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Garrick offered a gentle smile, bringing her attention to the shape and fullness of his mouth. Once again Aisley wondered what it would be like be kissed by him. Unlike the fumbling kisses she’d known with Andrew White, she was certain the Lord Danford could threaten a woman’s chastity with his kisses alone.
“I have a particular fondness for spots, Aisley. Your birthmark is a small spot beneath your chin. It is enchanting. Your freckles are light and meant to be kissed.” Rumbling deep in his throat, he leaned closer and pressed kisses to the freckles on the side of her face. “I want to taste each one with my tongue.” Sweeping the same freckles with his tongue, his mouth settled very near to hers. Her heart fluttered madly. His scent and closeness warmed her. He smelled nice, like someone who favored putting spices in his wine to keep it from tasting sour and enjoyed frequent baths. He was clean, shaven, his teeth white and even. Though he held her still with one hand and only his mouth touched her, she desperately wanted to be closer.
“Do not, it is improper,” she said.
“We are to be married. A kiss between us is not improper,” he insisted.
“We are not even betrothed yet, milord.” Struggling anew, Aisley attempted to sidestep him, but he held her fast.
“We shall be soon enough. All I want is a kiss. Let me taste you, Aisley Reeves. You want this as much as I do, don’t you?” he tempted.
“I do not think —” Firm lips pressed against Aisley’s, warm and enticing. Her heart pounded, a pleasant pang tightening deep in her womb at the feel of his mouth against hers.
It felt so right to be kissed by him. She knew then that she’d never again see him as the Earl of Danford. As their mouths moved against one another, he became Garrick, the man she’d secretly wanted to woo her.
Shaping her upper and lower lip with the tip of his tongue, Garrick withdrew, taking a deep breath. “Cease thinking, Aisley, you need only feel.” Reclaiming her mouth, he drew her away from the wall and turned a little, bending her over his arm. At his mercy, she sighed with pleasure and grasped his shoulders.
Mayhap she should have resisted. Instead she welcomed the thrust of his tongue between her parted lips and clung to his breadth and size, glorying in the sharp heat that arrowed from her heart to her womanhood. Tasting spiced wine, she hungered for more. He felt hot, masculine and she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him and let him devour her mouth. Their tongues dueled, danced and parried, revealing a glimpse of what they could be as a couple.
Unable to remain still, she sought to explore his shoulders and arms. His muscles quivered beneath her touch. A masculine groan vibrated from his throat, giving her a heartbeat to catch her breath.
Worried that she was permitting too much, she thought to object and straightened. He assisted, but kept her in his embrace, the wall still at her back. “We should not be doing such things,” she managed to say.
“You’re beautiful, Aisley. I cannot believe I’ve resisted kissing you until now,” he whispered. “Everything about you, from your pretty face, freckles and sweet, honeyed kisses, makes you beautiful. I want to kiss you again. Permit me, please.” He kept one arm about her lower back, his touch gentle. His other hand came up to frame the side of her face as his hips pushed against hers, pinning her buttocks to the wall. Her heartbeat skipped when his knee nudged her thighs apart, his hardened manhood sliding between her thighs.
Thinking she should resist, Aisley bucked, succeeding in notching him against her. His warmth and strength seeped into her, awakening her senses. Slowly, he ground his hips into her, circling, tempting her with each subtle thrust. Deep, deep within her womb a wicked ache began, compelling her to arch. The ache increased, promising that only Garrick could bring her relief if she permitted him to continue.
Battling between propriety and passion, Aisley soon discovered that resisting Garrick’s advances was futile. Her body responded to his, demanding that he was the one man created to fulfill her deepest, feminine desires. She could no more resist him than she could cease the moon’s cycle.
“Why did you stay away for so long?” she asked when he freed her mouth. Turning her face into his hand, she was tempted to taste the rough skin lining his palm.
