Prologue #3
“At this particular moment, you’ve made it my business, minx. Now, you must endure the consequences of your own stubbornness.”
There was a moment when it felt as though all the air surrounding them was suddenly sucked into a deep, black void.
Emily’s senses grew sharper, almost to the point of agony, her skin stretching tight across her bones, her heart thudding so hard she could hardly hear anything other than its slow, muffled beat.
Then Wylder’s palm connected with her bottom, and a surprising burst of sensations left her breathless and frozen with shock.
“That is for defying me.” His words were calm and almost detached. He swatted her rear again, the strange ache pronounced despite the layers of silk and muslin separating her bare flesh from his hand. “That is for provoking me into this.”
Emily tried wiggling off his lap, but Wylder held firm, his grip loose enough to avoid leaving bruises on her wrists but impossible to break.
Beneath her stomach, his thighs clenched with the effort to keep her positioned where he wanted her.
The heat from his body seeped through her gown, igniting tiny flames in places she’d never paid much attention to before this moment.
Her nipples tingled with excruciating awareness as they rubbed against the half-stays, and she squeezed her legs together against a confusing surge of pleasure.
Another strike, and Emily squealed as desire flamed into astonishing life. She sagged helplessly into him, speechless at the strength of the sensations coursing through her body. What on earth is happening to me?
“That’s for ignoring the danger in meeting a man like me in a place like this,” he explained in a deadly calm manner, apparently unaware of the turmoil that roiled within Emily.
“Do you know how easily I could take advantage of you and with no one the wiser for it? One can only hope you learn a lesson here tonight and remember it well.”
Emily whimpered then caught herself, swallowing the tiny noise with an inaudible gulp.
If Wylder believed her to be weak while enduring what he called punishment, then he would consider the lesson a success.
She was made of stronger stuff than the women who usually fluttered about the earl.
She would not dissolve into tears or even entertain the idea of female hysterics.
Oh, no. She knew what she wanted most in this world, and that was the gentleman currently holding her hostage across his lap.
Her chin lifted, a particularly difficult action as her head hung toward the ground in a position that left her slightly dizzy.
Somehow, she managed to twist her body enough so that she could look at him over her shoulder.
One slim eyebrow rose high with a well-practiced impertinence as Wylder met her gaze.
Something crackled between them as they regarded one another in silence—something hot and dangerous and fraught with bewildering possibilities.
Then, a slow, teasing smile lifted the corners of Emily’s mouth.
“I’m unsure of the lesson you are attempting to teach me,” she challenged in the most provoking manner she could manage. Experimentally, she wiggled again and was rewarded by Wylder’s strangled groan. “Should you perhaps try it again?”
“Wyldewood! What in the bloody hell are you doing to my sister?”
Simon Blackthorne’s fury-filled voice fractured the night air, and the ensuing silence was only accentuated by the raspy sounds of Emily’s jagged breaths.
Wylder paused, his hand tightening reflexively around her wrists. And for the first time, true panic raced through Emily.
Oh, no. No. No. No. This was going to be very bad.
“What does it look like I’m doing, Simon?
” Wylder’s tone was as unaffected as if he’d been interrupted while reading the morning papers.
There was no hint of shame or even irritation.
Just a straightforward answer delivered with no inflection of anger.
“I’m in the process of teaching your sister a much-deserved lesson. ”
“Have you gone absolutely mad? Get your hands off her. Let her up right now before I smash your goddamn face in,” Simon hissed, and when Emily twisted her head back around, she saw her older brother standing on the steps of the gazebo.
His fists were clenched into twin balls, his face darkened with rage.
Wylder slowly released Emily’s wrists. With impassive silence, he shoved her upright, then rose from the bench like a giant tiger stretching its body. With subtle determination, he moved until he stood in front of her, effectively shielding her from the earl and his obvious anger.
“Come here, Emily,” Simon barked, reaching out a hand toward her and beckoning impatiently.
Wylder slowly shook his head at his friend. “Do not take your anger out on her, Simon. While it’s true that her actions led to this, I won’t have her blamed for it. Besides, this is a personal matter between Emily and me—one that I hope you can understand and accept.”
“The hell it is!” Simon raked a hand through his thick, dark hair, glaring at his friend.
“I’d be well within my rights to shoot you on the spot, and no one would blink twice.
I’ve warned you repeatedly to keep your distance from her.
To not infect her with your depravity and yet, given the first opportunity to ruin her, you snatch it up with both hands. ”
“Simon, you don’t know what you are saying,” Emily said in a whisper while inside she was reeling from Simon’s accusations. He warned Wylder to stay away from me? But why? “This-this was a simple misunderstanding. And I’m hardly ruined despite what you think happened…”
“You would be far beyond ruin if anyone discovered this incident had occurred. Irrevocably. And if I managed to keep from killing my best friend, you would find yourself married before the week was out. But that won’t happen.”
“Of course, it won’t because I would not marry her.
You know that, Simon,” Wylder interjected.
His tone was so cold, so impersonal, that he might have been a stranger discussing something as innocuous as the weather.
“This was nothing more than your sister paying a price for brattish behavior. You should be grateful that I am the one meeting her in this gazebo. Anyone else would have taken full advantage of her recklessness.”
“Do you really mean that, Wylder? You-you would not marry me if necessary?” Emily asked haltingly. Her lower lip trembled as she gripped his muscled forearm, silently demanding that he look at her.
“No, I would not. I don’t care for you in that manner,” Wylder answered, his attention remaining centered on Simon, who practically vibrated with rage. “Return to the ball, Emily. Your brother and I must reach an agreement before bloodshed becomes the only solution.”
“And I have no say in the matter? Is that it? You decide for me, and I must accept it?” Emily dug her nails into the wool of his coat, trying to hurt him as she was hurting.
She wanted to beat his chest with her fists but restrained herself with difficulty.
“I won’t leave…not when you are both hungry for a fight.
I won’t let you kill each other over something like this. And I’m not a child to be sent away.”
“Your behavior suggests otherwise,” Wylder snapped, prying her hand off his arm with a low growl. “Now, will you do as I say, or must your brother drag you away from me?”
Emily stiffened, her heart freezing within the cage of her chest. She could not believe Wylder was speaking to her like this.
As if she meant nothing to him… as if he truly regarded her as little more than a distraction to be eliminated.
“Why are you doing this?” she bit out in cold, clipped words.
“Don’t you realize you are breaking my heart? Can you not see that?”
Wylder finally glanced down at her. A spark of sympathy lit the cool gray depths of his eyes before it was banked behind a curtain of careful indifference. “Of course, Emily. I know exactly what I am doing, and the reasons for it matter more than you know. Believe me, this is for the best.”