A Night of Forever (5 page)

Aidan shoved his knee into the dog’s sternum. The
crack of ribs was barely audible over the cry of the animal. But
Aidan had little time to savor his victory, he was too bloody
focused on the daft woman he was infatuated with. Instead of
running toward the house as he’d told her, Mary Ellen ran toward
them. Disconcerted Aidan didn’t see the dog’s teeth coming. They
sliced through his jacket, shirtsleeves and skin with ease, leaving
behind a stinging numbness.

“Shite,” he snapped, pushing himself to his knees.
He could feel the warm blood soaking his sleeve, trailing down his
arm and dripping from his fingertips. He jerked his sleeve down,
hiding the gaping wound but the blood soaked through the white
material. Thank God he wasn’t human.

Seeing the blood, Mary Ellen stumbled to a halt,
stick in hand. “You’re bleeding!”

He would heal, and much faster than a human but he
couldn’t tell her that. “If you’re going to help, then help!”

She blinked, coming to her senses and shifted her
gaze to the dog. Her eyes widened, that pulse in her neck jumped to
life. But she didn’t waver this time. Instead, she swung the stick
forward and whacked the wolf upon his large head. The stick bounced
back, sending Mary Ellen stumbling a couple of steps. The dog
yelped and shook its muzzle, trying to rid the dazed feel. But it
wasn’t the hit to his massive skull, no…it was the broken ribs that
finally did the dog in. The animal stumbled to his feet and wobbled
off, disappearing into the woods, beaten, defeated.

What the hell was a wolf doing here? As much as he’d
like to go after the animal and make sure it never returned, never
tried to hurt Mary Ellen again, he knew he couldn’t. The beast was
returning to its den and would have friends. So instead he let the
animal go, and he fell back to the ground, staring up at the gray
sky. If the dogs had taken over Grayson’s land, his friend would
have a fight on his hands.

“What was that?” Mary Ellen whispered, hovering over
him.

He had to resist the urge to latch onto her skirt
and jerk her down closer to him. He wanted to breathe in her scent,
to forget the smell of dog and blood. He wanted to make sure she
was well and kiss her so thoroughly that she would forget the
animal. “A wolf.”

She frowned and tossed the stick aside. She was
panting, her hair had fallen in molten waves down around her
shoulders, and there was a tear in the hem of her gown. “There are
no wolves in England.”

Hell. He resisted the urge to grin. She was no
stupid miss. She might like the finer things in life, she might
take pains to keep her clothing clean and speak softly when in
public, but here, now, with her hair down around her shoulders, and
her skirts twisted and torn around her ankles, she was a warrior
goddess. He didn’t know what to say, and so he did the only thing
he could…the only thing he wanted to do…he closed his eyes.

“Aidan?”

He didn’t respond.

“Will the wolf return? Should we be worried?”

No, he wouldn’t return, but still he didn’t respond.
There was the softest rustle of skirts as she knelt beside him, her
scent whispering toward him on the cool air. “Aidan, do answer me.
I’m rather nervous.”

He peeked between his lashes. She was close, so very
close.

“Come nearer,” he whispered.

“Oh dear,” she gasped, worried. “Shall I race after
Grayson? Tell me what to do!”

“Kiss me.”

She frowned. “What? Aidan, do be serious! You’re
injured. We really should—”

He didn’t give her time to reject his command but
reached up, cupped the back of her head and drew her down. Her
delicate hands pressed to his chest, bracing her fall. Aidan caught
her gasp of surprise but didn’t relent. God, she tasted good… like
strawberries and sherry. With a groan, she sank into his body, a
welcoming softness and heat. His tongue delved between her lips,
deepening the kiss in a primal way. With her soft body pressed to
his, he could no longer control his lust. Heat surged through him,
pounded in his veins demanding more…more…all of her.

He growled low in his throat as he rolled over,
pressing her into the ground and covering her with his body. He
could take her here now, in the clearing. So many chances to have
her fully, to mark her, to make her his. And if the beast took
control, than he would consume her, take her innocence, destroy
her. He froze, his forehead pressed to hers, their harsh breaths
mingling. He couldn’t do that to her.

