Entice Me at Twilight Page 5

Page 5

 

  "Hes got it bad," Ice muttered.

  Duke swallowed--and didnt say a word. Why refute the truth?

  "All right, then," Bram relented, clearly against his better judgment. "Marrok and I will find the people on the guest list youve marked. Thankfully, thats a mere handful.

  You deal with the workers and Felicia. Meet us in the chapel in ten minutes. "

  Though he disliked it, Duke didnt have any more appealing options. He must find the Untouchable and whisk him or her away before Mathias and the Anarki descended.

  "I should call off the wedding entirely, for safetys sake. " Duke liked that idea--a great deal.

  "Cant," Bram argued. "If you do, people will leave, and youll never find the Untouchable. As soon as we discern their identity, then well halt the wedding and send everyone home. "

  "Indeed. " Then reality hit him. How could he do that without disappointing his mother? Mason would hate him even more. And the stunning Felicia? He grimaced.

  Did he have a choice?

  Bram clapped him on the back. "I know this is difficult, but its for the best. "

  Right. Then why did he have this knotted feeling in his gut that his life was about to change forever?

  Knowing the die had been cast, Duke turned and left his bedroom. At the bottom of the stairs, Ice fell in step at his shoulder, wearing an expression that said poor bastard.

  Duke did his best to ignore it.

  Quickly, he hunted up the florist, the cake decorator, and the wedding planner, all of whom his mother had insisted he meet in the past few days, hinting that she hoped he might require their services soon. One by one, he quickly reacquainted himself with them, ostensibly to ensure everything went smoothly. After he touched each individual, Ice simply shook his head. Within minutes, theyd run through most of their list and come up empty-handed.

  "It must be one of the guests," Ice declared as they left the kitchen.

  "Or the minister. " Or worse, the bride.

  The thought of Felicia in the middle of this war made Duke sick as hell. Please God, anyone else . . .

  Exiting the kitchen, they headed for the chapel, his guts in knots. Duke had walked perhaps twenty meters down the corridor when the flock of young beauties darted for him again. He groaned. Not now . . .

  Through the window behind him, a flashbulb went off. Paparazzi, damn them.

  Duke had little doubt these images would appear on some tabloid or another come morning.

  At his side, Ice chuckled. "Right hell to be so popular. Are these the same girls who surrounded you earlier?"

  "I think so. " He hadnt looked that closely.

  Searching for a gentle but insistent way to throw them off, Duke said, "Ladies, there will be plenty of time after the--"

  One pressed her lips to his, cutting him off in mid-sentence. Another stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, then whispered exactly what shed like to do to him if only they had a bit of privacy. She wasnt shy. The rest swarmed around, not allowing him an inch of air.

  Bloody hell! Not that he hadnt experienced such unladylike behavior before, but at his brothers wedding, steps outside the chapel?

  As he tried to jerk free, someone shoved the women aside with a feminine growl, then grabbed him by the arm and whirled him around. Felicia, in white lace, surrounded by a halo of golden curls. And she looked furious.

  "Are you mad or simply unable to control your libido for a few minutes? Im attempting to have an important conversation, and your behavior is disruptive. I dont know how your mother or brother abide this. Mason says youre forty-three; you act sixteen. "

  She sent a severe scowl to the women still hovering about, trying to gain his attention. "You all have seats somewhere. Find them!"

  The women backed away--though not happily. At the moment, Duke could have kissed her for freeing him. Hell, he wanted to kiss her anyway. Deeply. Lips, tongues, clothes dropping to the floor as he lowered her to the bed . . .

  No, I must not think that about Masons bride.

  "You will not embarrass Mason or your mother this way," Felicia vowed in a low-voiced breath. "This stops now, or Ill throw you out myself. "

  Too bad Duke was too distracted by the fact that, this close, he could see the glistening of Felicias pouty red lips under their gloss . . . and right down the front of her gown to the sweet swells of her breasts. Heat ripped through his blood. Need compelled him. Grab her. Take her. Possess her. The words were a chant in his brain, loud and getting louder until he could scarcely remember why he was resisting.

