The Taming of the Wolf (12 page)

Dash was relieved when they climbed back inside the coach after dinner. Neither Caitrin nor MacQuarrie said two words over the meal, and while he was comforted by the fact that the Scot hadn’t made any inroads, he hated to see his angel so unhappy.

Cait pulled the Macleod plaid over herself and curled up in a ball in one corner of the coach. Her sour-faced maid scowled at Dash as he took the spot beside Caitrin, and he returned the look.

He wasn’t certain why Cait insisted on traveling straight through the night. She acted almost as though demons were chasing her out of England. The most disheartening aspect of the situation was that their pace didn’t allow him the opportunity to seduce her. He had anticipated sneaking into her room each night as they traveled. Hell, he’d dreamt about it. And though Caitrin was within arm’s length of him in his coach, he had her inept maid to deal with.

How could he convince Caitrin to marry him if he wasn’t afforded the chance to slip between her sheets?

In no time, he found himself listening to Jeannie’s snores and Cait’s light sighs. His flaxen-haired angel truly appeared to have been sent from heaven, her rosebud lips so kissable and her soft lashes resting on her cheeks. He couldn’t have mistakenly claimed a more fitting mate. How lucky that her grim maid hadn’t been the one who’d crossed his path that night in the Duke of Blackmoor’s study.

Suddenly, Cait’s heart began to race and she jerked awake. She gasped for breath, and Dash hauled her to his lap. “It’s all right, angel. I’m here,” he soothed.

She clutched at his waistcoat and buried her face against his chest.

“Oh, Blaire,” she muttered miserably.

“Blaire?” he repeated. “The lass who makes all the men in Scotland look like weaklings?”

She nodded, soaking his shirt through with her tears.

“Caitie,” he said softly, stroking her back. “It was just a dream, angel.”

“No,” she sobbed. “Th-there was a monster.”

“Shh.” He held her close, ignoring the word “monster,” as he’d been called that more times than he cared to count. “Go back to sleep, Caitie. It’ll be all right.”

She straightened and looked him directly in the eyes. With the waning moon pouring in through the carriage’s small window, he couldn’t miss the intensity of her gaze.

“I ken ye doona believe me.”

“I believe you,” he tried to assure her. In the dark with his excellent vision, he could see the terror in her eyes and his heart lurched. He hated to see her so filled with dread.

“Try to sleep.”

Cait shook her head. “I doona want ta see those dead eyes again.”

“Dead eyes?”

“Aye. Black and dead,” she whispered. “I’m tellin’ ye, Dash, Blaire’s in danger. The creature that stalks her… Is
dead
.”

“Caitie, it’s just a dream.”

***

Cait wanted to believe that more than anything. But her visions had never been wrong. Her heart was racing as the disturbing images of her friend in grave danger settled into the darkness surrounding her. Getting to Blaire, warning her, was of the utmost importance. Thank heavens, they planned to drive straight through.

Cait closed her eyes tightly, wishing she recognized the forest in which she’d seen Blaire and the stalking monster. But she couldn’t place it. She was certain she’d never seen the place before. If she’d ever been there, she would have remembered the rugged terrain and thick woods.

Those thoughts vanished as Dash’s warm hand stroked circles on her back in an apparent attempt to comfort her. And at that moment she wanted his comfort desperately, more than reason.

Without giving the consequences of her actions any thought, Cait leaned forward in the dark and pressed her lips to his.

A startled breath escaped Dash, but he quickly recovered, grasping her to him as though he was a doomed man and she was his salvation. Dash’s mouth roamed over hers just as his strong hands cupped her bottom and settled her more firmly in his lap.

He moaned against her lips, urging her to open for him.

His warm tongue swept inside her mouth, touching hers, and Cait couldn’t get close enough to him. She cupped his jaw and reveled in the taste of him. Everywhere he touched her, she came alive, wanting more and more of him with each movement of his hands on her body.

“God, Caitie,” he rasped as he pulled his lips from hers and rested his forehead against her own. “You’ll undo me right here.”

Across the carriage, a loud snore from Jeannie reminded her that they weren’t alone. Cait reared back quickly, startled at her own wanton behavior. “I-I doona ken what came over me,” she tried to apologize.

Dash pulled her closer to him and draped her plaid back across her legs. “I don’t mind, lass. I’d just rather not have an audience.”

Cait hid her face against his chest, glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the blush she felt on her cheeks.

“Soon,” he promised beside her ear, sending a fresh wave of chills across her skin.

