Deception (32 page)

“Lizzy has agreed to help me train. I have my doubts I can ever hunt again. I am her first assignment.”

Lizzy had a strong will and would be good for Reece and his recovery. “I heard they closed the school in Inverness.”

He nodded. “Shafton’s penance for his lies. His school is closed, and he is assigned to information gathering in London.”

“Where will the students go?”

“The Earl and Countess of Tullering have offered their country estate for the new school.”

“Belinda and Gabriel will run the school?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure of that, but they have donated the estate.”

“I suppose there is some symmetry to Shafton’s daughter taking over the school.” She stood up and brushed out her wedding dress. Catching a glimpse of herself in the oval mirror, she didn’t recognize the lady looking back.

“I never thought I’d see this day, Lilly. I always thought you would grow old with me.”

She went over and sat next to him. “I never intended to marry, though I never expect to grow old either. The demons have some say in our outcome.”

“Why are you doing it?”

“Marrying?” She grinned. “I love him. I never even knew something was missing from my life, but the idea of living without him breaks my heart.”

He stood and kissed her forehead. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Dorian stepped into the doorway. “I do not mean to interrupt, but a frantic maid rushed into my study in a panic because a man was in her lady’s room.”

Reece stepped forward and put out his hand. “You are a lucky man.”

Dorian shook his hand. “Thank you.”

“I will see you both at the church.”

Lillian rushed forward and hugged Reece.

He ended the hug and stepped out with the slow, stooped gait of a much older man.

“You should not be in here, Dorian.” In spite of her admonishment, she stepped into his outstretched arms. He was warm and strong and smelled of vanilla.

He laughed. “But Reece belonged in your bedroom?”

“This is not my bedroom. Are you jealous?”

“Of Reece? No. We belong to each other, and I trust you.”

She pulled him tighter. “Yes, we do. Now, get out so I can finish getting ready. You don’t want me to be late to my own wedding, do you?”

He stepped aside and bowed. “I will wait for you at the altar for as long as it takes.”

Her heart was ready to burst, and tears threatened her eyes. “I know you will, but I will not make you wait.”

He nodded and pressed a finger to the corner of his eye. “I will never be able to tell you how much I love you, Lilly.”

She touched his cheek. “Do not trouble yourself, Dorian. I already know.”

He kissed her palm and took a deep breath. His voice brightened. “I have a wedding gift for you. Would you like it now?”

She didn’t need anything, but the idea he had thought to buy her a present made her giddy. “Yes, of course.”

He smiled. “I will return in a moment.”

She smoothed her wedding dress and looked around the room for something to occupy her time.

He must have had a footman waiting down the hall. He arrived with a long, rectangular box wrapped with a large, yellow bow and placed it on the bed.

Lillian’s heart pounded. She stepped to the bed. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

She pulled the bow and flipped up the latch of the box. Running her hand along the fine wood, she lifted the lid. Her breath caught. A pair of
sai
swords lay inside the velvet lined box. Shined steel blades, curved pieces to protect her hands, leather wrapped at the hilt, and one stunning ruby at the apex of blade and hilt. She touched the cold metal. “Dorian, they’re beautiful.”

“You like them?”

She picked one up in each hand, leaving behind the leather sheathes that lay beside each. The balance was exquisite. She had not trained in months, but the blades felt good in her hands. One arm automatically went above her head and the other crossed to her waist. “I love them.”

“I’m glad. I thought of a piece of jewelry, but then I remembered to whom I was getting married.”

She giggled like a girl and reversed the stance. “How did you find them?”

“Your friend Fletcher managed to procure them. He will be pleased they are to your liking.”

She placed the fine swords back inside the case and walked into Dorian’s embrace. “I love them and you.”

“You gave up your other set and saved our lives. It seemed only appropriate you should have another.”

“You are a very thoughtful husband.”

“I intend to make you very happy, Lilly. Though I’m not your husband yet.”

She pushed him away.

He took a quick step back.

“You need to get out of here and get to the church or our guests will think we have both run for the hills.”

His smile could have lit the entire house. “I do not care what anyone thinks as long as you are pleased.”

Lillian’s heart had grown too big for her chest. “I am more than pleased, Dorian. I am in love.”

He bowed low. “I will see you at St. Andrews then.”

“And every day after.”

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Multi-published in erotic paranormal, erotic contemporary, Regency historical romance and of course historical paranormal romance, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of romance for many years to come.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden.

A.S. loves to hear from her readers. Be sure to write to her at
[email protected]
.

Learn more about A.S at
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31620

Don’t miss A.S. Fenichel’s

When demons threaten London, Lady Belinda answers the call.

Lord Gabriel Thurston returns home from war to find his fiancée is not the sweet young girl he left behind. She’s grown into a mysterious woman who guards her dark secrets well. When he sees her sneaking away from a ball, he’s convinced it’s for a lover’s rendezvous. Following her to London’s slums, Gabriel watches in horror as his fiancée ruthlessly slay a man.