“Aisley, can’t you feel how much I want to bed you?” Garrick tightened his arm, angling her to feel the slide of his manhood between her thighs. She moaned aloud, helplessly arching and meeting his purposeful thrusts. Her knees had weakened and she was glad of his strength, for she was certain she’d slide down the wall if he weren’t there. “Your father would have raised you to remain chaste until you are wed. I wanted to respect the traditions he instilled in you. Now that I’ve kissed you and discovered your responsiveness, keeping away from you will be most difficult.”
“Be careful. Temptation such as this must be resisted. One of us could get burned.” Aye, she thought, and if anyone were to know of Garrick’s ability to command a black leopard and speak in her mind, both of them could suffer. “The villagers are worried. They think you practice some sort of evil magic or sorcery. I fear you’ve cast a spell upon me.”
Garrick’s gaze met hers. Compassion softened his countenance. Studying her, he tilted his head and the light from a nearby candle made his eyes glow. Right then, she was awestruck by the shape of his pupils. They were the eyes of a cat. Nay, a leopard, she thought, rebuking herself for such foolishness.
“Do not be afraid of my abilities, Aisley. I will not harm you or anyone in Danford. I do not practice sorcery. I’ve cast no spell. I’ve awakened your desires and it scares you.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, Garrick.” It felt right it to say his name aloud after being kissed witless only moments before. He smelled so good, felt so good, that she found herself seeking another kiss. “Surely it is madness to crave a man’s kiss as I now crave yours. Tell me what I am feeling is real, milord.”
“I am real, little one. This is real.” To prove his word, he whispered kisses from her mouth to her ear. Wanting to be closer, Aisley ran her hand through his long straight hair. It was soft, feeling much like a cat’s warm, thick fur. Amazed by the feel of his hair, she lifted her other hand to his neck and kissed him.
“I want you, little one. Will you let me do more than this?” Garrick asked against her lips.
“More than what?” she asked.
Groaning, he nipped at her lower lip. Something odd emanated from his throat, sounding much like a cat-like rumble. A trembling sound that echoed down to her womb, igniting an inner flame, making her toes curl.
Lost to everything save the feel of his teeth nipping at her mouth and the enticing, deliberate thrusts of his manhood, Aisley sighed with need. She’d never wanted anything like this, never felt temptation cast its spell upon her.
“Will you lie with me, Aisley?” Garrick asked, kissing the sensitive skin just below her ear.
Trying for reason when she desired more of Garrick’s kisses and caresses, she muttered, “I have never—”
“Will you?” he interrupted.
“I shouldn’t. I don’t even know your surname, milord.”
“It is rarely used. If it pleases you to know, my surname is Forrester,” he said.
Ignoring good sense, she allowed Garrick to kiss her lips and shift their weight until her back touched the wall. Surrounded by firmness behind her and his male hardness in front of her, she could not recall her objection.
* * * * *
Garrick took Aisley’s silence as permission to bed her. Her kiss had become addictive. Her touch revealed her innocence. Yet she was instinctively responsive and he wanted her with a fierceness that almost frightened him. With Aisley, he wanted to roar and claim, to sink deep inside of her and bite her throat so that he could convert her with his essence.
A gentleman would not take advantage. He had long been aware that he was not a gentleman. He was panthera and liked to indulge in pleasures of the flesh when his instincts came to the fore. But his desire for her was beyond his e
xperience. Had he felt like this with his previous wives, he would have been a more faithful husband.
Before he could kiss the freckles dotting her cheeks, Aisley stilled and dropped her hands to her sides. When he caught her eyes, he saw her scowl.
“Have you been married before, Garrick?” Aisley asked, keeping him at bay with her hands at his chest.
“Pardon,” he said.
“I heard you say something about your previous wives. Am I right? Have you been married?”
“This is not a topic for discussion right now.”
“Tell me, please, how many wives have you had?”
Garrick admired her stubbornness, but as much as he wanted to talk of something else, he wondered if it was best to tell her about his wives. The closer he came to bedding her, the more danger existed that he would convert her without her knowledge. For now, he would have to restrain his Abcynian instincts until she knew what he was.
