Breakfast

*Nick*

As I toss back my scotch, I consider stripping down to my trousers and racing barefoot over hill and dale, taking a plunge into an icy river, and finding a wild wolf or hog to wrestle. I take small comfort in the fact that she is not immune to my charms, that she does desire me, otherwise she wouldn’t be so wary regarding where my kiss might lead.

Straight to her bed if I had my way with it.

The odd thing is, I understand her reluctance, and have no wish to be a substitute for my brother. I want her feelings to be for me, separate from what she has felt for Noah. I don’t expect them to ever be as strong or as large in scope, but I do want to be the one in possession of them.

I can honestly admit that I have never felt for any woman what I feel for her. It bloody well terrifies me, and yet walking away is not even a consideration. Her company from a distance is better than not having her company at all.

Patience has never been my strong suit, but for her, I will bide my time. For her, I will have unique musical boxes crafted. For her, I will drink less. For her, I will give whatever is within me to give.

For her, I will toss and turn a good bit of the night, and wake up in a foul mood that requires a cup of coffee stronger than my usual. I have taken one sip that nearly blistered the roof of my mouth when she strolls into the breakfast dining room, wearing a black dress that is made of too much material and far too many buttons. She is done up tight, but still a sense of welcome relief washes through me. I shoot to my feet. “Good morning. Is something amiss?”

She smiles sweetly. “I decided it was silly of me to eat alone when I could enjoy breakfast in your company. If you don’t mind if I join you, that is. I suppose I should have asked first. Perhaps you prefer to begin your day in solitude.”

The way she is prattling on, I wonder if she is nervous, fearful that I may not welcome her presence. She can join me in my bath if she wants. “I have never much cared for solitude. By all means, please join me.”

She wanders over to the sideboard, makes her selections, and takes her place at the foot of the table. Smart girl. If she sits within reach, I would touch her. I wouldn't be able to help myself. Just gliding a finger over her hand, her cheek would suffice to lessen my need to possess her.

Fool, nothing is going to lessen that.

Resisting the urge to pick up my plate and move nearer to her, I drop into my chair, sip my coffee, aware that it is now too strong, as my mood has improved considerably.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask.

“Not really. You?”

“Horribly.”

She bestows upon me a gamine smile. “Why does that please me, I wonder?”

“Because you’re a little witch, and you know you are the cause for my restless night.”

“I would not presume”

My laughter quiets her. “You deny me a kiss and you don’t think you’re responsible?”

She glances around as though hoping the servants have all suddenly gone deaf. I wish I could make her completely comfortable discussing our passionate natures. Then the full weight of her blue gaze falls on me. “Would a kiss have made it better?”

I release a deep sigh. “No. I suspect it would have made it all the worse, but a small price to pay for the flavor of your lips upon my tongue.”

Even at this distance, I can see the deep crimson blush creeping up her face. I rather imagine that it begins at her toes. I would like to kiss those toes, the arch of her foot, her ankles, and journey all the way up to the heaven between her thighs.

She looks past me to the windows. “It looks like it’s going to be a lovely day outside.”

Her change of topic is no doubt intended to take my thoughts off our wayward path… although that isn’t likely to happen. Still, no harm in allowing her to believe I am easily distracted. “I was going to ride into the village today. I wanted to check on the health of Mrs. Larking and her family. Perhaps you would care to join me. I seem to recall promising to take you riding.”

Her face blossoms, wreathed with joy. “I would dearly love to go riding. I’ve missed it so.”

“We can stop for some strawberry tarts.” I promise.

Her smile grows. “Even better.”

“We’ll leave following breakfast, shall we?”

“I will need to change.”

“Thomas,” I say, directing my attention to one of the servants. “Send word out to the stables to have our horses readied.”

“Yes, my Alpha.”

After Thomas walks out, although two other servants remain, she leans across the table and whispers, “And you will behave.”

“I will be the perfect gentleman.”

But even a perfect gentleman can find a way to steal a kiss if he puts his mind to it.