She gulped, unsure what to say. She should correct his assumption, but she didn’t have the heart to do so. Again, his hands caressed her back, and she started to relax.

“Try to sleep, angel.”

But she didn’t want to sleep. She didn’t want to see the dead creature again. She didn’t want to watch it hunt Blaire. Cait shook her head. Getting a clearer picture of Dashiel Thorpe would keep her mind occupied. She searched for something to say and then remembered his odd expression from earlier when he spoke about his home.

“Why have ye no’ visited Kent in years, Dash?”

He stilled. “More questions?” he asked softly. “Aren’t you tired?”

Cait shrugged. “I’m curious.”

“The marquess and I do not enjoy each other’s company. It’s better this way.”

His father, who wasn’t really his father. “Are ye curious ta find yer real father?”

Dash sighed. “I haven’t given it much thought. I don’t think it’s possible to find him.”

“Major Forster could help ye,” she suggested. “Yer society has records. He might have a suggestion of how ta go on.”

“To what end?” he asked.

“So ye can find out who ye are? Where ye came from?”

***

Dash very nearly pushed her from his lap. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to be far, far away from her questions and the unwanted thoughts they brought with them. But she cupped his cheek in her hand and looked into his eyes, silently refusing to let him pull away.

“I know where I came from,” he growled.

But she wasn’t intimidated by his blustering. “Where?” she asked quietly, as she relaxed and laid her head over his heart. “Where did ye come from?”

“I came from a whore who gave herself up to a beast,” he said bluntly and then swiped his hand across his face in frustration. She raised her head to look at him. So, this was what guilt felt like? “I’m sorry, Caitie. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Perhaps ye came from love,” she said quietly as a soft smile tipped the corners of her lips.

“Love?” he echoed. He must have misheard her.

“Aye, maybe yer mother loved yer father. And ye are the product of that love.”

“Fanciful tales of love and life race through your mind when you think about
my
situation? I’d never have taken you for a romantic, angel.”

She nudged him in the belly with her elbow. “I believe in love,” she said quietly as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

Dash nearly melted with that touch, so caring and offered so selflessly. “Caitie,” he groaned as he tugged her hand down and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“Dashiel,” she groaned back, mocking his tone.

“You’re one of a kind, aren’t you?” he asked absently as he adjusted his body in the seat so that she lay across him. Then he covered them both with her plaid.

“Oh, my father certainly hopes so,” she laughed, squirming in his lap for comfort.

She shifted across his groin and he laid his head back, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. “Would you be still?” He sighed.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Ye can put me down.”

“I like to hold you,” he admitted, smoothing a hand down her back. He’d like to do a lot more than that, but telling her that would get him kicked back out of the carriage.

“If Jeannie wakes up, she’ll be scandalized.”

“Even your maid can’t keep me from holding you,” he insisted. “I promise my intentions are honorable.” Mostly, anyway.

Cait sat up and looked into his eyes. “All of them?”

Her scent swirled around him, and Dash fought his basic instinct to growl aloud. “Not when you look at me like that, no.” He patted his chest and encouraged her to lie back down. If she glanced at him one more time like that with her lips parted, he would have to put them to good use.

She sighed as she laid her head back down on his chest. “If ye could have one thing, something that ye wanted above all others, what would it be?”

“You,” he said quickly, without even thinking.

“I am no’ part of yer future,” she said as she nudged him.

“You keep saying that. But I happen to know differently.”

“Stubborn lout.”

“Obstinate witch.”

“Ye have no idea,” she whispered.

Caitrin wasn’t sure when it happened, but she woke during the night to find the bed beneath her moving. She grasped for the side of the mattress and jumped when someone’s fingers threaded through hers.

“Shhh…” she heard him whisper by her ear. She raised her head to look into Dash’s heavily lidded eyes. “If you make noise, you’ll wake up the guard,” he laughed and nodded toward Jeannie, who slept heavily on the other side of the coach.

“I forgot where I was for a moment,” she murmured as she inhaled deeply, his warm citrus scent engulfing her.

“I didn’t.”

She felt his lips as they touched the top of her head. “So tender,” she murmured.

“That’s a sentiment that has never been used to describe me before.” He chuckled lightly.

The sound of raindrops slowly hitting the top of the carriage drew her attention. “Lovely. And I had planned ta push ye out the door at sun-up so ye could enjoy the weather.”

The pitter-patter of rain soon became the steady drumming of a heavy downpour, making his soft comments more difficult to hear.