“Are you certain you wish to know?” he asked.
Aisley glared. She wrapped her arms before her chest, forbidding him to touch her and he chose to step back.
“Very well, I have been married and widowed twice. Both marriages were fraught with difficulties, which are best explained another night. Aisley, it is not uncommon for a man to have had previous wives. The past matters not to our future. You needn’t chew on your lips. They are lovely and swollen from my kisses. You should be kissed again and often. I want nothing more than to take you back into my arms.”
She shoved away from the wall and dashed across the room. Familiar with chase and capture, he permitted her to keep her distance. He could overcome her with ease when he was ready, though he wouldn’t at the moment. Not when she didn’t trust him.
With the kitchen table situated between them, Aisley faced him. Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes narrowed with temper.
“Aisley, do not be angry. There is no reason for it.”
“There is every reason. Do you, or do you not, confess that the troubles in your marriages were a result of your doing?”
“I do not deny my errors as a husband, but my wives were chosen by the necessities of an earldom and were not meant for me.”
She stared at him for a moment, and then lowered her lashes, attempting to hide her brown eyes. “I still do not understand why you’d want me for your next wife. There must be others more suitable for you.”
“It is you that I want, nonetheless.” Garrick scented her sudden fear and fought his need to take her back into his arms. All he had to do was leap and he’d catch her
Turning away, she began searching the supplies arranged on a shelf behind her. She grasped a small piece of cloth and took it with her behind the privacy screen. He chose not to follow and granted her a semblance of distance.
Watching her hide behind the screen, he waited as she knelt on the floor and mopped the water spilt there. He hated seeing her in such a subservient position.
“Aisley, do not hide. Talk to me.”
“I’m not hiding. I’m cleaning this mess. I would like to see Angelica on the morrow. I’ll understand if you refuse. Good eve to you, milord,” she said, barely raising her chin.
Garrick clenched his fists. “I’ll not be sent away like some common servant. I am to be your husband. Rise, face me and request privacy if you wish it.”
Behind the screen, she slowly rose, attempting to look brave. He doubted she knew how easily he sensed her pending tears. “Please, I’d like you to go.”
“Very well.” Garrick walked to the door. “Pack whatever you need tonight and be ready for my men by morning. They will come and escort you to the manor.”
Before he reached the door, Aisley shouted, “Wait, milord!”
“You have an objection?” he asked.
Aisley flew around the screen and stormed toward him. “I cannot live at the manor house. It would be wrong. I don’t wish to marry you and I’ll not be your leman.”
Seizing the opportunity, Garrick grasped her elbow and pulled her into his arms. “My decision is final. We will be betrothed by the morrow’s sunset. My brothers have been detained, giving me time to persuade you to accept what fate has already chosen for you. You are to be mine, Aisley. When my brothers arrive in Danford, our banns will be read and we’ll marry according to the laws of the Church and English tradition.”
“I’ll not go to the manor house. Valiant’s mother has yet to arrive.”
“You needn’t worry. The matter has been addressed.” Knowing Catarina had arrived in Danford, he bent closer and kissed Aisley’s forehead. “I shall miss you until I see you next, little one. Get your rest. Mayhap you would consider taking a walk with me through the garden after you’ve settled into the manor?”
He kissed her lips before she could refuse and lingered for as long as he dared. Sooner than he wanted, she shook her head back and forth, resisting further kisses.
Lifting his head, he withdrew and left her standing in the doorway, heading for the woods. When he was certain it was safe, he stripped and gave into the leopard’s instincts as he bolted into the dense forest.
Chapter Six
“Lord Danford, I bring troublesome news,” Sir Brandon Mathews announced, striding into the room.
“Aisley wasn’t waiting for you in her cottage,” Garrick said to his retainer. Looking out the window, he’d already begun seeking her scent. It was weak but he was certain he could catch her before sunset.
