Luck of the Wolf (18 page)

“There is only one way to account for it,” she said. “There are two princesses.”

Yuri had already been prepared for just that answer, but it still jarred him like a billy club to the back of the skull. “Two princesses,” he muttered.

“It makes perfect sense,” Babette said. “A queen desperate to save her children from a ruthless enemy. One child sent to America. The other raised in obscurity in the mountains of Carantia, with no knowledge of the existence of her own kind or kin, forbidden to venture into the more populated areas where someone might recognize her….”

It did make sense, he had to admit. Clever to send one heir to the opposite side of the world, leaving the other hidden under the very nose of her potential enemies. Di Reinardus had certainly never suspected there might be more than one princess. There had never been even a single rumor to that effect.

“But why did her guardian bring her to American now?” Yuri asked. “Alese disappeared years ago. Did
he
know of her? Could there have been some new movement from the loyalists to regain the throne, perhaps among these Carantians she was to meet?”

“Aria certainly can't tell us,” Babette said. “She has never indicated that she knows anything of Carantian royalty, past or present.”

“And these Carantians were obviously not in San Francisco. Cort is aware of every werewolf in the city, and he never mentioned foreigners.”

“Perhaps they had moved to another location.”

Perhaps. Di Reinardus had never mentioned anything about them, either. The Reniers had hidden the princess for years; di Reinardus had told Yuri of their connection to the Carantian di Reinardii before the abduction, which explained their willingness to conceal and protect the true heir to the throne.

But they could not have restored her to her rightful place without the aid of the Carantians themselves, and Yuri had never seen any sign of such men in New Orleans. They could hardly be a threat if they could not be found.

In any case, their existence was not at issue now. Gunther di Reinardus's ambitions were all that mattered. How in hell did Babette think they could use Aria's existence to trick di Reinardus? Yuri would still have to deliver a girl with a certain birthmark to the duke at the proper time.

Oh, di Reinardus would be surprised, perhaps even shocked, to learn the girl was not Alese, but he would quickly overcome such feelings and forge ahead with his plans. He might have lost one princess, but a twin sister would do just as well.

“Yuri?” Babette said. “Are you listening to me? If we could stall di Reinardus and find these Carantians, it might be possible to stop him. Together with the Reniers, we could—”

“Stall di Reinardus? He has men in Placerville even now, waiting for me to send the signal that we are ready to turn Alese over to them.”

“Hear me out, Yuri. If we were to tell Cort the truth about di Reinardus and make Aria understand who she is…”

“You are insane, woman!” Yuri swung toward her and took her by the shoulders, digging his fingers into her tender flesh. “If you value our lives, say
nothing
of this to Cort. Do you know what he would do if he even suspected the deal I've made with di Reinardus? He would kill me and take Aria straight to New Orleans.”

“Knowing that the duke would surely follow?”

“You expect rationality from a man driven by passions
you know nothing about. When he first agreed to return Lucienne to the Reniers, he did not do it merely for the reward we would claim. He did it for a far more primitive reason. Revenge.”

“Qua?”

“You heard me. Eight years ago he had a lover from within the family, a woman he believed would marry him. She rebuffed him instead.”

Babette gave him an incredulous look. “That is all?”

“How can you, with all your vast experience, doubt how far jealousy and hatred will drive a man?”

“But why hatred?
Why
did this woman reject him? He is a gentleman, very handsome and
loup-garou
. He is, to be sure, not a wealthy man, but…” She rubbed her bare arms. “Did she have another suitor?”

“Doubtless she did, but that was hardly the issue. He was not one of
them,
Babette.”

Her expression cleared. “Of course. He belongs to one of the other Renier clans. And that was enough cause for this woman to reject him?”

“More than enough.”

“And yet in all this time, Cort has never indicated…” She shook her head. “I can scarcely believe a man of his obvious stature would let himself carry a grudge so violent that he would still be seeking revenge after so many years.”

A man of his stature
. Yuri chuckled. “Your ignorance of
loups-garous
blinds you. The New Orleans Reniers have little to do with any of the other clans, but there is one branch they despise above all others. Cort Renier was born in the bayous, one of the “mud Reniers,” as the city Reniers call them. They are said to be more wolf than human. Cort—Beau, as he called himself
then—was an unlearned, unwashed boy when Madeleine Renier amused herself by dallying with him.”

“Cort was…not a gentleman?”

“No more than you were a lady. He looked above his station, and the New Orleans clan could not forgive him. They beat him and threw him out on his ear when he dared offer marriage. He is not one to forget such a humiliation.”

“But his behavior now…his manner, his speech…”

“I made him into what he is today. Though I admit he was an extraordinarily good student. He came to despise his low origins as much as those who rejected him. He even turned away from the werewolf in himself, just as the New Orleans clan have done. He was determined to become in every way their equal, and the ignorant world would doubtless say he has succeeded.”