“That’s very amicable of you,” he said crisply as he made a poor attempt to look fierce. “I suffer all night with your bottom in my lap, and you want to push me back out into the cold? Do you have a heart in there somewhere?” He playfully tugged at the collar of her gown, as though looking for a hidden place where kindness and caring might dwell.

He stopped tugging when he’d bared her neck and the top of her shoulder where his mark was located. She self-consciously covered it with her hand.

“Does it still hurt?”

She simply shook her head.

“You’re wearing my mark. Do you dislike it?”

“No.” And strangely, she meant it.

He tugged her hand from where it rested on top of it and very gently pressed his lips there. A shiver moved through her body. A most delicious shiver.

His lips made a fiery path up the side of her neck, his fingers gently pushing the strands of hair away.

“But if ye bite me again, I
will
put ye back out in the rain.”

Then his teeth gently abraded the side of her neck. Her belly flipped. The hair on her arms stood up. How did he do this to her? She glanced over at Jeannie, who still slept soundly.

He adjusted Cait so that her back was to the woman, her plaid still covering them both. “I’ll tell you if she wakes.”

Her head lay on his shoulder, so he had to do no more than tip her chin to kiss her. Cait didn’t even think of resisting. She let him coax her mouth open and then received him as greedily as he wanted to take her.

The heat of his hand seeped through her gown when it landed at her waist. His thumb drew lazy circles as his hand crept slowly up toward her breast, which was suddenly heavy and aching. But he was the balm for her pain when he finally cupped her in his hand.

Cait pulled her lips from his when he swiped his thumb across her nipple, the gentle stroke touching somewhere deep within her, a place she hadn’t known existed.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly.

She took his hand in hers and pressed it more firmly to her breast.

***

There was her answer. The beast inside Dash rejoiced. His bold little angel liked the pleasure he brought her. When she tucked her head beneath his chin and began to make little mewling noises, it was all Dash could do not to howl to the heavens.

He forced himself not to grind his erection into the side of her thigh where it rested across his lap. But it was difficult. He was fully aware that their little game would have to stop in a moment or he would be too far gone to care whether or not her maid slept across the coach from them.

He glanced over at Jeannie, whose jaw was still slack with slumber, the heavy weight of her breaths easy to hear with his Lycan ears.

Cait began to fidget in his lap, her heart beating a frantic rhythm as he toyed with her.

“Dash,” she moaned quietly.

“Yes, angel?”

“What are ye doing ta me?” She raised her chin and kissed his bristly jaw. Her words washed over him like the sweet melody of wind chimes.

“I think I’m bringing you pleasure,” he laughed. “If not, then I’m doing it all wrong.”

“No,” she gasped as he lightly pinched the tip of her breast with his finger and thumb. “Ye ken ye are no’ doin’ it wrong.”

“Hmm,” he agreed. “Your body tells me I’m doing it right.”

She nodded, pressing her face into him to cover her embarrassment.

“I can tell how much you want me,” he admitted. “It’s in the pounding of your heart, and your honeysuckle scent is even more intoxicating when your body warms with desire.”

His hand crept down and began to gather her traveling gown, raising it inch by glorious inch. When he had it up to her knees, he readjusted the plaid over her, craving what lay beneath like nothing else in the world.

Cait didn’t protest when his hand trailed up her stockings or when his fingers walked past her garters. But just as he was about to touch her heat, which called to the beast inside him like nothing ever had before, her maid shifted in her seat. Dash closed his eyes and stilled his body, feigning sleep and swallowing an irritated growl.

He could almost feel the maid’s disapproval as she looked over at them. In truth, the way he held Cait was highly inappropriate, despite the fact that the casual observer could never tell he had his hand beneath her skirts.

The maid snuffed and rolled the other way, making herself more comfortable. She closed her eyes and was back asleep in moments.

Dash tugged the hem of Cait’s dress back down. He wanted to slap his own fingers for being so bold as to touch her in a coach when they weren’t alone. A wild Lycan. That’s all he was and all he’d ever be. He’d never, ever be good enough for the likes of Caitrin Macleod.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Doona be,” she said as she closed her hand around his and brought it to her lips, where she pressed a quick kiss to the palm of his hand. He felt the curve of her smile against his skin.

She had no idea what her gentle touches did to him, and she’d probably be terrified if she knew how base his instincts really were. How could he ask her to accept him when he barely had any control of himself?

Niall Forster. The name echoed in Dash’s ears. If he had any hope of winning Cait, of being worthy of her, he had to get to Mr. Forster sooner rather than later. There was no other way for Dash to keep her safe from the beast inside him. He needed to learn to control it. He needed Cait.

