Instinct (6 page)

Sighing out my
frustration, I leaned away, to a safer distance from her seductive
pull, and settled in to listen to the sound of her voice. For then,
at least, just being near her would suffice.

***

Between the
back of the establishment and the rear of the barber shop, rotten
fruit and faeces littered the alley, and even what appeared to be
forgotten underwear lay soiled and stiff a small way along—all of
them guilty of creating an unsavoury odour. However, as much as I
might have been ready to depart, the noises through the window
above told me Giles had yet to finish, so, settling in to wait, I
leaned against the wall and thought of Jem as distraction.

Still an
enigma, she made me feel more than any woman ever had before, yet,
despite my body screaming out for release at only the mere hint of
her scent, I forced myself to withdraw each time I saw her. I just
had no idea why.

Also, my
intrigue to hear every word her lips uttered, whatever the subject
or tone, left me perplexed. When had I ever cared for female
conversation?

Or maybe I had
become so advanced in just taking what I needed, I had never paused
to hear any thoughts they might voice. That or none of them had
ever made me
want
to pause.

Not like
Jem.

Those eyes of
hers, too—one glance into their depths could render me hypnotised.
By a
female
. The art of entrancement had always been my own,
but Jem?

As I recalled
how she had looked at me after I kissed her goodbye, stiffening
occurred within my trousers below—until something soft landed on my
head and flopped into my eyes.

Shaking my head
free, I tilted upward, to see Giles peering down at me, his face
bearing a wide grin.

“You are
cutting it fine,” he said.

“Actually, you
are.” I pulled his crumpled shirt from where it clung to my
shoulder and leaped up. With my hands braced on the window frame, I
hooked a leg over and climbed inside. “I have been waiting for you
to finish.”

He chuckled as
he pulled his trousers to his waist and secured them. Leaning
across, he tugged my own shirt from my waistband. “You had better
get this off.” When I stared at him, he moved closer and lowered
his voice to a murmur only I would pick up. “You reek of her, Sean.
At least try to mask the scent with this woman’s.” He nodded to
Mary.

“I have no wish
to have sex with her.”

“Then, don’t.
But do something. You cannot go out to James smelling as you
do.”

***

A roll upon the
covers of Mary’s bed turned out to be a sufficient guise for Jem’s
scent, leaving me almost grateful for her steady intake of clients.
Giles left by the same route through which he arrived, long before
I left with my brother. Mary even agreed to make it a weekly
arrangement—one which Mrs Carson made a huge fuss over, ensuring
the message received by James conveyed where I ‘should’ be each
Tuesday.

When I retired
that night, I did so with hope and a smile.

The following four weeks arrived and passed without
incident or interruption to our time. Jem and I met without a
hitch, and our moments of intimacy gradually increased, encouraged
by her.

On the fifth
week, as I awaited Jem in the forest opposite her home, the closing
of a door echoed across the open space. Instantly inhaling, I drew
in her scent, generously sent as a gift by the gale, and caught
sight of her as she rounded the second oak.

As she moved,
the swish of her skirt revealing the pace at which she walked, her
head faced forward, eyes searching. She managed a few steps closer,
before the slamming of a door resounded through the air.

“Jem
Stonehouse! Come back this instant, young lady!”

Although beyond
my view, the tone identified Jem’s mother as the one shouting, and
Jem’s step faltered. For a moment, I thought she considered
obeying, but she lifted her hems and darted forward into a run
toward the forest.

Despite the
situation, I smiled.

“
Jem
!”

At the second
call from her mother, Jem raced faster, and I stood poised for her
to reach me.

With breaths
laboured, she burst through brush and bracken, her cheeks high in
colour. Releasing one side of her skirt, she offered her hand, her
lips spread wide with a smile.

“Run,” she
said, through panted breath.

Drawing her in
front of me, I tucked an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up.
Dust kicked into the air with each foot pummel, as I raced away,
holding my prize tight to my body.

“I will be in
awful trouble for this when I get home,” she said, her breathing
soon a little steadier.

