Chapter 6
SIX
KOR
I shocked the pool and then made my way back to the East Wing, the strong, sharp scent of chlorine trailing after me. The smell was irritating to my sensitive Were nose, but at least it calmed the arousal that had rushed over me in a wave when Vivienne had put her hand on my arm.
She barely touched you! What’s wrong with you? I shouted at myself mentally, as I made my way through the huge mansion. I wondered how many bedrooms Wolverton Manor had. Then I wondered where Vivienne’s bedroom was and what she looked like curled up in bed…
Damn it, there I went again. It was unnerving to be so attracted to someone I had never met before…
and who was so completely and totally off limits.
I got the sense that my late Uncle’s pack was extremely strict about not breaking the Unbreakable Laws.
Vivienne was a Moon Widow and therefore untouchable.
Why the fuck are you even thinking about this? I asked myself sharply. She doesn’t want to be with you that way! She doesn’t even know you—and you don’t know her. Hell, you just met her an hour ago. So stop it with these crazy ideas.
Resolving to push the whole ridiculous attraction out of my mind, I found my way to the kitchen…and had to stop in the doorway to catch my breath at what I saw.
There she was—standing at a stove that looked like it cost more than my car back home.
Her long, wavy black hair was down around her shoulders, and her curvy figure was wrapped tightly in a dark blue silk robe that seemed to emphasize her full breasts and hips—though I was sure that wasn’t her intention.
Though I hadn’t known her long, Vivienne seemed to be a modest woman.
She’d blushed scarlet when I complimented her beauty and truly didn’t seem to realize how lovely she was.
Though how that was possible, I wasn’t sure.
She was flat-out, drop-dead gorgeous and if my late uncle hadn’t told her that every day of his life, then the man was a fool.
She must have heard me standing by the door because she looked up then and I had to fight not to drown in her eyes.
They were a deep, cerulean blue with a thin ring of pure gold around each iris.
“Royal Gold” I’d heard some people call it.
It was supposed to denote someone who had the blood of the Royal Were Family in their veins.
Of course the Royals—who no longer ruled us—had spread their seed around enough that having Royal Ringed Eyes wasn’t unheard of. But it wasn’t exactly common, either. I’d only ever met one other Were with gold in her eyes and she’d only had a few flecks around her pupils.
For a moment, Vivienne and I just stared at each other. She had taken off her makeup when she changed—I could see that. But she was just as beautiful without it—maybe even more beautiful than before.
“I, er, hope you like your cocoa sweet,” she said, smiling tentatively at me. “I think I might have put in too much sugar.”
“No such thing when you have a sweet tooth like mine,” I said quickly, coming into the kitchen.
It was huge, with decorative copper pots hanging from an overhead rack and vast stainless-steel appliances that could have kept enough food for a dozen people—not just one lonely widow.
Vivienne looked small in the middle of the large room, which was big enough for four or five chefs to work in at once.
I thought of how she’d said that Wolverton Manor was “cold and lonely” even before my uncle died. Just seeing her here, all alone and looking so small in the vast kitchen, made me wish I could warm her up and ease her grief.
“Well, you’d better wait to judge it until after you’ve had a sip,” she told me. She poured the steaming cocoa from a copper bottomed saucepan into two ceramic mugs and raised her eyebrows at me. “Would you like marshmallows or whipped cream?”
“What the hell—give me both.” I came to sit on a bar stool at the large, marble-topped kitchen island across from her.
“You really must have a sweet tooth!” She gave me a tentative smile as she sprinkled some miniature marshmallows into my mug and added a squirt of whipped cream from a long silver can.
“I do. I love sweet things,” I said and took a sip.
The cocoa was perfect—sweet and hot and chocolaty. Just right for warming up after being drenched in a rainstorm. My trousers were still a little damp, and I was still carrying my coat and shirt around, since I hadn’t wanted to put them back on when I was all wet.
“Mmm—this is delicious, Vivienne. Thank you.” I said, smiling as I put the mug down.
“Oh, you have some whipped cream—right there.” She pointed at her nose.
I crossed my eyes, trying to see the tip of my own nose but my expression must have looked ridiculous, because she covered her mouth and giggled—a soft, musical sound I liked at once.
Hamming it up some, I attempted to lick off the cream with the tip of my tongue—but I couldn’t quite reach it.
