“Please, Henry.” Her plea sounds as desperate as I feel.
Her thighs are soft and warm under my hands. She presses her breasts into me, and I close my eyes. But my mind immediately flashes to Harlow in the boarding house, arching against me, kissing me with a fierce hunger.
Divine dammit!I need to replace that vision with something else.
I skim my lips down Miriam’s neck, and she shivers.
A twig breaks behind me and I freeze with my lips pressed to Miriam’s pounding pulse. She opens her mouth to speak, but I press a finger to her lips.
Another crunch of leaves breaks the stillness, and then a breeze sweeps from behind me, carrying the familiar, soft floral scent of Stellarium Blossoms.
Harlow. I hate that I know her by scent alone.
“Yes, wife? Did you need something?” I call over my shoulder. “Or do you like to watch?”
I can practically feel the irritation wafting off her.
I slowly release Miriam. She looks bereft, blinking up at me with startled doe eyes.
“Sorry, Miriam. It seems my wife-to-be doesn’t approve. Run along.” I smack her backside and she rushes away with an irritated glance over her shoulder.
Once the sounds of her retreat have faded, I turn. Harlow stands ten feet away, leaning against a thick tree trunk.
“Lovely, it’s not what you think. That’s my friend Miriam.”
“I have friends, too,” she says. “It’s not a big deal.”
I don’t like the jealousy that uncoils in my stomach when I think about how true that is. How many people have probably sat with her in dark corners of the bar, thinking they were going to get to fuck her only to wind up dead. I also think about the pretty bartender who smiled at her so tenderly, and for one insane, irrational moment, I hate everyone who has ever touched her.
I force the feeling away and turn on her. “You’re jealous.”
Her head snaps toward me. “Only of how delusional you are. I wouldn’t mind being out of touch with reality about now.” She waves herhand in the direction Miriam disappeared. “You didn’t need to stop on my account. It looked like you were just getting to the good part.”
“If you think that was the good part, you have an awful lot to learn. Don’t worry. I’m a very willing teacher.”
She tilts her chin up in challenge. “So am I.”
“If that was true, you wouldn’t be in these woods on a feast night hunt.” I start to circle her, slowly moving closer. She stays put, trying to look apathetic. But her heart pounds and all I read on her now is excitement.
I come up behind her and lean closer. “Want to play, Harlow? I’ll give you a head start.”
She tugs at her dark cloak. “Didn’t you want me not to run from you? Besides, I’m afraid I’m not properly dressed for the occasion.”
I continue to round on her and the cloak gapes open, offering me a view of her nightdress. Divine damn me—the material clings to her curves, and her nipples press against the thin silk.
“I don’t know. I think you’d manage okay,” I say.
A sly smile spreads over her face, and suddenly it’s not so clear which of us is the hunter and which is the prey.
I shake my head. That won’t do.
“You clearly came out here to snoop and I warned you not to come out here alone on a hunt night,” I say. “You could have received a very brutal welcome to our customs, all because you could not be bothered to listen to me.”
“You’re my fiancé, not my warden.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I grab her wrist and drag her into the forest. I can hear someone nearby already getting started, so I pull her down the narrow trail. We round a large rocky summit and start down the incline. When we reach the bottom, a soft whimper from the hollow of the rock overhang tells me we’re in the right place.