It took Babette several long moments to absorb this shocking new information. “So Cort intends to flaunt the fact that he found the girl when none of the Reniers could do so, as well as demand money for her return,” she murmured.

“He intends to force them to acknowledge him as an equal,” Yuri said.

“And he believes that will make him happy?”

“What is happiness? He can never return to what he was. Revenge is all he has left.”

Babette turned in a slow circle, head bent in thought. “You speak of passions, Yuri, but there are others just as powerful as hatred, as
I
have cause to know. Have you never noticed the attraction that exists between Aria and Cort?”

Yuri stared at her. He had made a stab in the dark when he'd accused Cort of “dalliance” with Aria on the way to the lodge, but he hadn't really believed that any
such thing had happened. Cort knew what was at stake. Oh, he might lust after the girl and seek to avoid her for that reason, but he would never ruin their scheme because he couldn't keep his cock inside his trousers.

Or would he?

“I've noticed it,” Yuri said shortly, “but Cort would never jeopardize our plans by—”

“Why should he consider it jeopardizing your plans?” Babette asked with a mocking quirk of her lips. “He could hurt the Reniers even more by making Aria his lover.”

“Are you saying that they—”

Yuri struck the bedpost with his fist. Cort would not have made such a decision on his own. He and Yuri were partners. They were…

Friends?

But are you not ready to betray him?
he asked himself.
Why should he not do the same to you if his self-interest demands it?

“Could he have made the girl pregnant?” he demanded.

“I do not think it has gone quite that far,” she said.

“I will speak to Cort,” Yuri said. “I'll make him tell me—”

“You are too angry,” Babette said. “You will not improve the situation by attacking him.”

Yuri had to admit that she was right. Oh, di Reinardus would be furious if Cort had taken Aria's virginity, but there was no reason Yuri had to tell him,
or
confront Cort about it. Even if the girl
was
pregnant, Yuri had no intention of being anywhere on this continent by the time it became obvious. The whole matter would soon be out of his hands.

“I will wait,” Yuri said.

“There are some things that cannot wait,” she said. “I would not have become a part of this if I had known that Aria was to become a tool for vengeance. I am not proud that I was prepared to take money to teach her so that you could sell her back to the Reniers. But I thought then that she was Lucienne Renier. Nothing is as I believed it to be.” She met his gaze. “It has gone too far, Yuri. We must tell them.”

Yuri got up, strode across the room and seized Babette by the shoulders once again.

“It's too late to back out now,” he said, giving her a hard shake. “Do you understand me, Babette? Say nothing to Cort or Aria, not a single hint of anything we have discussed.”

She blinked, and he knew she understood how very serious he was. “I will say nothing,” she whispered.

Yuri let her go. “Good. Now you are being sensible. You must give me time to consider all you have told me.” He tucked his chin into his chest. “Perhaps there is a way.”

It was hardly a promise, but Babette offered no further argument and left the room without a backward glance.

He was glad of that. He had not controlled her nearly as well as he had hoped, expecting that her love for him would be enough. He should have remembered how incredibly stubborn she could be.

Still, she would not betray him. However strong her feelings for Aria, she was not prepared to abandon him. No matter what he decided to do next.

T
HE NEW LESSONS
began the next evening.

Babette had considered the situation long and hard, but in the end there had been only one possible decision.

In spite of her promise to Aria, she had felt compelled to reveal some of the other woman's secrets to Yuri in hopes that he could be persuaded to turn against di Reinardus. Now she was glad she had. Yuri had said he would reconsider his plans, and she had learned a few essential facts that gave her a new and very vital perspective on the entire situation.

The entirely unexpected information about Cort's desire for revenge had altered everything. In spite of his cold behavior, Babette was no longer in any doubt that he felt far more for Aria than he was willing to reveal, and she was equally sure that it was not merely a question of lust. Whatever he and Aria had done together in the past, Cort had chosen to reject her rather than use her as he so easily could have done.

Gentleman or no, he was
not
without honor. And that gave Babette hope. If there was any way out of this grotesque mélange of greed, competing schemes, revenge and hidden identities, there was one emotion that made life worth living.

Love.

People in love made sacrifices for their loved ones.
A man in love would protect his lady against anyone who would harm or use her for any purpose. He would do whatever was necessary to see to her happiness.

Cort might not be an aristocrat. He was certainly not without his own considerable flaws of character. But he could save Aria from Yuri and di Reinardus or anyone else who sought to use her. Once he understood who and what she was, he alone might give Aria the chance to choose her own future.

And Aria would have to make such a choice, a choice that would define her life forever, once she learned the truth.