I chuckled at
the brightness of her eyes. “We had better make the most of every
second, then.”

Deeper into the
forest, once certain we had lost our pursuer, I slowed to a stroll,
and she smiled up from my arms. “My legs are in perfect working
order.”

My lips
twitched, and I tightened my hold until I held her at chest level.
“I am sure they are.”

The
exaggerated, upward roll of her stare would have been effective had
her expression not held humour, and I chuckled in response. “You
must be tiring.”

“Not really.” I
continued to walk. “However, if you wish me to put you down, you
need only ask. Is that your wish?”

Her eyes stole
my attention before she lowered her lids. “No. I am quite
comfortable.”

With the slide
of her hand, from my shoulder to the nape of my neck, she rested
her head in its absence, and the freshly washed scent of her hair
drifted upward to my nostrils.

Had I not been
so content with the situation, I might have given a low groan of
frustration.

Minutes of
walking took us to our regular meeting place. Moss coated the
bank-hugging mulch, giving off a pungent aroma not altogether
unpleasant, as I set her back on her feet near our trunk.

“So, what would
possess you to behave this disobediently toward your mother?” I
asked, ensuring her steadiness before releasing my hold.

Although her
breathing had long before eased, the smile sparkling her eyes had
yet to vanish. “Because I believe she is wrong in her opinions of
you.”

“And what would
those opinions be?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew the
answer.

“Which version
would you prefer?”

Wary that Jem
knew of my secret, I frowned, my pulse lurching, as I said with
caution, “The worst.”

“She says you
are a cad and a philanderer ... amongst others, of course.”

When she sat
and patted the bark beside her, I took my place and turned to lie
back until my head rested upon her lap. “Yet, you disagreed?”

“Not at first.”
Working her fingers into my hair, she peered down at me, her
expression growing serious. “But you have changed, somewhat, since
our first meeting.”

My breaths
calmed with her therapeutic tousling. “In what way?”

“I am no fool,”
she said. “I do not doubt you have treated women with disrespect,
merely to suit your own needs, or that you have taken as many as
your reputation suggests, yet ... I have received no behaviour from
you to cause me alarm.”

“Perhaps I find
your conversation, alone, entertainment enough.” Of course, her
scent had a lot to do with it, also. “I am never bored by your
words.” Her voice often remained with me even after darkness fell.
“It feels almost a misdeed to steal the dignity of one who—”

“Who amuses you
so?” She smiled.

“There is
that,” I said with a small laugh. “But, if you let me finish, I
would have said, it feels wrong to steal the dignity of one who has
become so much a part of me she consumes my every waking hour.”

Her smile
vanished, her eyebrows arching, before she looked away. “I, too,
have feelings for you, Mr Holloway, and fear they will only
continue to grow, as long as we spend time in each other’s
company.” She turned back to me. “Yet, I do not know why I fear
this. Love is surely an emotion to be embraced. Is it not?”

Heat surged
through me at her words—not from desire, but from her admittance of
her feelings for me—and, despite her grim delivery, I grinned.
“Yes, it is.”

***

She had laughed
on her entrance into the forest, looked excited by her mischief
even once we’d reached our special place, but the telling off she
had coming must have concerned her as the day wore on. Each time I
suggested returning home, Jem pleaded to remain a little
longer.

How could I
refuse? By telling her The Goat and Compass housed a whore who
expected my presence? I doubted the excuse would be well accepted,
however short or innocent a time I spent with Mary.

By
mid-afternoon, we admitted it would be best to return, having put
off the inevitable for long enough.

The breeze
swept through as though giving chase, on our walk back, sending
branches bowing to our passage. Announcing its entry upon the high
leaves, the rain broke through to pattern the ground.

Pimples dotted
Jem’s arms, even where she rubbed. Her shoulders shuddered, as the
rain found her, dampening her clothes and her hair, small beads
coating her brow.

