Taken by Moonlight (3 page)

She rose up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

He jerked back with surprise. But a heartbeat later, his lips were devouring hers a second time. With the same commanding self-assurance that had at first piqued her ire, he returned her kiss. She was beginning to enjoy his habit of taking charge.

She felt him not only on her lips. His kisses were sinfully intimate, spiraling through her body, reaching all the way down to her curling toes. A heat gathered between her legs and lapped at her belly. He fed erotic flames sparking deep inside her, flames only his touch could extinguish.

As if sensing her growing need, he skimmed his gloved fingers down her arms and encircled her waist. He caressed her through the thin fabric of her gown, discovering places that made her squirm with delight. He then cupped her breast. His possessive heat branded her even through the layers of her muslin and cotton. He gently squeezed, awakening a need deep in her womb.

She arched her back toward him, savoring the warm shivers his touch created. Sensations built everywhere at once. Desperate to find a release from his exquisite torture, she shifted her hips against his hardness.

“Amelia… Amelia, my lovely cub, you strain my control,” he groaned into her mouth. He sounded pained. His roving hand moved lower, closer to the heat building between her legs. Inch by delicious inch he eased her skirt up, his hand on her bare thigh, moving higher, higher. Lia’s breaths came in short pants now. Her eyes rolled closed as she lost herself in his embrace.

But he pulled away before he found the center of her wanton heat. Like a promise unfulfilled, he left her wanting him. She cried out her frustration and bit his bottom lip.

She was stepping over a line every lady knew to avoid. But this was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be touched. By him. And only him. And heavens, with a low growl in his throat he started touching her again, caressing her thighs, caressing her breasts. He then cursed and shed his gloves before working the bodice of her gown open. He slipped its fabric from her shoulders and smiled as the light blue muslin dropped to around her waist. Making silent promises with his kisses, he eased a breast from the confines of her corset and the cotton chemise underneath. With deft fingers, he pinched and rolled her nipple until it tightened into a taut bud of pleasure.

He then took her breast into his hot mouth. His lips closed tightly around her nipple. In that moment she became a part of him and he, a part of her. As he suckled her, frustrated tears filled her eyes. She pressed her hips more tightly to his body.

She wanted…

She wanted…

More
.

Much more.

This time when he pulled away, her bruised and swollen lips and breasts—her entire body—throbbed with an indefinable need that begged to be answered. She clung to him, not willing to let him go. She wanted his kisses and whatever else he could give her.

She wanted
him
.

Shocking, she knew, but everything about being with him felt so right, so natural. She wanted him to take her body to do with what he would.

He drew in a ragged breath and swore fluidly under his breath in a language she didn’t recognize, but the meaning was clear. His eyes were wide, dazed. He swore again. He gave his head a shake and peeled her clinging hands off his lapels. When she tried to pull him back to her, he lifted his palm in warning and gave her a fierce look.

“No,” he said, still frowning. He backed further away from her. “I have gone too far already. This wasn’t supposed to— I wasn’t suppose to— I— I am sorry.”

“Lia
! What are you doing?
” Aunt Lettie rushed toward her errant charge, her purple turban in danger of wobbling right off her head. Lia clutched her loose bodice to her chest. With her dress gaping and her hair in disarray, she had no hope of pretending what had just happened didn’t happen. It was evidence enough to ruin her reputation. A disaster of epic proportions. Her very proper parents were going to be devastated. They had given her everything, and this was how she thanked them?

She should have never run off into the garden with a man she barely knew. She should have never gotten caught up in his game or agreed to such shameful behavior. Propriety, after all, was the foundation of civilization. It was a lesson every young Regency miss knew well.

“And you!” Aunt Lettie took one look at Lord Carew and raised her hand. “Only the worst sort of cad takes advantage of innocent maidens.”

Lord Carew could have easily protected himself from the coming blow, but instead he stood his ground. The older matron’s hand slammed against his jaw with enough force he staggered back several feet.

“This isn’t the end of this, Lord Carew,” Lettie warned, her voice shaking.

“No, it’s just the beginning,” he agreed. He sounded miserable about it. And then he did something that truly confounded Lia. He turned his back to the both of them. “Put yourself back together.” His voice was hard, unfeeling, and so very different than it had been a moment before.