Lady Belinda Carlisle’s only concern was her dress for the next ball—until demons nearly killed her and changed everything. A lady by day, and a demon hunter by night, she knows where her duty lies. Ending her betrothal is the best way to protect Gabriel from death by a demon’s hand.

Gabriel soon realizes, like him, Belinda has been fighting for her country. He joins in the fight, determined to show her that their love can endure, stronger than ever.

Demon Hunters #1 on sale now!

Learn more about A.S. at
http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31620

Lady Belinda Clayton grappled with the creaking iron gate, which led to the back garden of her family’s London townhouse. It was not the first time she had used the unconventional route to make her way back home in the predawn hours. Nor was it the first time her dress had been ruined or her hair tousled in her rush to make her way through the streets without becoming a number on the death toll in the city’s records.

Pushing the gate closed, the rough, cold metal scratched her gloved palm. Once the latch was secured she ran her finger along the jagged tear in her left glove. “Too bad,” she said. She shook her head at the ruined garment. “I really did like this pair.”

“What pair is that, Lady Belinda?” Gabriel’s deep, seductive voice cut through the still night.

His blue eyes were the color of the sea just before a storm and their depths burned into her.

Her stomach did a flip before she had time to control herself. She was sure she looked flustered and she could have kicked herself for not steeling her nerves before facing Lord Gabriel Thurston, the Earl of Tullering.

She was pleased with the sound of cold detachment in her voice. “Tullering, what on earth are you doing in my garden in the middle of the night?”

“One might ask you the same question, Lady Belinda.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, loosening it from the ribbon. His cravat had come loose and his evening clothes were crushed. There was something dangerous about an unkempt Gabriel. The gesture was a sign of frustration from the earl. She’d seen it many times.

Her heart raced and she swallowed the panic welling in her gut. “This is my home, my lord. You do not live here. If I am not mistaken you have a home in London where you should be at this late hour.”

“You are my fiancée.” Even in the moonlight, his face and neck burned red.

“There is no need to remind me.”

He stepped from the terrace onto the cobbled path where she stood. He loomed over her and filled the air with a mixture of soap, spice and something else male and formidable. The scent was intrinsically Gabriel and entirely delicious.

She was tempted to back away, but forced herself to hold her ground. Her stubbornness did not stop her heart from racing or her skin from tingling at his nearness.

“Oh, but I think there is a need.” He circled behind her, his mouth inches from her ear.

She set her teeth. “I am well aware of the contract signed between you and my father four years ago, my lord. I was there when it was signed and I was also there when you left for the continent.” The day he left for the war came flooding back, and so did the memories of her unanswered letters, and the tears she had cried over him. Well, there would be no tears tonight.

“You are angry with me for fighting for our country?” He took a step back.

“No.”

“But you are angry.”

“You might have written since your concern for our relationship is so evident.” She’d wanted to sound flippant, but she sounded brooding. She’d been hurt by his silence, and had little hope of hiding the fact.

“I wrote,” he said.

She was pleased the subject had changed to something more defensible. “Three letters in four years can hardly be considered correspondence, my lord.”

“You use to call me Gabriel.” He murmured.

She stepped away in spite of the pleasant shiver his voice produced. “That was a long time ago.” She made to climb the terrace steps away from him.

“There is still the question of why my fiancée is sneaking through the garden at four in the morning.”

She turned ready to blast him about having no right to ask her anything. Her words stuck in her throat.

In the full moonlight, he took her breath away. He was tall and broad and his hair hung loose around his face.

In spite of her anger, she wanted desperately to touch his hair and see if it was still as soft as it looked. “I come and go as I please.”

“So I see,” he said. “Perhaps then, you would be willing to explain why your dress is six inches deep with mud, why your hair looks as if you’ve been tossing in the sheets, how you got that smudge of dirt on your lovely face, or the hole in those gloves you were just lamenting?”

She wiped some dried mud from her cheek. The resulting dull pain told her she had revealed a bruise beneath.

His eyes widened and he flew up the steps.

She stepped back. She couldn’t harm Gabriel so she lifted one arm as if to dull a blow.

He froze, staring down at her.

It had been instinct. The last few years had taught her that no one is immune to violence. A woman must learn to defend herself. If he had been anyone else, she’d have struck him rather than shield herself against an angry fist. She lowered her arm and looked into his piercing eyes. Her heart pounded. She had made an error.

“Do you truly think I would strike you?”

Now that she was thinking clearly again, she hardly knew why she had defended herself. It was foolish. Gabriel would never strike her. Her environment had tainted her. She attempted to remain cold in her explanation. “I hardly know what to think, my lord. We no longer know each other.”

When he touched the tender bruise, she winced, but did not back away.

“And this, Bella, would you care to explain this to me?” His voice was soft and his touch feather-like, but his eyes narrowed and his posture remained unyielding.

She brushed his touch aside. “Do not call me that.”

“You use to like that name.”

“That was also a long time ago.”

“Not so long,” he whispered. He gazed out into the garden as if lost in some distant memory. His attention returned to her. “I am waiting for some kind of response from you, Lady Belinda.”