A Certain Wolfish Charm(65)

"Believe me, love, when we return to Westfield Hall, Dorn and I will have a long chat. In the man's defense, he had no reason to think Oliver would bolt."



She sniffed and turned her attention to stare out the window.



"With luck, we'll find him before he even reaches Essex," Simon reminded her. Then she would have Oliver back clinging to her skirts, which was exactly where he wanted to be, except he preferred to be under them.



"I just don't understand why he thinks so poorly of you. Is there something I don't understand? Did you hurt him in the breakfast room the other day? Or in one of your heated exchanges?"



Not in the slightest. Oliver was just as tough as any other Lycan. The boy wasn't even afraid of him.



Simon frowned. He didn't need Lily to distrust him. "If anyone should be angry, Lily, it's me," he said, changing tactics.



She gasped and swung her gaze to him. "And what reason, please tell me, could you possibly have for being angry?"



"Don't you think the fact that my wife is sitting as far from me as she possibly can is enough? I hadn't planned to spend my wedding night in exile. I had planned to spend it wrapped up… in… you."



She flushed at his comment, just as he'd hoped. Having her once wasn't nearly enough.



Yet she still put her nose in the air and turned back to the window. If that pup ruined his chances of staying in Lily's good graces, he would make him sleep with the hounds.



***





Lily watched the Hampshire countryside pass by her window. With the way Simon was looking at her, it was really quite difficult to stay angry with him. He settled deeper into his seat and looked at her, his eyes half-closed. Lily's heart jumped when he licked his lips.

"Come here," he said quietly.



Oh, dear.



"No," she answered, fully aware that her voice cracked. She hated her traitorous reflexes for responding to him.



"I didn't ask you." He crooked a finger at her. "Come here."



With a conscious effort, she turned to look out the window again. But then she felt the brush of his hand against the side of her breast. She closed her eyes and sighed, unable to deny how pleasurable the sensation was.



"Your body wants me," he taunted her.



"Well, of course it does," she sighed.



"Yet you want to deny it."



"Yes, I do." She very nearly caught a smile erupting. But pushed it back.



"I think I'll let you sit there and simmer," he said as he placed his hands in his lap.



She immediately felt the loss. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why would you do that?"



"Because I'm going to wait. Until you ask me for it." He smiled a greedy little smile. "Or until we reach the next coaching inn. Whichever comes first."#p#分页标题#e#





Twenty-Nine





Lily could barely wait for the next coaching inn. She felt like a violin that had been strung too tightly. She had been worried that Oliver was in danger nearly the entire day. But now she was worried that she would simply erupt if Simon didn't touch her some time soon. When he'd said "come here," she'd nearly climbed into his lap and begged him to take her.



But she wasn't willing to concede quite so quickly. She wanted to know what he was hiding from her. Something was going on between him and Oliver. She knew it.



When they finally stopped, Simon jumped from the coach and held out his hand to her. He showed an abnormal level of detachment when he simply took her hand in his, rather than taking her hand and caressing it or teasing her unmercifully as she'd become accustomed.



"Something bothering you?" she asked him as they stepped toward the inn. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for keeping her in the dark.



He simply smiled politely. "Not a thing. You?" He didn't allow his gaze to stroll up and down her body. Nor did he stroke her with the timbre of his voice, the way he normally did. He put a hand at her back to guide her through the door. But that was where his familiarity ended.



As soon as they turned the corner into the taproom, Lily heard the squeal. It was an unexpected noise, the noise of a child opening presents on her birthday. Yet it came from a woman who was obviously more than a child. Flaxen curls framed her lovely face. Cherubic cheeks rested under the bluest eyes Lily had even seen. The woman was curvy and wore a sinful smile.



Simon stepped away from Lily and toward the woman, who raised her hand to place it in his. He smoothly lifted it to his lips. Lily could not believe he actually kissed that woman's skin.



She fought the red haze that clouded her vision. She stepped closer to Simon and touched his arm. "Introduce me to your friend, dear," she said, smiling sweetly, though anger rolled through her in waves.