweet." He winked. "I was merely testing you. You passed, by the way."

"Oh." Gwen laughed. "I passed, well, fantastic! That makes it all worth it, now, doesn’t it?"

"Yes?" Hunter lifted an eyebrow and made his way toward the door.

"Don’t you dare," Gwen ordered as he reached for the lock. Like a typical man, he didn’t listen, nor did he take her threat seriously. So she threw the knife at his hand.

And missed it by an inch.

Hunter cursed a blue streak and glared at her. "You could have stabbed me!"

"If I had meant to stab you, my knife would be buried in your neck up to its hilt, Wolf." Gwen lunged for him, angrier than she had ever been in her entire life.

Hunter wasn’t a typical agent. He didn’t shy away from female spies. No, instead he fought back. Which intrigued her more than she was willing to admit.

He threw her against the wall, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. "I had to be certain."

"You could have just held me at gunpoint. You didn’t have to kiss me! Or, or touch me!"

Hunter’s eyes went dark as he leaned in and sniffed her neck again. "Yes, yes I did."

Gwen went still. His scent, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming her good sense. Her lips tingled with the memory of his scorching kiss.

"You hurt me," she mumbled as he held her in place.

"Then allow me to kiss and make it better."

She had no time to respond as Hunter bent down and kissed her neck. A hungry growl erupted from his lips, and he pushed his body against hers.

Gwen bit at his lip. He cursed but continued to kiss her. "I hate you," she murmured.

"I hate you too," he agreed, and his tongue chose that exact moment to plunge into her mouth and greedily take possession.

Her body jerked against him, wrenching free of his grasp. "This needs to stop. We’ve crossed so many lines…"

"Forget the lines. I never was one to follow rules anyway." Hunter released her hands and lifted her into his arms. She had no choice but to cling to him as he continued to do wicked things with his tongue, things no debutante should experience on her first come out.

"Stop," she said breathlessly.

Hunter released her. They simultaneously stepped back from one another.

"I’ve been very… er…"

"I think the word you are looking for is bad. You’ve been very bad, and clearly you’re losing your mind."

"That, too." Hunter ran a hand through his hair. "The thing is…" He paced in front of her. "I cannot just have one taste. The more I taste, the more I want."

"And when did you first realize you had a drinking problem?"

Hunter’s head snapped up. He rolled his eyes. "If only it were a problem that could be solved with drink."

"Am I the problem?" Gwen asked as she clenched her dress between her hands. Unable to trust herself to keep from touching him if her hands were not occupied. He was too beautiful. Firelight danced off his high cheekbones and his eyes. Those eyes that women nearly fainted over. Golden brown eyes stared back at her through dark sooty lashes. A woman could experience the greatest of pleasure if only she looked into his eyes. For his gaze was like a physical caress.