The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(38)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Hunter’s blurry eyes took in Rosalind’s form as she ran to his side and knelt to the ground, and then Montmouth rounded the corner and laughed.

He laughed.

"Did she clock you, then?" he asked.

Gwen scoffed. "I did nothing of the sort! He simply collapsed into a puddle at my feet!"

"Is he foxed?" Montmouth asked, as if Hunter wasn’t having a real-life hallucination.

"He said not," Gwen answered, and then touched Hunter’s forehead.

He reeled back and with a curse scrambled to his feet. "This is not real. I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming."

Gwen laughed. "I believe we’ve been over this before, Hunter. I would never visit you in your dreams."

"But, but, the carriage… and Redding? Why are you not with Redding?"

The room fell silent.

Montmouth cleared his throat. "Did you hit your head during the fall?"

"No." Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off Gwen. Was this real? Was she real? Or had he suffered through so much pain and agony that his mind was making up nonsensical things?

"Strange." Montmouth scratched his head. "Your hair. It is… well, it is quite long."

"What?" Hunter snapped out of his fog and glared at Montmouth. "What the devil does that have to do with anything?" He pointed at Gwen. "Why is she alive?"

Montmouth laughed. "Really, Haverstone, I’m not so much of an ogre that I would shoot my own sister-in-law for trying to seduce you."

Dreaming. He truly was dreaming. Gwen would rather seduce a cactus than him. He laughed bitterly at the joke and shook his head. "Right, and I’m Saint Peter."

Gwen poked him in the chest. "No, you’re the devil himself! How dare you tell my brother-in-law that I tried to seduce you! And then keep me imprisoned in my own house! And then…" Gwen reeled back. "Why are you wearing different clothes, and why the devil is your hair longer?"

"That’s what I said," Montmouth grumbled, and scratched his head. "Will someone please tell me what the blazes is going on?"

Gwen examined Hunter.

Hunter, possibly a little too excited to see her alive and breathing, did the first thing he could think of. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

In front of Montmouth, God, and everyone.

Chapter Twenty-one

Wolf—

So you desire to know what I’m doing when I read these notes? I should think that the burning hole in the middle of this correspondence should suffice. To be quite honest, I read the note, offer my reply, then pull out my pistol and shoot it. But for some reason, the agitation and irritation do not leave me. You’re like a plague; therefore, I burn every note. And while I watch the flames, do you know what I do? I smile.

—Red

Hunter’s lips were firm against hers. Heat enveloped her body as he tugged her forcefully against him. Hands dipped into her hair causing a nervous fluttering in her belly.

His tongue slipped into her mouth.

His kiss, unlike previous kisses, was so tender, she fought the urge to gasp from the shock of it all.

With her heart beating erratically, she wrapped herself around his body, allowing her br**sts to press against his firm chest.

"What the devil!" Montmouth shouted, pulling them apart, but Hunter just reached for her over Montmouth’s hands, as if losing her touch was such a painful idea that he could no more release her than stop breathing.

"Do you mind!" Montmouth shouted again, this time punching Hunter in the stomach. Hunter doubled over, but as he fell, his hand reached out yet again toward Gwen.

She took it and held on. Much to the shock of the entire family, who stood with mouths gaping open, as if she had taken complete leave of her senses.

"Cease from touching one another!" Montmouth grumbled. "Now tell me what the blazes is going on before I lose my mind!"

"I cannot." Hunter straightened to his full height. "Up until a few minutes ago, I thought I was dreaming."

"Yes, well, up until a few minutes ago, I was considering allowing you to live." Montmouth narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Now, explain why you would accuse Gwen of seducing you, leave, then return and pretend to have not been here. Everyone saw you. Saints alive! I spoke to you! Now, unless you have an identical twin waltzing around, you’d better explain. Now."

Gwen watched the color drain completely from Hunter’s face. "Impossible." He paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair. "It cannot be. He is dead, or presumed dead! He disappeared the day she died, the day…" Hunter began to shake. "I think I need a drink."

"Would that make you feel better, then?" Montmouth asked.

"Immensely."

"Rosalind, hide the whiskey. Oh, and do send a note to Dominique. It seems we are to have a duel."

"A duel?" Gwen gasped. "Whatever for?"

"He kissed you." Montmouth shrugged.

"So you plan to shoot him?"

"My dear, I see no other option."

"Than death?"

Montmouth shrugged. The man shrugged! As if killing Hunter was the same as stepping on an ant!

"You cannot simply shoot him because he kissed me! Besides it wasn’t even the first time!"

Rosalind gasped. Montmouth’s face turned an interesting shade of purple, and though Hunter still appeared pale, a smug grin appeared on his face. Rogue.

"I’ll kill him where he stands," Montmouth announced, eyes narrowing as he purposefully stepped toward Hunter.

Hunter, deciding against bravery, scooted over and stood behind Gwen. "I believe if you hear all of the facts, then you will be less likely to shoot me. Besides, I’ve already been shot once this week."

Gwen nodded. "True, he has been shot, but that was after I broke his nose."

"Not helping," Hunter murmured behind her.

"Five minutes." Montmouth held up his hand. "You have five minutes to explain before I lose my mind and shoot Hunter on irritation alone."

Gwen could feel the heat of Hunter as he stood behind her. His breath tickled her neck. She wanted nothing more than to lean against him and close her eyes. What was happening to her? She was supposed to be his partner. She refused to become attached to the type of man who would rather stare at himself in the mirror and smile than give any part of himself to a woman.

"I am not necessarily, er, retired." Hunter walked around Gwen and approached Montmouth, hands raised in surrender. "However, it would be best for us to continue this conversation in the privacy of your study."