“Here, you’ll never get it that way.” Vivienne was openly laughing now. “Let me.” She leaned across the kitchen island and dabbed at my nose with her finger. Then she popped it into her mouth and sucked, her eyes never leaving mine.
It was a playful gesture and not meant to be sensuous or sexual at all but holy fuck—thank the Moon Goddess I was sitting down because my hard-on had suddenly roared back to life with a vengeance!
I don’t know why watching her suck her finger like that got to me but it sure as hell did.
I was so hard I ached, even though I knew it was completely inappropriate.
She’s a Moon Widow! I reminded myself fiercely.
Who cares? She’s also fucking gorgeous, whispered a rebellious little voice in my head.
After a moment I realized we were just sitting there, staring at each other and it was my turn to say something before I started drooling like a fucking dog.
“Thank you.” I said, trying to sound normal. “You saved me.”
“From having a whipped cream nose?” She laughed. “I hardly think that’s a terrible fate.”
“It is, though,” I said seriously, shifting in my seat to try and make some room. “What if I walked into a pack meeting looking like that? No one would ever respect me ever again.”
But I seemed to have said the wrong thing, because Vivienne was suddenly serious.
“They only respect who they want to,” she said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t expect very much from them—they don’t take to outsiders very well.”
I frowned.
“You almost make it sound like you’re an outsider, Vivienne,” I said.
She nodded seriously.
“I am. Carter never really encouraged me to make friends with anyone when he first bought me as his wife and later, well, none of them wanted anything to do with me.”
“What? Why?” I shook my head in disbelief. “And did you say he bought you?”
She nodded.
“My parents needed the money. They’re both gone now,” she added, looking sad.
“But that…that’s fucked up,” I protested. “I mean, excuse my language but you can’t just buy a wife.”
“Maybe it would be considered unusual now, but twenty years ago, in this part of the country, it wasn’t so strange,” she said softly. “There are a lot of old ways here in the Appalachians…a lot of superstitions. Which is one reason my late husband’s Pack doesn’t like me.”
Why would everyone in my late uncle’s pack dislike his mate?” I asked, still confused.
She looked away.
“Because I’m barren.”
I could see what it cost her to say that word. It seemed to stick in her throat like a bone, but she somehow got it out anyway.
“You can’t have children?” I asked sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I know that can be rough for a woman, especially if she really wants them.”
“You have no idea,” she said, and her beautiful eyes were so sad that for a moment I wanted desperately to reach around the kitchen island and just hold her.
I can’t explain it, but loneliness came off her like a soft blue cloud and it made me feel protective of her and sad for her at the same time.
“So the people of the Pack…”
“They don’t care for me much,” she said and took a sip of her cocoa.
“I was sold to your uncle because a soothsayer gave him a prophecy that I would bear a male of his line many heirs.” She shook her head.
“But the prophecy failed. And now, here I am—Carter’s dead and I don’t have any children to keep me company. ”
“I’ll keep you company,” I said. Impulsively, I reached across the kitchen island and covered her small, delicate hand with my own.
I felt the by-now familiar tingle of instant lust, but I did my best to ignore it.
“I’m sorry you were left all alone up here in this big house,” I said to her.
“I may not be much, but I hope you won’t be quite so lonely while I’m staying here. ”
She smiled at me, but her lovely eyes were still sad.
“You’re very sweet, Kor. Thank you for that. Your company and companionship are very welcome here.”
“I still don’t see why the Pack here blames you for a failed prophecy,” I said, angry at the idea.
She shrugged.
“Well, Carter made it very clear to everyone that I was the reason there were no heirs. He wasn’t about to be blamed for it himself. And it’s not like he didn’t try to…to get me pregnant.”
Her cheeks got pink, and she looked down to where my hand was resting on top of hers.
“So he…” I cleared my throat. “It wasn’t a, uh, problem on his end?”
“Oh, it might have been—he might have had a low sperm count. I don’t know—he refused to be tested,” she said.
“But as for trying, he certainly tried. Every time I had a Heat Cycle, he…he…” She shook her head.
“I didn’t…didn’t always want him to but he said we had to keep trying… trying for an heir. So he—”
She broke off with a shudder, but I understood what she was saying. She hadn’t been a willing participant. Every month for her entire married life Uncle Carter had raped her—the bastard! I had a sudden wish that I could dig him up and make him sorry for the pain I saw in her beautiful eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, and my voice came out sounding rough. I squeezed her hand gently. “So sorry, Vivienne.”