Babette knew in her heart that Aria would be better off if she were never to meet the Reniers or these mysterious Carantians—if di Reinardus were to vanish, and she never had to deal with the ambitions and desires of those involved in the politics of a country divided. Aria clearly had no knowledge of royalty, nor could she possibly conceive of what the life of a princess might be like. She hated the bonds of formality and ceremony, and loved her freedom almost too dearly—freedom she would surely lose if she ever became a princess in truth.

Yes. It would be better for Aria, far better, if she rejected such a future. And if she were willing to forgo the dubious privileges of royalty—if Cort loved her enough—he would also be free to forget old wounds and become who
he
was meant to be. Not a man desperate to assume the very image of his enemy, but one at peace with himself, his past and his future.

But first Cort had to recognize the depth of his feelings for Aria. If desire was the only way to make him acknowledge such feelings, then Aria's own plan for revenge could become a means of reconciliation.

And so, after the next day's regular lessons were finished, Babette began to teach Aria the ways of seduction.

 

“Y
OU ARE READY
,” Babette said at the end of the seventh day. “We might refine technique, of course, but there is no more I can teach you. Your instincts will do the rest.”

Aria closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out again. It had been a strange and exhilarating week. Neither Cort nor Yuri was aware of what went on when the women retired to Babette's room. Cort stayed away except when Babette expressly asked for his assistance, and Yuri continued to drink. If they saw any change in Aria, it was only because she put extra effort into her “lady lessons.”

Sometimes Aria was astonished by what she learned about sex. Nothing really upset her, though she was sometimes puzzled by the various things a woman did to arouse a man.

But was it so different from what Cort had done to
her?
She could still recall every moment of their time together in exquisite detail. He had made her feel very, very good. And she quickly decided that the “tricks” Babette taught her would be pleasurable for her as well as for Cort. After the first few days she had found herself squirming from the constant ache between her legs and envisioning everything Babette described with eager anticipation.

It made less sense to her than ever that any woman would be ashamed to do these things, as Babette had suggested more than once. But she took Babette's word that she must always be cautious about whom she spoke
to about her newfound skills. Her “family” would certainly never know.

Now, as Aria contemplated the night to come and the sweetness of revenge, Babette stood by the window, very quiet and oddly subdued.

“You must understand,” the other woman said, “that there is no guarantee of success. It may be that Cort will not respond.”

Aria pulled her hair forward over her face and looked through the golden veil. “You said that no man would be able to resist me.”

“What you are about to do may hurt you as well as Cort.”

But Aria had already faced the worst that could happen. “Once it is over,” she said, “he can never hurt me again.”

“Very well.” Babette sighed. “You will borrow my nightdress. It is far more…provocative than yours. It will certainly catch Cort's attention. After that…”

It would be up to Aria.

That night at dinner Aria was far too excited to eat. Once or twice Cort glanced across the table with a slight frown, as if he wondered what was going through her mind. She had been very careful with her table manners and everything else Babette had taught her. She wanted Cort to see her as composed and elegant and flawlessly correct.

She wanted Cort to be surprised when he found her in his room.

As usual, Cort went out into the woods after dinner. Aria had often wondered what he did when he wasn't hunting for fresh meat, but she knew better than to follow him. He would not welcome her company.

Tonight, that would change.

Near midnight, at the time when Aria usually heard Cort return to the lodge, she bathed and put on Babette's sleeveless nightgown. The sheer silk and lace flowed over her body like a second skin, a single layer that was as soft and light as her own nightgown was thick and heavy. It made her feel daring. And irresistible.

Careful to make sure that Yuri didn't see her—though she doubted he could see anything, since he had drunk too much again—Aria crept down the hall and into Cort's room. His scent was everywhere. She wandered around the dark room, touching the few objects that belonged to him: the two good suits he wore when he was indoors, his shaving kit, his traveling bag. Then she lay facedown on his bed and drank in the smell of the sheets, burrowing as deep as she could and squeezing the pillow against her chest.

Her nipples grew hard, and she moaned. The sound of the front door brought her out of her wonderful dream. Her heart began to race like a wolf on a rabbit's tail. Taking a deep breath, she got off the bed, smoothed her gown and listened as Cort climbed the stairs.

She heard him pause outside the bedroom door. He could smell her now; perhaps he thought it was only the scent drifting from her room or lingering in the hallway. She held her breath. The door handle turned.

Cort took a step into the room, saw her and froze. Aria tried to smile seductively, but all she could do was look at his face, at the way it changed from shock to uncertainty to something she had wanted very badly to see.

But he didn't come to her. He didn't open his arms and embrace her and kiss her. His expression closed, and he backed away, bumping hard into the door frame as he fumbled his way out of the room.

No
. Aria stared at the empty doorway, sick inside. It couldn't end this way. She wouldn't let it.

Clenching her fists, she started toward the door. She was nearly there when Cort strode back into the room. Without a word he seized her and kissed her with bruising force. She laced her hands in his hair and answered with a kiss fully as ferocious as his own.

 

H
E SHOULD HAVE
seen it coming.