Dredging up what little self-control he retained,
Aidan tore himself from Mary Ellen and jumped to his feet. Without
waiting, without helping her stand, he started toward the house,
leaving her upon the ground with her skirts twisted around her
lovely legs. He had to get away, as far away from her as possible.
Tomorrow after the party, whether his cottage was ready or not, he
would leave.

“Aidan?” He could hear the rustle of her skirts as
she managed to regain her feet. He knew she was confused, angry,
aching. He knew because his feelings mirrored hers. “Aidan!”

“It would be best if you returned home.” He paused
only a moment, but didn’t dare look back. “I’ll speak to Grayson
about the attack.”

Quick footsteps pattered toward him. “Aidan, you
will merely dismiss what has just happened?”

“What?” He started forward, finding the trail and
heading back toward the estate. “The attack? Or the kiss?”

“The attack!” She caught up to him, her skirts
improperly hiked up around her calves, showing white stockings
smudged with dirt. “The kiss was…a lapse in good judgment.”

He slid her a glance. “Twice?”

“I was frightened, and lost control of my
senses!”

It was a silly excuse, but at least she had one. He
had nothing other than he wanted her…badly. They reached the back
gardens, the house in view. “You’re right. It was a lapse in good
judgment, and it won’t happen again.”

His dismissive tone had upset her. He ignored the
hurt in her eyes, he had to for his own sanity.

“Good.” As she lifted her skirts and raced toward
the house, he didn’t stop her.

He didn’t have the time nor the strength to divulge
in an affair. He had more important things to worry about…like how
Grayson was going to react when he realized there was a werewolf on
his property.

“Do you believe in ghosts, Miss James?”

Startled, Mary Ellen spun around, her mask tilting
precariously with the movement. “How did you recognize me?” As she
straightened her mask of lavender silk, she realized what a silly
question she’d asked, considering she was one of only two people in
attendance with red hair. The other guest was forty and male.

Aidan shrugged. It
was
Aidan. Although he
wore a simple black suit and a simple black mask, his overly long
hair pulled back with a queue, she knew his voice. Simply dressed,
yet she couldn’t deny there was an elegant ease about him. More
than one woman had looked his way when he’d entered the ballroom an
hour ago.

“Well?” she asked. “How did you recognize me?”

She hadn’t seen him since yesterday’s attack. The
man hadn’t even bothered to check on her, hadn’t even sent word
asking about her welfare. And now he had the audacity to approach
her?

“I know it’s you because of your walk. Your…”

She waited for one breathless moment, then,
forgetting her good sense, prompted. “Yes?”

“Your scent.”

Heat shot through her body, curling down to her
toes. She glanced around the large ballroom hoping no one noticed
her blush, and wondered how the conversation could so quickly have
taken a turn for the inappropriate. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She was annoyed. Annoyed that he could make her feel
such sinful emotions. Annoyed that other woman found him so bloody
attractive. Annoyed that while he hadn’t been the least bit worried
about her, she had spent a restless night worrying about his
injury.

He wasn’t smiling, but his face was completely
serious, as usual. Half-hidden in an alcove with windows that
overlooked the back garden, she felt somewhat safe from prying
eyes. But she certainly wasn’t safe from the man.

She studied the polished floorboards. “Are you
saying, Mr. Callaghan, that I smell quite badly?”

He leaned against the wall, which brought him closer
to her. “The opposite, in fact.”

No other explanation. He remained stubbornly silent,
watchful. The man left her feeling quite odd. Time actually seemed
to stand still when he was near, which was utterly ridiculous.
There, in that alcove, hidden by red, velvet curtains, it almost
felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower to her
neck, even lower still. Did he think of their kisses as she did
every minute of every hour? How she wished she’d taken Meg’s advice
and worn the neckline of her lavender silk gown a little higher.
She might not feel quite so naked.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, meeting
her gaze once again.

“What question?” Lord, she was confused. She
couldn’t think when he looked at her with such heat in his eyes. He
wanted her. She knew the look of attraction. Had seen the same
heated gaze in the lads about town. The difference was that their
passionate glances hadn’t stirred her blood.
She
hadn’t
wanted
them.