  Honor. Family harmony.

  Damn it. He sighed.

  Felicia gripped his elbow tighter and pursed her plump lips in displeasure. Bloody hell, she smelled like gardenia and woman. Duke only got harder. Blast it, he hoped his dinner jacket covered that. Somehow, he had to keep his hands to himself because her light floral-musky scent was driving him mad.

  "Are you listening?" she demanded.

  At his side, Ice cleared his throat and cast a sidelong glance at Felicia, then a meaningful glance at Dukes magical signature. "We have a winner. "

  Chapter 3

  FELICIA GLARED AT H URSTGROVE, trying to rein in her temper. A sharp rebuke sat on the tip of her tongue. She pursed her lips together to hold it in, refusing to create an even bigger scene.

  God, but the man got under her skin. Moments ago, she and Mason had been in a quiet corner, and shed been desperately trying to decide her future. Marry Mason . . . or not? Shed been interrupted by Hurstgroves antics. Even the friends hed brought along caused gasps and raised brows. His blond chum had been intimidating enough, but she certainly would never have pictured His Grace running about with a tattooed, stubble-headed giant who looked more at home in back alleys. What the devil was going on?

  Hurstgrove stared back. Blood flooded her cheeks, and her chest rose harshly with each agitated breath. Unfortunately, her reaction wasnt entirely fueled by anger. Though she released his arm, she still couldnt manage to cool her sizzling blood.

  "Youre certain?" His Grace demanded of the other man, his mouth tight.

  The scary one crossed enormous arms over his chest, making one shoulder bulge through his filthy, torn sweater. "Yes. Sorry. "

  Hurstgrove clenched his fists and swore. Something grim and furious crossed his angular face.

  Felicia blinked, stared. Were they both touched in the head?

  "Ive no notion what youre on about with this winner comment, but could you give us some privacy, please?" She glared at the black-clad ruffian.

  The burly man shot Hurstgrove a look she couldnt decipher. "Duke?"

  Felicia frowned. Cheeky form of address.

  "Its what my friends call me. A joke," Hurstgrove explained, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tapped his toe in agitation. "Give us a minute, Ice. "

  "You have less than that. The clock is ticking," he said, backing away.

  Felicia was inclined to like Ice a bit more when he shooed the hovering flock of women toward the chapel, leaving her and Hurstgrove alone.

  Grabbing hold of both her temper and her wayward response to him, she paced into the shadows of the corridor, out of sight of any passing wedding guest. He followed.

  As soon as he hovered above her, all wide shoulders and dark stare, she drew in a shaky breath. Why had she imagined shuttling into a dark corner with Hurstgrove was wise?

  She fought against the edgy awareness that cramped her belly. "Cease this appalling behavior. As if arriving late after a brawl wasnt rude enough, your friends are wreaking havoc. I was attempting to sort through my future and--"

  "With the ceremony due to start any moment?" Hurstgrove looked at his watch.

  She bristled. Her indecision about marrying Mason was none of his affair. "Your mother and Mason are now attempting to deal with your friends, one of whom is a veritable giant wearing a sword. At a wedding! Hes forcing people to shake his hand. "

&n
bsp; His Grace grimaced. "Felicia--"

  "And you allowed those women to . . . molest you a few dozen meters from the altar. " The sight had burned itself into her brain, hurting when she knew it shouldnt. And that only made her more angry. "Its unforgivable. "

  He frowned. "I have never touched any of those women in my life. "

  She detected no acrid scent, and felt no unsettled stomach. So, he told the truth--

  this once. Small comfort. "Hardly noteworthy, given your generally deplorable behavior. "

  "I apologize, but I must talk to you about--"

  "When Im finished. " She poked a finger in his chest. "The paparazzi are peeking through the windows and having a grand time photographing the shocked expressions of your mothers friends. Shes quite beside herself. I know everyone bows and scrapes to you, and women throw themselves at your feet. Dont expect either from me. "

  Her face turned even more grim. "Its not my aim to upset you. This is . . .

  necessary. "

  A fresh wave of anger crashed through Felicia, and she welcomed it, hoping it would hold her awareness of him at bay. "Are you so arrogant that you must have attention? Do you need the cameras, the women, and the notoriety to feel fulfilled, Your Grace?"