Sir Brandon entered the solar and closed the door, walking across the room on quiet, booted feet. “I’m not surprised you’d know,” he said. “She took nothing with her, milord. She must have left on foot.”
Suspecting that Aisley might leave, Garrick had remained in leopard form and watched her cottage throughout the night. Before dawn, he’d been forced to return to the manor. He hadn’t wanted a villager to see the leopard. He could have changed back at any time, but he worried about her reputation if someone were to find him near her home.
He’d taken the risk to return to the manor and she’d flown. As angry as he was with her, he had to calm his temper. Aisley was scared and he’d done little thus far to ease her simplest concerns. She also didn’t know the dangers that could await her beyond the protection of his name and his holdings. It was a mistake he would rectify by any means necessary.
Once he had her back in Danford, he would persuade her to accept being his mate. But first he would give chase and catch her. When he did, he would not give her the chance to flee again.
“Garrick, have you been listening?”
Inhaling the lingering scent of almonds, Garrick inclined his head and turned to face his retainer. “Aye, I have.”
“I’ve arranged a search, milord. She couldn’t have gotten far on foot. Have you any suggestions on where the men should look?”
Garrick nodded. “Send men to Prescott Abbey.” Even as he spoke, he knew Aisley would not have gone to the abbey. His plan to send the men would keep them busy while he used his most trusted guards to aid him in his search.
“If she needed to attend church, why not visit your chapel?”
“Her parents are buried in the abbey’s cemetery. She visits often.”
Brandon nodded and made to leave. Hesitating at the door, he looked back. “Might I ask her father’s surname? It may help when the men speak to the abbot.”
“Reeves,” Garrick said, waiting for his friend’s reaction.
“Aisley is Archer Reeves’ daughter?” Brandon questioned. “Then she knows about you, about the Abcynians.”
“She does not know what I am.”
Brandon frowned, keeping still as he thought over what he’d learned. “It seems strange that I knew Archer’s wife, Heather, had born him a babe, but was unaware of the child’s name. Have the wars with France and the plague kept us away for so long that I failed a Guard in some way? Archer was an ally. You trusted him because of me and this is the result. It doesn’t seem right, milord.”
Sir Brandon Mathews was p
art of a small group of humans trusted to guard the ancient truths of Abcynian kind. Garrick understood his disappointment in learning another Guard had kept a secret from him.
“Do not be angry with him. By keeping his daughter’s name from us, he likely hoped that we would not mistakenly reveal it to one of Zotikos’ spies. Because danger exists for the children of Abcynian Guards, the less Aisley knew, the better. A Saturian’s greatest trick is using those closest to Abcynians to do their work. Then they turn on the ones who aided them by giving them a traitor’s death.”
“Then Archer’s actions are understandable. He was protecting his daughter, even from us. Are you still planning to wed her?”
“Aisley is mine, Brandon. I must wed her and keep her secure. As a panthera Abcynian it is my duty and honor to watch over her. I’ve already sent missives to my brothers, the King and the Church that proclaim my intent to marry her. Now that word has gone out, I fear Zotikos may have learned I found my mate. I destroyed most of his family after he killed my father. He would like nothing more than to destroy the woman fated to be my mate. I cannot bear the thought of something happening to her because she’s scared.”
“It might be wise for you to convert her the moment you bring her back.”
“I may be compelled to force her hand in marriage to keep her safe, but conversion should be her choice.”
“Very well,” Brandon said. “Shall I have a horse saddled for you?”
“Aye, tell Lucien and Valiant to join us at the stables. We will leave as soon as the avener readies our mounts.”
“I am certain we will have no trouble finding her.”
“Let us hope we do before the day is done,” Garrick replied. He didn’t say that he would use every hunting skill he’d acquired to find her. He intended to be betrothed to Aisley by sunset.
* * * * *
Having made it to the village of Fernley, Aisley began to wonder if she’d been wrong to leave Danford. Sitting alone in a crowded tavern, she ate dark bread and porridge, worrying over whether Lord Danford was angry, if he would come after her.