There were tears in her eyes when she looked up, but she brushed them quickly away with the back of her hand.
“How did we get started talking about this, anyway? I’m so sorry—I’m an old lady, you don’t want to hear my troubles.”
“Old Lady?” I gave her an incredulous look. This was the second time she’d referred to herself as “old” or “over the hill.”
“Well, yes. I mean, I am past forty,” she reminded me.
“I don’t care about that—you’re fucking gorgeous,” I told her. “And I don’t mean for your age—I mean you’re a complete knock-out.”
“Oh, please…” Her hand went to her cheek and I saw that she was blushing. “Please don’t say such things. I’m sure they can’t be true. Carter certainly never said anything like that.”
“Then he was a fool,” I said firmly. And a rapist, I thought but didn’t say. “You’re a beautiful woman and he should have told you so every day of your life.”
“You’re going to make me vain,” she said and laughed that soft, musical laugh I was already getting addicted to.
I found I wanted to hear it again, but I couldn’t think of anything funny to say.
All I could think of was how soft her skin was and how good she smelled.
Was that her natural female Were scent? I had never smelled anything like it.
“Well, it’s getting late,” Vivienne said, at last sliding her hand out from under mine. “We should probably be getting to bed. I mean, me in my bed and you in yours,” she added quickly, and her cheeks went pink all over again.
“Oh, of course.” I gulped down the rest of my hot cocoa, which had grown cold while we were talking, and stood abruptly. My hard-on had gone down some, thank the Moon Goddess—it only made a small tent in the crotch of my trousers.
Vivienne finished her cocoa as well and handed me her mug when I held out a hand for it.
“Er, where are you putting me?” I asked, as I carried both our mugs to the sink and rinsed them out. “In the West Wing?”
“Oh, no—that’s very far away from…” She trailed off, blushing. “I mean there are some guest rooms in that wing, if you really want to stay there.”
“No, no—put me wherever,” I said quickly. “I was just joking. I’m not used to a house with wings, remember?”
“Oh, of course.” She gave me that heartbreakingly tentative smile again—the smile that said she wanted to like me and wanted me to like her, but she wasn’t quite sure about me yet.
“Seriously—I can sleep on the couch or the floor or wherever,” I said, shrugging to show I didn’t care. I finished rinsing the mugs and looked around. “Is there a dishwasher I can put these in?”
Vivienne looked surprised.
“My—you’re domestic,” she said and pulled open the appliance. It had a hidden door, disguised to look like a cabinet—no wonder I hadn’t been able to find it. She cleared her throat. “Your, er, girlfriend must have trained you well.”
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said. “No wife either,” I felt compelled to add, though I didn’t know why.
“Really? A handsome young man like you?” She looked surprised.
“Nope. I was in a long-term relationship with a girl I went to college with—we almost tied the knot.” I shook my head. “But then it all kind of fell apart.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind me asking why?”
“Well, it turned out she was seeing someone else behind my back.” I raked a hand through my hair. “Ever since then, I really haven’t wanted to dive back into the dating pool—you know?”
“Of course not. I’m so sorry,” she said, and I could tell by her eyes that she really was. “That’s terribly painful.”
“Not as much as you might think,” I said.
“I mean, it’s true we were all set to get married, but we hadn’t started picking out venues or anything yet.
And even though I told myself I loved Jennie—that was her name—after she left, I found that I didn’t really miss her, you know?
” I tried to laugh. “I know that makes me sound like a cold-hearted bastard. I don’t know why it didn’t affect me more. ”
“Maybe she just wasn’t the right girl for you,” Vivienne said. She shrugged. “I’m sure the Moon Goddess has the right person waiting for you, somewhere down the line.”
“Yeah, well I’m in no hurry to meet her just yet,” I said, smiling. “Right now, I’m just happy to be here with you.”
Her face lit up with a smile—and I do mean it lit up. Her gold-ringed eyes practically glowed and the expression made her so beautiful I nearly forgot to breathe.
“Well, thank you, Kor. I’m happy to have you.” She shut the dishwasher door and smiled. “Come on—it’s getting late. Let me show you to your room.”
And then she walked out of the kitchen, and I followed, trying really hard not to stare at her lush behind and trying even harder not to wonder what she might look like without her robe.