Free The Bride of Time by Dawn Thompson

didn’t speak again until they reached her rooms. “You haven’t answered my question,” she said. “What do you mean to do to that boy?”
    He scowled at her. “Zeus, what a look!” he replied. “Nothing unlawful, I assure you. He will be found and confined to his rooms. You are certain he didn’t really bite you?”
    “I’m certain.”

    “No skin was broken?”
    Tessa bristled. “No, none. Now, look here—”
    “Very well, then,” he interrupted her. “You will report to me before you resume your duties in the morning. Now, I must ask that you lock yourself in your suite and stay put. Good night, Miss LaPrelle.”

Chapter Six
    He was aroused— aroused! How the devil could he be hard against the seam in these dire circumstances? Nonetheless he was, gazing down into Tessa’s limpid eyes, which sparkled in the soft glimmer issuing from the candle sconces. His arm still tingled from the touch of her hand. He’d felt its warmth through the fine lawn fabric. He could feel it still. He balled his hands into white-knuckled fists at his sides to keep from reaching out and taking her in his arms, from ravishing those dewy lips with his own. What would they feel like? What would they taste like, those soft-looking, sweet, pouty lips shaped like Cupid’s bow?
    It wasn’t the brandy. He’d sobered as if he hadn’t touched a drop the minute she said the child tried to bite her. Foster was right. He’d put her in harm’s way—not only from the child, but from himself. Tomorrow night the moon would be full. He could already feel the pull of it, the strange unrest it brought to bear upon every cell in his body as the moon waxed closer and closer to fullness, the bestial restlessness that mounted until the blackout. Then he would no longer be in control until the dawn. The last time it had been thus for four nights altogether: one coming on, like now; two full-blownnightmarish nights while the moon was at its fullest; and one more as it began to wane. Then the madness subsided until the moon waxed full again. Would it always be the same? He had no way of knowing. That was the worst of it. Lycanthropy was myth, not fact; at least that is what he’d always believed until now.
    Tessa was safe enough from that for the moment, but not from his other urges. It had been too long since he’d had the pleasure of soft, willing flesh in his arms, and a warm, eager body to welcome his release. But he kept his distance. He might be a savage when the moon was full, but elsewise he’d always prided himself on being a gentleman. Besides, it was too soon. Make a move now and he would spoil any chance he might have if he waited. It was some time since he’d had to play these silly mating games. All that seemed so ridiculous now. And, of course, it was clear she did not return his favor in kind.
    “In you get,” he said. “Lock the doors, and stay inside no matter what you hear or think you hear.” She seemed reluctant, and he muttered an exasperated string of expletives under his breath. “No harm will come to the boy, you have my word,” he said. He brandished his wrist. “Hah! I’m the savaged one; or had you forgotten? Keep in mind that you could have very well been next.”
    “You have a vile temper, Mr. Longworth,” Tessa said frostily. “I saw it in action when I arrived on your estate. Directed toward the doxy, it was shocking enough. I would entreat you to curb it before meting out your brand of justice—nay, retribution —upon the boy. And, I would hope that you do not go so far as to make my position here impossible afterward. I wish I’d never called the matter to your attention.”
    “Well, you did, and there it is. Now kindly step inside and lock the door, and leave us to do what needs be done.”

    Despite all his noble resolve, Giles couldn’t keep his roaming hand from reaching out and pressing against the small of her back as he guided her over the threshold. The warmth of her rushed through the