Cort drew back, licking Aria's sweet taste from his lips. His mind was in a daze, his body entirely out of his control. Only a small part of him was sane enough to realize how stupid he had been.

All his efforts to escape his desire had failed. There was no way to outrun it. There was no forgetting that day on the way to the lodge, even if he'd really wanted to.

Aria was far more than merely beautiful now. He had seen her naked, but in the sheer nightdress she was a wanton goddess, blond hair sweeping over her bare arms, brown nipples pushing against the silk like emerging buds in spring. She was every man's dream of the perfect lover, eager to give him all he could possibly desire.

“Cort,” she murmured.

His name was an invitation, a whisper of seduction. He had known for weeks that she was no longer the girl he'd once thought her, but in his mind he had refused to let her become fully a woman.

Now there was no doubt. She was a woman, and she had become a lady. A lady she had left behind in the drawing room, as she had discarded her ladylike garments for the wisp of fabric that left almost nothing to the imagination.

Cort took a step back. Aria murmured a protest.

“Let me look at you,” he said, hardly aware of the growl in his voice.

Aria blushed a little, but her bold gaze never left his. He let himself look his fill, taking in the lush fullness of her lips, the column of her graceful neck and the pulse beating so fast under her velvet skin, the strong but unmistakably feminine slope of her shoulders.

And below, where her breasts swelled and peaked, revealing her own desire just as her shining eyes did. Her slender waist, which had never needed a corset. The shadow between her thighs, as pale as her hair.

Aria ran her hands over her body, molding the silk to her belly and hips and thighs. “Do you like it?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, trying to catch his breath.

“The nightgown,” she said.

“It's…lovely,” he said hoarsely.

“I thought you'd think so,” she said.

Laughter lodged in his throat. Was that what concerned her? Whether or not he liked her nightgown?

He closed his eyes. He had one more chance to walk away. A thread of discipline, more fragile than a spider's web, still stretched behind him through the open doorway.

Why was she doing this? Had she abandoned pride entirely? Was she trying to trap him into something they would both regret?

Even if she was, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He heard Aria move, felt her hands brush his chest. He never wore a collar, tie, vest or coat when he went out to the woods; there was no one there for whom to play the gentleman. Aria's small fingers began to
work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing the uppermost and tracing the exposed skin with her fingernail.

Cort ground his teeth as she replaced her fingers with her mouth, kissing his skin as she worked at the second button. As she undid each one she left a trail of little kisses, and when the placket was open she reached inside and cupped his pectorals, rubbing her thumbs over his nipples in slow, deliberate circles.

Cort swallowed, not daring to watch what she was doing. Where in hell had she learned all this? The first time they'd been together, he'd taken charge, and she had accepted what he had to give without trying to return the favor. Her few attempts had been tentative and awkward, though she had enjoyed his attentions with shameless abandon.

There was nothing awkward about her now. She tugged the tail of his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, pushed it up and kissed him again, first under the arch of his ribs and then lower, stroking her hands up and down his back.

He had been at full attention the instant he'd seen her in his room, but the pain became more acute with every caress. When she began to unbutton his trousers, he was too stunned to stop her. There were no undergarments to contain him, and in a blistering moment of shock he felt her hands on him, closing around him, working up and down with exquisite gentleness.

The thread of discipline snapped as she took him into her mouth, enfolding him in warmth and wetness. She knew exactly what to do, though he had been certain she'd never been with another man. Her tongue danced, and he could feel himself edging closer and closer to completion.

But he refused to let himself go. Instead, he stepped
back, though it nearly killed him to do it, and swept Aria up in his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck, licking the perspiration from the hollow of his throat. He could smell her arousal, an aphrodisiac as potent as her mouth on his cock.

It would have been the work of seconds to part her thighs and take her. But the instant he had her on her back she slipped away, supple as a mink, and somehow ended up on top of him.

“There's no hurry,” she purred into his ear, her hair sweeping over him. “I am not finished.”

No words from any woman's lips had ever seemed so exciting. She quickly followed promise with action, beginning with a deep, lingering kiss and an eager welcoming of his tongue into her mouth.

But she didn't let him get any further. Her small, strong hands pressed down on his shoulders as she proceeded to caress him with her lips and tongue in a manner almost identical to the way he had pleasured her in the woods.

It was quite a different experience, however, to be on the receiving end. Women had done such things to him before, but not with such complete devotion. Aria treated every inch of his flesh as if it were the rarest delicacy. She found his nipples, teasing them with her teeth, and then continued to the hollow beneath his ribs and the ridges of his stomach. Each little bite left a delicious sting in its wake.

Again he tried to roll her over, very much afraid that he wouldn't be able to control his body much longer. Aria proved just how well she could resist him when she'd set her mind on it. Lower and lower with lips and tongue and teeth until she sucked him in again.