***

Cait eagerly stepped from the coach when they stopped to change horses in Newcastle upon Tyne. Her legs were stiff and her back ached. She knew she should wake Dash. With his long legs, he had to ache worse than she did. But her mind was in such a jumble; she needed just a little time to herself.

When Alec MacQuarrie stepped in front of her, his dark eyes filled with fury, Cait instantly regretted not waking Dash from his slumber. “Do you care to tell me just why we’re moving at this pace? My coachman nearly fell asleep on the road, Caitrin.”

She tipped her nose in the air, leveling him with her haughtiest look. “Well, I dinna ask ya ta follow me. By all means, rest a while here and then return ta yer friends in Leeds.”

He stepped forward and took her elbow in his hands. “And leave you with Brimsworth? You’d have ta put a ball in my chest first.”

“Doona tempt me,” she grumbled.

“What are you thinking, Cait? The man shouldn’t ride in such close quarters with you, as you well know.” He frowned at her, making her feel like an unruly child.

“And ye shouldna manhandle me,” she returned, wrenching her arm from his grasp. Then she started off toward the Tyne, ignoring the way the wind whipped at her skirts.

“Cait,” he called, chasing after her. “Wait.”

But she refused to stop.

“At least take your plaid,” he yelled.

Which, truly, she should have done. It was freezing, but she wouldn’t look back at him. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Blast Alec MacQuarrie! The sooner he gave up this foolish pursuit of her, the better it would be for all involved.

Cait folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her hands up and down, trying to warm herself. She paid no attention to the men milling about the coaching yard as she stomped past them, down a little path to the river. She supposed it was good to have fresh air, though it would be nice if it was a bit warmer.

She stopped at the water’s edge and looked across at the village. From her spot, she could see a bridge spanning the river and a sizable castle resting atop a hill.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she shivered.

“At this pace,” Dash’s voice came from behind her, “you should be in Edinburgh tomorrow.” She spun around to find him holding out her plaid, which she readily accepted and wrapped around her arms.

She nodded quickly. The sooner she was home the better.

“I opened my eyes and you were gone,” he informed her, his eyes boring into her as though he was searching for something.

“I dinna want ta wake ye, since ye were sleepin’ so peacefully.”

“Just resting my eyes. I can only take so much in the way of the caustic looks your maid sends me.”

“She means well.”

The wind tossed his golden hair, and his amber gaze warmed her from the inside out as she remembered the intensity of his kiss and the feel of his hands on her breast. Cait had to look away to keep from blushing under his stare. Her eyes landed again on the castle across the Tyne, and she wished that they could reach Edinburgh even sooner.

Dash’s hands stole around her waist, and he held her from behind. “Something about the castle has your attention?”

She shouldn’t smile. She shouldn’t let him hold her like this, but it felt so nice, so comforting. “Have ye ever been ta Edinburgh?”

“No.” His warm breath heated her cheek right before he kissed it.

Cait closed her eyes, loving the feel of him holding her as his citric scent enveloped her senses. “Ye’ll have ta visit Edinburgh Castle. It puts yer Sassenach imitations ta shame.”

He chuckled, holding her tighter. “My proud little Scottish angel.”

She liked the way he said that. She liked the way it made her belly flutter, though she knew in her heart that she shouldn’t.

“But, Caitie,” he continued softly, “Edinburgh is not my destination.”

Cait’s heart plummeted with those words. She had been playing with fire, and, just like always, she was the one who would be burned by her foolishness. Of course, Dashiel Thorpe was moving on to whatever he was destined to do, and she’d once again be left behind.

She hadn’t even meant for it to happen. She’d tried to be smart where he was concerned. Kept him at arm’s length, fed him a sleeping draught, and bolted from him in the dead of night. But still, he’d managed to worm his way into her heart only to dash her desire with icy water that might as well have come from the Tyne.

None of it was fair. Wasn’t she entitled to some happiness? Since when did fair have anything to do with life? Cait stepped from the comfort of his arms and pulled her plaid tighter around her shoulders.

“Brimsworth!” Alec called from the distance, and Cait groaned. Must she deal with him now too?

Dash stepped away from her and turned his attention to the irritating interloper. “Ah, MacQuarrie.”

Alec scowled at the earl. “I wanted to invite you to ride with me today.”

Cait resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Civility was most assuredly not Alec’s goal. With a charming smile, Dash tipped his head in acceptance.

“How generous, MacQuarrie. I’d be honored to share your conveyance today. However, I must decline.”

“Of course you must,” Alec grunted.