“But-but…” Lia sputtered. This had been the most momentous event in her short life. How could it not have been the same for him?

“Do as I say. Put yourself back together.” If anything, he sounded even more distant. Where was the charming rogue who’d led her down this gilded road to ruin? Oh, she hadn’t been very clever tonight. No, not clever at all. She’d fallen under his spell as easily as an empty-headed calf. “And be quick about it.”

Her hands shaking, Lia fumbled with the ribbons and buttons. Aunt Lettie silently helped, for Lia wouldn’t have been able to manage on her own.

“This is for the best, my dear,” Lettie whispered gently, which only caused Lia to regret her folly so much more. Her aunt wiped a tear from Lia’s cheek. It was too late for recriminations. The damage that had already been done could never be undone.

“You won’t have her money,” Lettie directed the words toward Carew’s still turned back. She then softened her voice again. “Come, my dear Lia. It is late enough. We don’t need to return to the ballroom. We shall take the back gate out to the alley and clear our heads with the fresh air as we march home. As you know, my town house is less than a block away. You shall stay with me tonight.”

Lettie paused. Her gaze returned to Carew, who had turned back around to face them. Lettie’s lips tightened. “You will be hearing from Lia’s father on the morrow. Good night.”

“But Aunt, Papa won’t be home until…” Lia’s words trailed off as an eerie fog rolled over the back garden fence, down the stone path, covering them all in a thick yellow haze.

A half-dozen dark shadows emerged from the bleakest part of the gloom. “Ah, is it not the beautiful Lady Amelia Routledge?” A finely dressed, but frighteningly bulky gentleman blocked their escape at the garden gate. His accent was thick, Russian, perhaps. A roughly dressed gang gathered around him. “At last we meet.”

Lia’s heart pounded in her throat. Though the man was dressed like a gentleman, a vicious gleam glittered in his eyes, and a wicked slant pulled at his sideways smile.

“Stay away from us,” she warned as she backed away, pulling Aunt Lettie along with her.

“Ah, ah,” he warned. He surged forward and grabbed Lia by the arm. With one sharp tug, he pulled her snug against his chest. “You are not to go anywhere without me.”

“Release her!” Aunt Lettie bellowed. Using her silver-handled cane like a club, she struck a raggedly dressed man who dashed at her. Blood spurted from the man’s nose. She hit a second, much larger, man on the head. He crumbled to the stone pavers.

She appeared ready to take on the entire legion of villains. Two of the gang’s men backed up, circling with the measured step of a hound approaching an angry badger. Lettie swung her cane again. It missed its mark and clanged on a stone paver.

Not willing to give up so easily, Lettie let out a most unladylike curse and turned her ire on the man holding Lia. She raised her cane high in the air. “Release my niece, or I shall bash your pudgy head into your pudgy neck.”

The man wasn’t as pudgy as he was thick. Muscular. Handsome, but unlike Carew’s disarming good looks, this man’s striking appearance did nothing to assuage Lia’s fear of him. His arms, massive cords of muscles, squeezed Lia’s ribs so tightly they felt as if they might snap. But she didn’t see a need to point this out to Lettie. Her aunt wouldn’t stop until they were both safe…or both dead.

Since lending her aunt a helping hand appeared to be their only hope, Lia struggled against her captor while furiously trying to come up with a better plan of escape. She twisted and kicked at his legs, but the man’s grip only tightened.

“
Yes
.” His quickening breath brushed her ear. A hard bulge in his pants pressed against her backside. “
Fight us
.”

His excitement only made her more frantic to get away from him.

“Lord Carew!” she called. Where had that blackguard gone? Hadn’t he seen the men come through the garden gates? Surely he hadn’t fled into the dark leaving Lia and her aunt to face this horrible fate alone. She couldn’t imagine him playing the part of a coward. Not the self-assured always-in-command Lord Carew. So where was he?

“I have no money, you bounder,” Aunt Lettie shouted as more men charged her like wild dogs. “Get away from me.” She swung her cane wildly.

A thin woman with stringy brown hair grabbed hold of Lettie’s gown from behind, ripping it as she pushed Lettie into a prickly rose bush. The purple turban went flying.