I touched her
arm, hoping to lend heat. “You are cold.” In cotton, almost
transparent with moisture, no chill bothered me—a trait I often
took for granted.

“A little,” she
said.

“Would you like
me to warm you?”

Her quiet laugh
told me she had not taken the offer in the manner intended. “And
feed Mother’s dislike for you? I am certain she will be waiting. To
approach her whilst wrapped in your arms would not help our cause
one bit.”

“You are
right.” I went to smile, until an unwelcome scent drifted over me,
drawing my eyes away, and the expression died on my lips.
“Especially as your mother awaits you within the forest
boundary.”

The uncertainty
in Jem’s gaze held me, before she turned toward where my eyes were
aimed.

Not more than
thirty feet ahead, Mrs Stonehouse stood silhouetted by light from
beyond the forest, hands wringing at her waist as though afraid to
take a step closer.

Moments later,
the sighting stretched from mother to daughter, and Mrs
Stonehouse’s eyes filled with both fury and despair, as we weaved
through to where she waited.

Jem reached out
her hand. “Mother, I—”

“Go home, Jem.”
Mrs Stonehouse’s glower sliced through me.

“But,
Mother—”

Her head spun
toward her daughter. “Now, Jem. We will discuss this later.”

Jem opened her
mouth, but closed it at the lift of her mother’s eyebrow. With her
hems dragging through mud, Jem stomped around the older female and
walked away, throwing a backward glance toward me.

My mouth
upturned, and Jem’s glistening eyes held the same smile, holding me
to her for a few breaths longer, as she exited onto the path—until
a face filled with anger disturbed my view.

“I asked you to
stay away from her,” Mrs Stonehouse said with quiet ferocity in her
voice.

I sighed a deep
breath. “And I requested you give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You have not
earned the right to make such a request, Mr Holloway.” She spun
away, but went only a few steps before spinning back to me. “Leave
my daughter alone, or I will ensure she sees you for what you truly
are.”

“What, exactly,
do you believe that to be, Mrs Stonehouse?”

“An animal, Mr
Holloway.” She returned to her departure, muttering her final
closure of, “You are nothing more than an animal.”

***

James’s musk
hit my senses before he came into sight. Hands on hips, mouth set
in a straight line, he glared at me, as I pushed from the forest.
“Where have you been?”

My brows
scrunched, and when he strode toward me, I ceased to walk. “You
know where I have been, James.”

His hand
gripped my throat, and beneath his shove, I stumbled backward until
my shoulders slammed into a tree, sending rain to shower us from
its branches.

He leaned in
close. “Do not lie to me, Sean.”

My head jerked
to the side with the thrust of his arm, my body following. I threw
my hands out to break my landing, but I didn’t have the chance to
push up before he crouched afore me.

Rain slid
across his brow from the tips of his hair, bypassing his dark eyes
filled with fury. “Why would you put your pack at risk for some
human
?” He spat the word as though he considered them below
us. “For a female of no importance?”

Before meeting
Jem, I would have agreed with him. “You know not a thing about
her,” I said.

“They provide
nothing but sex, Sean.”

“I choose not
to take Jem that way.”

A frown
expanded across his brow, his expression incredulous. “What other
possible use could we have for them? What else could she have to
offer?”

“Companionship,” I said quietly.

His stare
narrowed, as he shook his head.

I looked him in
the eye. “I am in love with her, James.”

His roar told
me to expect the blow, yet did nothing to soften it. Pain vibrated
up from my jaw and shot through my head as it whipped backward.
Moisture from the grass soaked the back of my shirt, when I landed
with blood pooling in my mouth.

James stood
over me, giving only a moment’s pause before he extended his
hand.

Of course, I
had no choice but to accept. To offer resistance to the Alpha would
bring a disagreeable outcome.

With a tug of
his arm, he brought me upright and rubbed at my hair as though in
regret of his actions. “You know, and understand, pack rules. The
second you became a member, you agreed to abide by them.”

“I never
agreed,” I said. “We were born into this life, with no option but
to obey rules thrust upon us.”