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She muttered something in French, making him want to smile. she was all fire and…attitude!
Balancing on her hands, she carefully swung her leg over the wall, so that she was perched on it like a little chipmunk, her fingers turning white as she gripped the edge. Still she hesitated, lifting first one thigh and then the other to make sure the fabric of her jeans didn’t catch.
‘Want me to count to three?’ he drawled.
She threw him a dark look, her eyes fixed firmly on his, and then they snapped closed and she launched herself off the wall.
Wolfe felt her svelte torso slide through his hands as he caught her, his arms winding around her before she hit the ground. Her rib cage heaved as she dragged in an unsteady breath, the movement flattening her soft breasts against his hard chest.
Her arms clung tight around his neck, holding his face against the warm pulse at the base of her neck. His senses instantly filled with her heat and sweet perfume. He usually found perfume cloying. Hers wasn’t, and was probably the reason he held her longer than he needed to. Held her moulded against him as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Held her long enough to wonder how it would feel to fit himself deep inside her.
Tight. Hot. Wet.
Wolfe’s head reared back as his senses took over and he found himself staring into exquisite, wide-spaced navy blue eyes that made him feel as if he’d been hit by a land-to-air missile.
‘You can put me down now,’ she said a little breathlessly.
He could slide his hands down to her butt and wrap her legs around his waist, as well.
As if he’d spoken out loud the air between them thickened, and he felt every hot inch of her go impossibly still against him.
Almost embarrassed by a stupefyingly strong urge to crush her mouth beneath his, which had held him spellbound for—God—he hoped only seconds, he none-too-gently set her on her feet and stepped back from her.
It was only then that he noticed the slight swelling above her right temple.
‘You should get that looked at,’ he instructed roughly.
Her eyes licked over his face before meeting his, her breathing as uneven as his heart rate. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Put your shoes on. It’s time to go.’ He busied himself with collecting Achilles while his mind came back on line. By rights he should search her, to make sure she was clean, but, hell, he wasn’t touching her again. Bad enough he’d have to put her on the back of the horse since Eric and Dane had yet to return.
He frowned, wondering what was taking them so long.
‘I’d rather walk.’ Her eyes flitted from the stamping stallion and back to him.
Realising he was functioning below par, and that had he been on a real military expedition he might well be dead now, Wolfe re-engaged his instincts and gave her a hard stare. ‘You can try my patience, Princess, but I wouldn’t recommend it.’
She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected his curt tone. ‘Unlike your men, I don’t take orders from you.’
Wolfe widened his stance in a purely dominant move he knew she hadn’t missed. ‘We have yet to establish your real identity, so you either get on that horse or I’ll use one of these reins to bind your hands and drag you behind.’
‘I’d like to see you try,’ she invited him coolly.
He couldn’t believe this posh piece of work was calling his bluff. ‘Would you, now?’
She balled her hands on her hips and drew his sight to her slender curves. Not a clever move in his currently cantankerous state of combined anger and arousal. Of course he wouldn’t drag her, but he’d subdue her and throw her over his saddle.
He saw the moment she realised his threat wasn’t entirely idle.
‘Only men with very small appendages play the tough guy.’
‘And only women who are incredibly stupid challenge a man they’ve never met to prove his masculinity. Fortunately for you, I don’t feel the least threatened to prove myself by shrewish females.’
‘What can I say?’ She cocked her hip towards him insolently. ‘You bring out the best in me.’
Wolfe breathed deep at her intentionally provocative manner. ‘I’m sure that’s very far from your best, Princess,’ he drawled.
Her brows slowly rose and Wolfe realised he’d inadvertently revealed how attractive he found her. No doubt it was something she was used to and, like all women in his experience, would take absolute advantage of it given half the chance.
Something he didn’t plan to do.
Aggravated by his one-track mind, he was about to end her rebellious stance by physically dumping her onto the horse when his phone rang.
‘We found the car, boss. She’s legit. Her purse must have been thrown from her bag because it was lodged under the front seat.’
Wolfe grunted a reply and told his men to meet him at the cottage.
He looked up in time to catch her superior expression and knew that she’d overheard his conversation. ‘Seems you are who you say you are. Next time use the gate.’ He brought Achilles alongside her and grabbed the stirrup. ‘Give me your leg.’
‘You’re not even going to apologise?’