Lia screamed. She could do nothing to help her aunt. The gang, dressed in rags, looked hungry, desperate. The thin woman pounced on Lettie and punched her in the side of her head.

“Stop that! Leave her alone!” Lia cried. The woman pushed Lettie’s face in the depths of the thorny bush over and over until Lettie stopped fighting back. No matter how fiercely Lia struggled to break free, she was helpless. Powerless to help her beloved aunt.

“If you agree to come quietly with us, we will stop tormenting the old woman,” her captor said, his ever-tightening grip squeezing every bit of air from her chest. She was on the verge of fainting when he twisted her around until she stared into his strange yellow eyes. “You are mine.” He growled, a deep guttural sound only an animal would make. It must have been the fog, but his face appeared to change. His teeth grew longer, more menacing. His features elongated, transforming him into a dog with a snout…or perhaps a wolf. But…but there were no wolves in England. “The old woman is useless to us. Kill her.”

“No!” Lia twisted sharply away from the monster, finally breaking free of his hold. The gaunt woman crouched over Aunt Lettie like a hound would stand over a fox moments before it went in for the kill.

“
No!
” Lia pulled at the woman’s arms. But the woman was much stronger than her haggard body looked. Lia couldn’t get her to budge. Much to her horror, the woman opened her mouth, revealing a line of extra-large, razor-sharp teeth. She lurched forward, going for Aunt Lettie’s exposed neck.

Lia, on her knees now, beat at the woman’s shoulders and face. “
Leave her alone! Leave her alone!
” she sobbed.

“Enough.” The sharp command came from a refined English voice Lia instantly recognized.

The crazed woman halted mid-lunge. So did Lia.

“Lord Carew,” Lia whispered. His warm, gentle hands lifted her from the ground and set her back on her feet. “You came back for us. Thank goodness. Thank goodness.”

She pressed herself against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. They weren’t safe from danger yet. Carew was just one man. What match was he against six hellishly strong beasts?

The lead monster growled.

Lord Carew, apparently not the least bit frightened of these half-man, half-beastly creatures, stood strong and tall against them. “Stand down, Vlad.”

Lia held her breath, expecting to be attacked, or killed, or worse.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she waited.

And waited.

Remarkably, the monsters remained where they stood. “My aunt’s house is not a block away. I would be ever so grateful if you would see us home. Lettie is hurt. She needs to be looked after. Perhaps you can carry her?” Lia blathered thoughtlessly. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t…”

There was no reason for the monsters to have obeyed Carew. He wasn’t that charming. And no matter how strong or clever, he certainly wouldn’t be a match for all of them at once. “I’m not sure how you…”

She suddenly noticed most of the beasts had gathered behind Lord Carew.

“Lord Carew?” She looked up at him.

“Vlad, you can’t hunt in the gardens of Mayfair like this.” His voice was still as hard as the stones in the garden wall. Dangerous. “It will cause a panic and draw too much attention. Possibly bring the hunters.”

“Lord Carew?” she asked.

He didn’t look at her. The truth of their situation was beginning to dawn on her. He wasn’t their savior. He wasn’t rushing to their rescue. “You’re not going to help us.”

“No.” He pressed his gloved hand over her mouth before she could scream again. “The carriage is at the gate. We’ll take them both to my residence.”

CHAPTER
THREE

It hadn’t been a tidy abduction. Under better circumstances Dimitri would have done things differently, much differently. He certainly wouldn’t have allowed Vlad to man-handle her like he had. But Dimitri had wanted to see Lady Amelia fight, or rather see if she
would
fight.

He’d also hoped the shock and stress of being taken so forcefully would cause her to shift.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t.

He stalked through the kitchens belowstairs, staying away from the pack gathered in his parlor and even further away from the weeping Lady Amelia.

He knew he shouldn’t care what happened to her. She
wasn’t
his concern. Not really. He’d done his duty to
his
family and
his
pack. He’d tracked her down and had made it possible for the young beauty to be returned to her own kind. He’d even personally attended to Lady Amelia’s aunt, treating her wounds and making sure the older woman slept peacefully. As for the rest…