A Certain Wolfish Charm Read Free

to escape her? "There is only so much I can do, Your Grace. We're entering a realm in his development I know nothing about. Oliver isn't the same boy he was before and…"
       The duke turned back to face her. His nostrils flared. His grey eyes darkened to black orbs. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked more like a dangerous beast than a refined nobleman.
       Lily swallowed her next words, gaping at the imposing duke as a shiver of fear trickled down her spine.
       "If you are incapable of caring for his lordship any longer, Miss Rutledge, I will find a replacement. In the meantime, I suggest you return to your nephew."
       Replacement? Someone who would care even less about Oliver than Blackmoor did? No one would take Oliver away from her. Not even this great hulking, surly duke. Lily found her voice. "How dare you threaten me? I am concerned about Oliver's well-being, and you won't put me off. You are his guardian, for better or worse, and you have duties where he's concerned."
       Blackmoor's eyes darkened even more, which Lily hadn't known was possible. She gulped nervously, panicking slightly when she realized his gaze focused on the movement in her throat. The duke had never seemed frightening until now. Of course, she hadn't laid eyes on him in years. Upon reflection, perhaps it was good he hadn't been to Maberley Hall in the last six years.
       "No one," his voice rumbled over her, "orders me about, Miss Rutledge, and it would be good for you to remember that." Blackmoor turned his piercing grey eyes on his butler and spoke through clenched teeth. "I assume the coach is prepared, Billings."
       The butler simply nodded.
       "You can't run away from me, Your Grace," Lily sputtered.
       " I'm not running away at all." He scooped her up in his arms. "But you, my troublesome Miss Rutledge, are returning to your nephew."
    Lily's mouth fell open. "How dare you…"
       "You ask that quite a bit. I do dare, Miss Rutledge. That is all you need to know."
       She squirmed in his arms, though it was no use. They were like steel bands wrapped around her. "Put me down."
       "In due time," he growled.
       Before Lily could respond, they were on the front stoop and then he was depositing her inside the Maberley coach. "Your Grace!" she managed before he shut the door on her.
       She reached for the handle, but the coach started off with a jerk, throwing her back against the squabs.
    ***

    Simon watched until the coach disappeared down the drive. Lily Rutledge was a formidable woman, and he didn't put it past her to leap from the conveyance. When all seemed safe, he took a calming breath, prayed to keep his temper in check, and then re-entered his home.
       Foolish woman! He barely had any control over himself as it was. She shouldn't tempt him with her tantalizing hazel eyes that sparkled with indignation. Her creamy breasts that rose higher with each deep intake of breath. Her slender waist that he could span with his hands, if he was of a mind to do so. The image that brought to mind shredded the last of his good intentions. What a blessing she was on her way back to Essex. Just remembering how she had felt in his arms filled him with desire.
       Simon tried to tamp down the feelings that suddenly poured through him. It was too close to the full moon to be around women. He'd taken a huge risk when he'd opened the library door. But her plea for help had touched the softness inside him, the softness that even the beast couldn't take out of his soul, not until the night. Not until the night of the full moon.
       When he had heard her impassioned plea, he had been in control of those urges. Then he had opened the door, and she'd fallen straight into his arms.
       She smelled of all things wonderful—a mix of floral scents, probably a perfume applied behind her ears. Or a touch of flower essence between her breasts. But at this stage of the lunar cycle, his sense of smell was