“Ghosts, do you believe, as the ancient Celts did,
that the world between the living and dead is thin this time of
year? That spirits can come and go as they please?”

“Nonsense,” she whispered. And it was nonsense, so
why did a shiver of unease caress her skin?

He reached out and drew his fingers down her bare
arm. “You’re chilled.

“Your hands are cold.”

He gave her a tight smile and pulled back. “Yes. The
autumn air.” He looked away as if avoiding her gaze, when he’d
sought her out. How very strange he acted at times. Bemused, she
glanced toward the floor where couples danced in brilliant gowns,
their faces covered with masks that in reality did little to hide
their identity. Why must he be so bloody mysterious? If she wanted
a mystery, she’d read a gothic novel, for heaven’s sake.

“Your injury?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Fine. Looked much worse than it was.” He stepped
back, as if putting distance between them. “There is no need to
worry, Grayson has set up guards around the perimeter.”

“I wasn’t worried about that, I was worried about…”
She couldn’t very well tell him the truth, even though she had a
terrible, awful feeling he knew. She was worried about him.
Him.
“I believe Meg is looking for me.”

Aidan smiled, a smile that said he didn’t believe
her in the least. Still, she didn’t care what he thought. At least
that’s what she told herself as she dropped into a quick curtsey
and left him. Skirting around a large vase of roses, Mary Ellen
hastened her steps. How dare he be so bold. Telling her she
smelled. Touching her that way. Worst of all, how dare she enjoy
their conversation! Overcome, she paused and closed her eyes,
resting her hand on her arm where he’d touched her. She swore she
could still feel the pressure of his fingers. She would
not
care. She wouldn’t. After all, he hadn’t bloody well cared enough
to worry about her, so why should she care about him?

“Mary Ellen,” Meg called out, waddling toward her.
“Beth has arrived!”

“Meg,” Mary Ellen took her hand, relieved to see her
sister. “Everyone will know who I am if you go around shouting my
name.”

Meg laughed, a merry sound that had more than one
man looking her way, even though she was a good seven months with
child. The blue mask of peacock feathers did little to hide Meg’s
beauty and her dark hair shimmered against the green dress she
wore. “Darling, your red hair is like a bloody beacon. Everyone
knows you already. I’m afraid there’s no hiding.”

Mary Ellen sighed, realizing Meg was right. “What is
it you need?”

“Beth has arrived, and I’m eager to catch up with
her without being interrupted. I’m headed upstairs. I know it’s not
right for me to retire before the guests do, but I also wanted to
check on Hanna and Sally.” She stepped closer and lowered her
voice. “Besides my feet are bloody murdering me.”

“I understand.” Mary Ellen didn’t dare complain,
although she would feel her sister’s absence. She didn’t want to be
left alone with guests more intent on making mischief than being
polite. In London, no doubt, she would never have to deal with men
who liked to grope, who drank to excess. If she told Grayson she’d
felt more than one man’s paw upon her bottom, he would bloody kill
the persons responsible, but she wouldn’t ruin Meg’s party.

“Aidan,” Meg called out, waving him over.

Mary Ellen stiffened. How had she not known he was
behind her? Her fingers curled into her silk skirts as she resisted
the urge to flee. Hell, she knew exactly what Meg would ask
him.

“You’ll look after Mary Ellen, won’t you?”

He paused beside her and only then did she dare to
glance at him. He was smiling, a completely mischievous looking
smile that she’d never seen on him before. It worried her, that
smile.

“Of course. I shall look after her as if she’s my
very own.”

A small line formed between Meg’s brows. She wasn’t
the only one to find his comment odd, wondering if there was a
hidden meaning. But of course Meg ignored her instincts because he
was a friend of Grayson’s.

“Good.” Meg glanced at Mary Ellen one last time,
hesitating, then turned and made her way toward the foyer.

Although they were in a crowded ballroom, Mary Ellen
felt completely alone with the man. The thought of Aidan hovering
over her for the entire night sent icy panic through her veins.
After yet another restless night, she had decided the best thing
would be to stay as far away from him as possible. If he wasn’t
near, she wouldn’t experience those unsettling feelings. But here
he was, like always, completely destroying her plan.