The Wolf and the Rose: Howls Romance by Marianne Morea

Author:Marianne Morea [Morea, Marianne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Delia pretended to fuss with the bedclothes, fluffing a pillow to put behind Stefan’s head. She needed to speak with Maja, but there was no way she was giving up the opportunity to be alone with the man occupying her dreams.

“I heal very quickly, cara mia. Don’t trouble yourself. Come… Sit with me.” He patted the soft mattress.

Stefan’s voice was deep and musical. He smiled and his dimples lit up his gorgeous face. And that accent, and the way he said her name. She was barely paying attention when he continued.

“You really don’t recall the time we spent together?” His fingers trailed her bare forearm beneath her bell sleeve.

“No.” Her eyes met his, and she was suddenly very sorry Maja chose to wipe the memories of her prior life.

“But you remembered my kiss.” His gorgeous mouth tipped up in a teasing in smile. “In vino veritas, little flower. Perhaps I should freshen your memory.”

He gently touched her cheek, and his hungry gaze made her nervous. In a good way. In a I don’t want this to end kind of way.

Was it reckless to want this? Technically, she’d known him for centuries, so it wasn’t sex with a stranger. Plus, she’d been dreaming about him. Not someone like him. HIM. Explicit, panty-soaking dreams. By twenty-first century standards, she was practically a nun. She doubted the sixteenth century would agree. By their standards she was shameless, but she didn’t care.

Stefan leaned in and inhaled. “Your scent is unlike any, Delia. If you weren’t to be my wife, the perfume of your skin would drive me to possess you by any means.”

She swallowed hard. “You smell pretty good yourself. I mean once you get past the pong of Maja’s home remedy. I know she said it would help heal you, but with the garlic and the oregano oil, you smell a little like supper’s ready.”

He slipped his hand behind her head, the way he did in her dream. “And I am ready. Yet food isn’t what I crave.”

Lifting her chin, she met his unnerving stare. “Stefan, you should lie back and rest or your wound won’t heal properly.”

“Milady DeRosa.” His grin was both sexy and predatory. “If you wanted me prone, you need only ask. My wound will heal, but my need won’t abate. Not with you close enough to taste.”

Something rumbled deep in his chest, and his eyes flashed a shade of gold she’d never seen. They weren’t amber or honey brown. They shimmered.

It had to be an optical illusion. The windows on this side of the house were full west, and the clock had to be well past four pm. Autumn’s fire. It’s what her mother called the sun’s orange glow as it waned toward dusk.

Stefan’s fingers slipped from the nape of her neck to caress the plump of her breasts above her tight bodice. The feel of his hand sent electric currents through to her lower belly.

Without warning, he scooped her onto his lap like she weighed no more than a feather.

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