  "What?" He recoiled, looking perplexed, then furious. " No. Im trying to tell you something but . . . bloody hell. Ive gone about this the wrong way. Sorry. "

  "Indeed. "

  He shrugged. "Im only human. "

  Felicia opened her mouth to argue with him. Then a familiar, biting scent burned her nostrils. An instant later, her stomach turned, and she put a hand over her queasy belly to steady herself.

  Hurstgrove lied--and the stench hadnt presented itself until his last three words.

  Not human? Impossible. Felicias mind raced. He looked like any other attractive man, though younger than his forty-three years suggested. Perhaps the whole evening--

  having Mason reveal his true feelings and His Grace making a scene--had thrown her senses off?

  "What did you say?" she demanded.

  "Im only human. I make mistakes. "

  Immediately, Felicias nostrils burned wildly again. Her stomach pitched as if she were in a rowboat in the midst of a hurricane. Gasping, she stared at him, wide eyed.

  The Duke of Hurstgrove was not human. What, then, was he?

  The horror on her face must have shown, because he grabbed her shoulders, his touch feverishly warm. A flurry of tingles barraged her. "Whats the matter? Are you nervous? Faint?" Understanding dawned, and he backed away. "No, youre frightened. "

  Of you.

  If she admitted that, how would he react? What was such an intimidating non-human capable of? If he knew that shed figured out his secret, what would he do to her?

  Heart pounding so hard she couldnt hear her own voice, Felicia muttered, "I-I must . . . repair my lipstick. "

  Before he could respond, she tore from his grasp and ran.

  As she disappeared up the stairs, Ice, who had been loitering outside the chapel, sauntered across the marble tiles toward Duke. "Apologizing, are you? Not a particularly effective tactic to tell the woman shes in danger. "

  Duke snorted. "You would have grabbed her and run without any thought of alienating your family, causing a scandal, or scaring the hell out of her. "

  The other wizard shrugged. "I dont have any family to alienate, I dont give a damn if I cause a scandal, and Id rather have my woman frightened than dead. "

  "Shes not mine. "

  A sly smile crept across his face. "Is that what youre telling yourself?"

  "Piss off. I cant do what you would have done. My situation is more complicated. "

  Ice didnt say a word, just took a long look around him at the marble tile, perfectly plastered walls, and muraled ceilings. The original estate had been built by one of Dukes ancestors in the mid-sixteenth century. Over the years, the house had been expanded, altered, sections demolished and rebuilt. The chapel was part of that original structure, now overlooking the lush gardens his mother took great pains to oversee. The rest of the house maintained that stiff, museum-quality look. Duke had considered turning the estate over to the National Trust, but his mother loved living here.

  Now seeing the estate through Ices eyes, a wizard who had grown up in a series of caves . . . Duke winced. Ice couldnt possibly understand his responsibilities.

  "I always thought Bram had ostentatiousness down to a fine art, but you make him look like an amateur. "

  "I didnt decorate--" Frustration crashed in, and Duke raked a hand through his hair. "Never mind. Focus on Felicia. I dont want her out of our sight. The Anarki may appear at any moment. Well try this your way, but I must persuade Mason to call off this wedding so we can get everyone else out of here. "

  Ice raised a dark, bushy brow. "How?"

  "No idea. " Regardless of what anyone said, Mason would likely refuse.

  Damn it, Duke wished he could simply confess that he was a wizard. But Mason would only think him a nutter. Even if he could convince his brother, Mason wouldnt even abide having a Liberal Democrat in the house, so Duke couldnt imagine what hed think about someone magical.

  With a slap on the back, Ice shot him a pitying look. "Good luck. Would you like me to fetch Felicia?"