Her tone spoke of generations of superiority that made any apology Wolfe might have given die on his lips.
‘Your leg?’ he repeated, his eyes cool and guarded against the fire pouring out of hers.
Moving forward, she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, caught her heel on a rock and pitched straight into his arms.
Already highly sensitised to her touch, and not sure if the move had been deliberate, to throw him off balance, Wolfe immediately set her away from him. ‘And don’t try using that sexy little body to garner any favours, Princess.’
‘Trust me when I say that touching you is the last thing I would want to do.’
She presented him with her stiff back, gathered the reins up in one hand and stamped her foot into his hand. Wolfe didn’t know whether to be amused by her or angered, and perhaps if he hadn’t been about to head off after Gilles’s wedding to oversee an important software installation he might have hung around to test her lofty challenge. But he was, and he wasn’t stupid enough to get involved with another highly strung female.
‘Shift back,’ he grated. No way was she riding in front, where she would be cradled between his hard thighs.
‘You know, all that masculine muttering is entirely uncalled for. You are unquestionably the most irritating individual I have ever had the misfortune to come across.’
Wolfe was just about to tell her the feeling was entirely mutual when she twisted the reins out of his slack hold and dug her heels into Achilles’s side. The horse responded like the thoroughbred it was and sprang into an instant gallop.
Wolfe couldn’t believe it!
Not only had the little spitfire turned him on just by breathing, she had completely got the better of him. Neither of which had happened to him in…It had never happened before!
‘Dammit!’
Cursing under his breath, Wolfe whistled sharply. If Gilles had trained his animals correctly the horse should come to a complete stop.
CHAPTER TWO
ONE MINUTE AVA was flying across the uneven ground with breathless speed and the next she wasn’t moving at all. The horse did little more than twitch its majestic tail as she tried to urge him forward. By the time she worked out what had happened the overbearing inbecile was almost upon her.
‘Come on, horse. Do not listen to him. He is nobody.’
‘You look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but you’re a bossy little thing aren’t you, Princess?’
‘You are so arrogant.’
He settled his hands on his hips. ‘That’s rich, coming from you.’
‘I am not arrogant,’ she said in a voice that would have made her father proud. ‘I am confident. There is a difference.’
He had the gall to laugh. ‘And the difference would fit inside a flea’s arse.’
Ava used her sweetest voice to call him a foul name in French, knowing he probably wouldn’t understand her.
He shook his head and tsked. ‘Temper, temper.’ His gaze lifted to her hair. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say there was a red streak running through that glossy mane of yours.’
A chauvinist. How original. ‘I suppose you think I should be flattered you didn’t say blond?’
‘No, I would never confuse you with a blonde,’ he said with mock seriousness. ‘I like blondes.’
‘Then I do consider myself flattered!’
She thought about flicking the reins to try and ride off again, but he read her mind and his jaw clenched. ‘I don’t make the same mistakes twice. Shift back.’
Ava noticed how big the hand was that gripped the reins and instantly recalled how they had felt on her body as he’d caught her. Once again her pelvis clenched, sending delicious ripples of sensation through her whole body. Surprised, and a little breathless, she berated herself for the physical reaction. He was Neanderthal man two million-odd years later, his blood supply no doubt taken up by all the muscles in his body instead of his head, where he needed it most.
He moved a small handgun out from under the back of his shirt and tucked it inside his boot, and she felt another traitorous thrill shoot straight to her core. Peevishly she hoped the gun went off and shot him in the foot.
‘I’m sure many women get turned on by your barbaric tactics, but I can assure you I am not one of them.’
‘Good to know.’ He stroked the horse’s neck in long, smooth sweeps. ‘Since I’m not trying to turn you on.’
His eyes glittered up at her and made her heart pump just that little bit faster. Lord, she hoped he didn’t know she was lying, because she shouldn’t find this uncultured beast of a man so attractive.
Grabbing the pommel, he fitted his foot into the stirrup. ‘Now, you can ride up in front between my legs if you want to, Princess. Who knows? It might be fun.’
Ava quickly scooted back and ground her teeth together when he gave a low, sexy laugh. His voice was rich and totally indolent, as if he was always thinking of ways to pleasure a woman.
He swung easily onto the great horse, his large frame filling the saddle. The horse shifted as it readjusted to take their weight. ‘You might want to hang on.’ He shot over his shoulder, drawing up the reins.
