Tempest of Passion (10 page)

“
Mr. Dalton, I think you should leave.”

He
glanced into her eyes. The soft brown depths contradicted her
words. She cared about him. Somewhere in her heart, she cared about
him. Lust or something more, he could not say. How much she cared,
he did not know. He could only hope that it was enough so she
wouldn’t hate him forever when he told her what he’d
done.

“
Emily.” His mouth dried. His wolf cowered in his
still-beating heart. He was glad his hands were flat against the
wall, for otherwise they’d tremble. “I already asked your father
for your hand.”

“
What?” Her brow wrinkled, marring her perfect
complexion.

“
I have to go to London to see to some urgent matters and I
don’t want us to part.”

“
No.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.” She pushed
against him and he let her go. “You asked my father for my hand
because you must leave to London?”

The scent of fear was unmistakable as she hurried to the other
side of the room … the farthest she could get away without leaving.
William ran his fingers through his hair. At least she had not run
out the door.

“
Could you not have written to me from London?”

“
Emily.” William hesitated. How was he to explain that he
could not leave her behind because he feared for her life? How
could he tell her that the grey wolves had returned and he and
Reeves had fought to the death with them? How could he explain that
he feared more would come and that if he left her here, alone,
without protection, they’d kill her? How could he tell her that his
father lay dying because he’d been unable to be at his side and
protect him? That he was probably dead because of him? He would not
make the same mistake with her. Upon his honor and soul, he’d keep
her safe. Even if it cost him her love.

“
Is that all you can say to justify your actions, Mr. Dalton?”
She steepled her hands over her nose and took in a deep breath.
“Please leave.”

William
stared at her. Disappointment shone hard through her
eyes.

“
I can’t leave, Emily. And no, I could not write to you from
London. A weeklong separation has driven me to the brink of
madness. I do not know how long I will remain in London, but I do
know that I need you to be with me.” He needed to find out what had
happened to his father. The letter he’d received had been remiss of
details, but fear for his family had him packing his things and
preparing to rush to London without a care for the council’s order.
However, he couldn’t leave Emily here alone. Whoever was trying to
destroy his life would hunt her down. He had no doubts about
it.

“
And what about me? What about what I want, Mr. Dalton?
Doesn’t that matter to you?”

“
Yes, of course it does.”

“
It does? So why then, pray do tell, why did you speak to my
father before speaking to me? Why did you not come to me
first?”

William’s
nails dug into his palms. He wanted to erase the pain in her voice.
To rid her of the sadness and anger he’d created by his actions. By
God, he wanted to explain. He wanted her to see that what he did
was for her own protection.

“Emily…”

“
Don’t, don’t Emily me. You are just like the rest of them.
Speaking sweet words to tie me down to a marriage I never asked
for.” She snorted. Tears shone in her eyes.

“
Emily, had I waited, had the possibility of writing to you
from London existed … would you not have refused?”

“
Of course I would have refused.” She fisted the soft material
of her skirt. “I could never marry a man like you. You are
conceited and presumptuous.” She shook her head, chewing on her
bottom lip for an instant before plunging on. “For some reason,
you’ve believed you can make me yours out of sheer will. You
cannot, Mr. Dalton.” She smiled sadly and smoothed out the wrinkles
on her skirt before raising her head to look him squarely in the
eyes. “I will not marry you, Mr. Dalton.”

William’s
wolf whimpered in distress. Sweat ran down his back as he heard
himself say the words that would doom his love forever.

“
You have no say in the matter. Your father has agreed to the
marriage. We wed in two days’ time.”

William
took a step toward her as the blood drained from her face. She
raised her arm, staving him off.

“
My father has consented? He has not spoken to me.” Her words
came out so softly he wasn’t sure they were meant for
him.

William
thought back to the conversation he’d had with the Bunsbury head of
family earlier that day. He had been glad to find a man interested
in his headstrong daughter. William had explained that he thought
she had feelings for him, but of course, they both knew she would
refuse any marriage proposal. He’d shown him the letters and
explained his need to travel to London urgently. Mr. Bunsbury had
not been entirely convinced until he’d told him he did not need a
dowry.

“
I asked him to allow me to speak to you first.”

“
Why are you doing this? Why do you wish to destroy my
life?”

“
I do not wish that, Emily. Do you not see I want to keep you
alive?” he burst out.

“
Alive?” she shrieked. “Alive, protected, safe. I led that
life until you appeared, William Dalton. I don’t know what you want
from me, except to destroy everything I ever had. You cannot make
me marry you.”

“
That is no longer your decision to make,” he said,
quietly.

Her hand flew to her mouth as if he’d physically slapped her.
Tears filled her eyes and she ran. William covered his face with
his hands. He heard the door slam open and Emily’s feet patter
across the hardwood floor as she ran off. He took in a shaky
breath. She thought he was destroying her life, but in truth, what
he’d just done had destroyed his. The only thought that comforted
him was his realization though their marriage would be soulless and
cold, she’d be alive. Once he discovered who was attempting against
their lives, he’d give her whatever she asked for. If she wanted to
live in separate households, so be it. If she wanted him gone … so
be it. As long as he could watch her. As long as he could make sure
that she was well cared for, he would be content. His Emily had too
much life in her for it to be stolen by an unknown identity. He
would not allow it.

Chapter Twelve

William
sagged against the coach’s seat and rubbed his tired eyes. He
chanced a glance at his wife. Emily was in the same position she’d
been in since they abandoned Brookenshire shortly after their
wedding ceremony. She had not said a word to him since that
morning. Her red rimmed eyes were downcast. Her lips set into a
line so thin he could barely distinguish them. In such short notice
she had been unable to procure a wedding dress and wore instead a
bright coral dress with long sleeves and golden trim. He supposed
it had been chosen to bring out the color in her cheeks but her
pallor was still visible. The white flowers that had adorned her
hair were gone. He guessed she’d given them to her mother before
their departure.

