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“Hello, Edward,” Cassandra said in her low, sultry voice. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t know if that would be—” He grunted as she pushed past him, her floral perfume filling the air.
Dressed in a purple gown that would be more suitable for dinner in the big city than visiting a friend, Cassandra stopped in the middle of the room and practically posed for him. She was a beautiful woman, a few years older than himself and Garret, but lovely with her deep red hair and wide green eyes. For the past few years, they’d carried on a casual dalliance with the wealthy widow. It was a friendly relationship, neither party wanting anything more than someone to scratch an itch and share a glass of bourbon. But their visits had stopped recently when she began to more than casually hint she was on the hunt for her next husband. Or, in this case, husbands.
Placing her hands on her curvy hips, she slowly scanned the room then arched a brow. “Well, I hear congratulations is in order. Where is your fiancée? I’d love to meet her.”
Despite her casual tone and small smile, he could see the anger snapping in her eyes and the rigid way she held herself.
“Thank you, but I’m afraid Rowan isn’t available right now.”
Her upper lip curled and jealousy practically radiated from her like heat from a stove. He noticed that she’d painted her lips with a stain that made them seem fuller than usual and had applied some cosmetics to her eyes as well. He didn’t know much about women, but he was quite sure Cassandra wasn’t wearing makeup–she wore war paint. She was a proud woman, and it no doubt pricked her fragile pride to know the men she’d been perusing had chosen another. Especially since Cassandra was rather spoiled and expected men to fall at her feet.
“Cassandra,” he said in a low voice, not wanting to hurt her but at the same time wanting her out of his room, “we can discuss this later. I need to get ready for dinner.”
Changing tactics, she let the fox fur stole she’d had wrapped around her shoulders fall away, revealing an impressive amount of cleavage lifted for maximum effect. “Edward, please don’t be so cold. I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, but nothing more,” he said firmly as he turned his back on her, reaching for hi
s jacket.
“Edward,” she purred from right behind him and he turned with a start. “It doesn’t have to be this way. You aren’t married yet. Don’t you remember how good things can be between us?”
She wrapped her arms around him and leaned up on her tiptoes, her mouth inches from his as he backed into the wall, trying to get away from her.
“Woman,” he growled, “I may not be married yet, but my heart belongs to Rowan.”
“What about your cock?” Cassandra bared her teeth at him as he caught her hands in his own, keeping her from reaching between his legs. “She’ll never be able to satisfy you like I can.”
“Enough,” he roared as he pushed Cassandra away. “I want you out of my room, now.”
Sprawled on the floor, Candance instead shocked the hell out of him by going on her hands and knees and crawling over to him. “Just let me taste you one more time, Edward. You know how good I am at pleasing you with my mouth.”
As he took another step back, he froze when he heard Rowan say in a low, pissed voice, “If you don’t get your diseased whore carcass out of my fiancés room in ten seconds, I’m going to drag you out by your badly dyed hair.”
Edward’s mouth practically hit his chest when he turned and saw Rowan, cleaned up and wearing a decent fitting gown, for the first time.
He’d known she was beautiful, had been attracted to her even when she was covered in dirt and passed out in his bed, but the sight of her took his breath away. Her golden hair was twisted on top of her head into a complicated bun, but curls has been left out to artfully drape around her face, framing it. Though she was still too skinny, her beauty was arresting. Not classic, like Cassandra’s, but eye catching nonetheless. Her bronze skin tone made her pale blue eyes glow, and her wide pink lips—no longer chapped and windburned—were drawn tight with anger. The blue gown she wore highlighted the tininess of her waist, and was tight enough to accent her high, firm breasts.
Cassandra quickly grabbed her fur and stood, her chin raised in an arrogant tilt. “How dare you speak to me like that!” Cassandra said in a shaky voice. “Edward, do something!”
Rowan bared her teeth in something more like a snarl than a smile and took a step forward. “Don’t worry about Edward. Don’t speak to Edward. Don’t even look at Edward. I want you out of my fiancés bedroom, now!”
For all her bluster, Cassandra had grown up with money and was soft in many ways Rowan would never be. Not physically, but mentally. Cassandra was weak and overindulged, and it showed in how quickly she backed up from an advancing Rowan.
His little tigress didn’t show a hint of fear as she literally stalked the older, larger woman out the door.
Once Cassandra was out in the hall, Rowan slammed the door shut with a ‘And don’t come back!’ that left him staring at her in amazement.
She spun around, fire still roaring in her gaze as she pointed a finger at him. “And you—”
He didn’t even give her a chance to speak, instead sweeping her into his arms so he could properly kiss her with all the passion raging inside of him. Her little feet kicked at his shins, and she tried to push her way out of his arms, but he tightened his grip on her and began to suck and kiss at her luscious mouth while she snarled at him. Her resistance only turned him on even more, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh of surrender, his heart swelled with victory.
Their tongues tangled together as she gripped his hair with two fists, her fingers clutching the still damp strands as she jerked his head back, then began to kiss his smooth shaved throat. The feeling was like liquid fire, and his groans echoed through the room as her lips brushed over him. When she sank her sharp little teeth into the side of his neck almost hard enough to break the skin, he let out a rather unmanly yelp.
“Easy, little tigress, sheath your fangs” he said as she sucked where she’d bitten.
Leaning back so her gaze could meet his she said, “If you wear my mark, maybe the women of this town will figure out that you’re spoken for.”