‘I am.’
He glanced to where her hands gripped the saddle blanket before raising his eyes back to hers. Ava drew in a sharp breath at the impact.
‘I meant to me.’
Ava had no intention of holding on to him. ‘Dream on.’
He gave a half smile, as if he might do exactly that, clenched his powerful thighs, and the horse sprang forwards as if it had nothing more than a child on its back.
Instinctively Ava clutched at his shirt and found herself plastered up against the back of him. He was hard! And hot! Unable to help herself, she widened her fingers over his abdominal muscles as if she needed to do so to prevent herself from falling off. Colyn had always bemoaned the fact that she wasn’t tactile enough for him, but right now she could barely resist the urge to explore this stranger’s muscular physique. She thought she heard him blow out a hard breath and, slightly embarrassed at her temerity, quickly moved her fingers to his narrow hips. the roll of muscle there told her that he worked out. A lot.
Fortunately it took no time for the spirited stallion to make it to the main buildings. Unfortunately it was still long enough for the friction from the saddle and his body to make the space between her legs feel soft and moist.
Mon Dieu.
Yes, it had been a long time since she had been intimate with a man, but this one was so not her type…
Focusing on her surroundings, instead of the man she could feel with every cell of her body, she realised they weren’t at the stables but at one of the side entrances to the main building.
About to ask what they were doing there, she stopped when he twisted around in the saddle, grabbed her under her arm and effortlessly lifted her off the horse. Ava felt the slide of his thigh all the way down her body and closed her eyes briefly to block out the rush of heat coursing through her. When her feet finally touched the ground she locked her knees to take her weight and had to force herself to push away from his heat.
‘Any time you want to learn how to fly again, Princess, you just call me, okay?’
Ava curled her lip, but before she could come up with a pithy retort he had dug his heels into the stallion and was gone.
Thank God. It would take two top-of-the-line masseurs to work the tension out of her back after that!
‘Ma’am? Are you lost?’
A footman materialised at her side, and it was only then that Ava registered that her ‘captor’ had set her down in a private part of the castle, far from the prying eyes of arriving guests. It was probably more because he was used to using the servants’ entrance than out of any actual consideration for her, but even as she had the ungrateful thought she had a feeling she was wrong.
Wolfe stood on the lime-green lawn at the side of the white marquee set up as a servers’ area under the shade of a weeping willow. He wasn’t on duty, but his eyes scanned the throng of wedding guests holding sparkling glasses of wine and champagne and recapping the beautiful service they had just witnessed.
The men mostly wore classic morning suits, as he did, and the women were tastefully attired in afternoon dresses and sunhats. Later, at the evening reception, they would all change into their ballroom best.
It was only when his eyes finally found the Princess, in a small cluster of women waiting to talk to the bride, that he realised he’d been searching for her.
He cursed under his breath. His reaction to her was annoyingly primal. And annoyingly still present. The problem, he decided as he studied her, was that she had an element of the conquest about her. All that snooty standoffishness combined with her natural beauty was like a summons to any man who had red blood pumping through his veins. But while he enjoyed a challenge—possibly more than most men—some inner sense of self-preservation warned him to keep his distance.
He had very firm rules when it came to women and he never deviated from them. Keep it short, keep it sweet and, most importantly, keep it simple. This posh princess had complicated written all over her pretty face.
He’d seen enough relationships fall apart to last him a lifetime, and while logically he knew not all couples ended up on the scrap heap he wasn’t prepared to take the chance. It was probably the only risk he wasn’t willing to take, because when it all went pear-shaped the fall-out was usually devastating.
‘I know that face. You’re brooding about something.’
Wolfe glanced at Gilles, who had ambled up with two glasses of champagne in his hands. Wolfe took one and smiled. ‘Just enjoying the frivolities.’
Gilles gave him a droll look. Previously they had both bemoaned any wedding they’d been forced to attend. ‘I thought you were bringing someone with you today?’
Wolfe took a sip and tried not to wince as the warming liquid pooled in his mouth. ‘Not while I’m working.’
Gilles lowered his own glass, amusement dancing in his eyes. ‘She dumped you?’
Wolfe recalled the look on Astrid’s angry face when he’d told her he wouldn’t be seeing her again. ‘Yep.’
‘In…’ Gilles glanced at his watch ‘…how many hours?’