She was clearly unhappy and he hated himself for it. He wanted
to make her happy. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her
laughter, to see her eyes shine with merriment. Instead he was
bringing her into his world without her consent. A world of death,
misery, pain … and loneliness. His only comfort was that now, as
man and wife, she’d be at his side and he’d keep her safe. He’d die
before he allowed anything to happen to her.

“
Emily,” he began.

Her spine stiffened and her knuckles turned white as she
pressed her hands more tightly together over her lap. Pain lanced
William’s heart. What had he done?  He rubbed his neck and
stared out the window. The landscape rolled by. A mirage of lush
green forest and weather perfect bright blue skies that mocked his
unhappiness. The horses’ hooves clapped against the dirt path
mingled with the rattling noise of the wheels and the quiet
whispers of the driver and the postilion. His wolf whimpered. He
wanted to shift and run alongside the coach like he’d done as a
child when they visited their summer residence. Life was easier
then. All he had to worry about back then was not getting trampled
by the horses.

He closed his eyes. Immediately Emily’s scent became more
accentuated. It was sweet yet earthly, like fresh crushed jasmine
flowers after a summer storm. He ran his fingers through his hair,
tugging at the ends in a futile attempt to lessen the sharp pain in
his chest. Her fragrance was permeated with overpowering sadness.
He’d done this to her. He’d cornered her into a marriage she did
not desire. Instead of waiting two weeks or reading the banns, he’d
called in some favors and had obtained the license swiftly. What he
would give to have been able to do things the right way. To have
Emily smile once throughout the ceremony. Instead, she’d stood at
his side, her face an unreadable mask and her eyes a soulless pit
devoid of spirit. Affected by her attitude, the wedding party,
comprised of Emily’s parents, one of her cousins and Reeves, had
been just as serious. Anyone that had looked in on them would have
thought they were celebrating a funeral and Emily would have been
the cadaver, for even her hand had been cold when he’d grasped it
at the chapel.

William glanced at Emily again. She had her eyes closed but
her steely posture gave away that she was not asleep. His only hope
was that Reeves had told him in confidence that he believed Emily
did have feelings for him, for he’d seen the way she looked at him.
He did not know what that meant but he held onto it. William chewed
on the inside of his cheek. It mattered not. Even if she hated him
he’d protect her.

His thoughts strayed to his family in London. His mother, his
brothers and sisters, and his dying father. He prayed that they
were still safe and that his father had not died yet, that he could
at least speak to him one last time. William kneaded his forehead
where a headache was starting to build. For the hundredth time he
pondered the questions: Why? Who? He had never done anything to
intentionally harm another. He was fair to his business partners.
He believed himself to be loved by his family and friends alike.
Who was so intent on removing him? What purpose did they have?
Perhaps, he hoped, someone back home had some answers that could
enlighten him or make his and Emily’s life safer in some
way.

William stifled a yawn. He’d barely gotten any sleep the past
few days. Throughout the day he’d been around town preparing
everything for their marriage and their trip, whilst at night he’d
watch Emily’s house from the cover of the surrounding forest. Now,
she was safe. As safe as she could be for the time being. His eyes
drooped. His wolf scouted Emily’s scent. She was fast asleep. He
followed her only seconds later.

William woke to the soft touch of
inquisitive fingers on his cheek.
Emily
. He recognized the soft
pressure of her fingers and her sweet scent. He took in a breath,
pretending to be fast asleep. He didn’t want to scare her away. The
sadness was still there but it was riddled with a new musky tang
that denoted her curiosity for him. Hope blossomed like an evening
primrose. Could Reeves be correct? Could she still feel something
for him?

Gently, she touched his cheek, tracing the scar that ran from
above the left side of his mouth to almost below his eye. Her
skirts rustled. Her breath fanned his face. Everything around him
vanished to center on the woman that was poised over him. He held
his breath. What would she do?

The coach rocked violently and she toppled over him with a cry
of surprise. She scrambled to get away from him, but he was faster.
William closed his hands over her wrists, preventing her escape. A
frustrated groan escaped her lips as she struggled against him.
Eyes, sizzling with internal fire, found his.

“
Be still, Emily.”

The tip
of her tongue snaked between her lips, licking them and causing his
cock to stir.

“
Release me,” she demanded. Her voice came out a hoarse
whisper, denoting the effect he was having on her.

“
Are you all right?”

“
I…” She paused. Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled
slightly just as her lips disappeared between her teeth only to pop
out seconds later. “Yes. I am fine.”

William searched her face. Her pulse beat erratically against
his fingertips on her wrist. He leaned toward her. He only had but
to move an inch and their lips would meet.

“
Release me.”

She tried to jerk away from him. Feigning nonchalance, William
chuckled and leaned back against the seat, pulling her down with
him and forcing her to place the flat of her palms against his
chest. They burned through his clothes, kicking his heartbeat into
a fiery storm and sending fire signals through his veins straight
to his cock.

“
The more you pull, the stronger my grip shall be.” She
stilled. Her breath came out in short pants and she looked away.
“What were you doing, Emily?”

He knew he was baiting her, teasing her, but he couldn’t help
himself. Now that he was fully awake he recognized that musky scent
for what it was: arousal. She felt something for him. Something
primal. Something carnal. It was a start. One that, if he could
uncover the true meaning behind them, could potentially lead to
more.