Duke rubbed at the stubble shadowing his jaw and cheeks. "Deepest apologies.

Will you please share what you're thinking, Felicia?"

"You have money and you're used to far better accommodations than a cave, so why stay there with Ice and the others?"

Damn it, more questions. He should have known. "Why not?"

"Because according to Mason, besides Lowechester Hall, you have a flat in London, a home somewhere along the shore, and a hunting lodge in Scotland," she went on. "Given that, why stay in rustic Welsh caves?"

Had Mason neglected to mention the Manhattan apartment? Duke shook his head.

She'd already asked what he was, not lingering on the who and why of tonight's events. Those were mere scenery. Felicia had focused on the big picture, as if she'd known that his being a wizard was key to comprehending the catastrophic evening. Now she sought more answers. Did she always ask such clever questions? He usually dated the most vapid human women he could find because they were incapable of guessing what he was and never attracted him for long.

Beautiful, saucy--and too damn smart, Felicia was exactly the sort of woman he avoided.

"Just staying with friends for a bit," he lied.

She grimaced and clutched her stomach.

"Something wrong?" Concern raced through him.

"When you're ready to be honest, let me know. Is there a loo anywhere near?"

Glancing at the clock, Hurstgrove wondered how she could see right through him.

"Sorry. It's been a couple of hours. We've another few at least before we reach Ice's place.

We should stop for the night."

But where? Duke winced. Wasn't much alongside this stretch of the M4.

The next few minutes passed in tense silence until, finally, he pulled off the motorway at the only bit of civilization visible. A few scattered cottages, looking as old as the tiny village itself, squatted on a dark, narrow road. At the end, nestled in trees, a plain mid-century house appeared, only visible because his headlights reflected off the front windows.

As Duke steered the convertible closer, he noted a faint air of lonesomeness. He pulled up in the drive and turned to Felicia. "Wait here."

He hopped out of the car and sprinted to the little cottage door. A few envelopes bulged out of the mail slot. A peek through the window revealed newspapers littering the floor. No one had been home for days.

Praying the inhabitants were away for the holiday, Duke returned to the car, then followed the drive around the back of the house. He cut the lights and the engine.

"Who lives here?" she asked, frowning.

No idea. "A friend. Let's go."

Felicia grabbed his arm as he began to climb out of the car. "You're lying."

How could she know that? "We'll only be here a few hours. Come on."

"We can't just barge into someone's home!"

"This is life or death. We haven't time to be polite."

She dug in her heels. "We're staying in separate rooms, yes?"

It would be wiser for his self-control, but ... Duke shook his head. "I'll do my utmost to respect your privacy. But I can't let this ... man get his hands on you, Felicia. I won't risk you. 'Depraved' is too kind a word to describe him."

She hesitated, then sighed. "All right."

Her acceptance of the situation relieved him and made him a bit proud. She was smart and practical ... and driving him mad with lust.

As he walked around to help her out of the car, he murmured, "Stay close to me."

Felicia exited, shivering as she scanned their surroundings. He slung an arm around her and drew her against his side.

Bristling, she backed away. "Unless you're concerned about a stampeding sheep or cow, I'm perfectly fine. There's no one about."

"You'd be surprised by the things that go bump in the night." He smiled grimly at her. "Besides, you're freezing. Let's go."

The moment they stepped away from the car, the January wind whipped through them anew. She shivered in the delicate lace of her dress and crossed her arms, huddling into herself to keep warm.

Stubborn woman. Duke shrugged out of his coat.

"Oh, no. You don't--"

Felicia didn't even finish her protest before he settled his dinner jacket over her shoulders. Almost instantly, she sank deep into the warmth of the coat.

"Warmer?"

Felicia buried her hands in the lapels and inhaled deeply. Duke was already hard, but his erection turned painful.

Cheeks red, she lifted her face from the garment and nodded. "Th-thank you."

At the door, Duke hesitated. If Felicia weren't with him, he'd simply wave a hand and let his magic open the door. He couldn't send her two hundred meters away now. Too dangerous. So in addition to kidnapping, less than four hours later he'd be adding breaking and entering to his criminal repertoire. Won't Mum be proud?

He reared back to elbow out a little pane of glass above the handle when Felicia tapped his shoulder. She held the key in her hand.

"Where did you find that?"

She gestured to her feet. "Flower pot. I keep my spare there as well."

Very smart. Duke grabbed the key and stepped forward to open the door for Felicia. They crowded together on the tiny stoop. Her wide blue eyes lifted to his face, searching, aware. The pulse at her neck beat rapidly. Her face was so close, he felt her warm breath against his mouth.

Duke's stomach clenched, and he resisted an insane urge to crush her between the door and his body, to cover her lips with his, press deep inside, and roll her sweetness on his tongue. He didn't dare.

Slowly, he stepped back.

Tearing her gaze from his, Felicia squeezed between him and the door, then stepped into the cozy little house with its neutral colors and masculine touches. Duke closed the door behind her and locked it. Just in case, he tried to magically secure the door ... but nothing. Damn. He'd have to keep her close and take other precautions.

Silently, he followed Felicia into the slightly cluttered space. Discarded newspapers and sports magazines were everywhere. Rows and rows of books lined the dark wood shelves around the perimeter of the room. He continued trailing her down a narrow hallway that smelled faintly of cedar and mold, through an arch in the stone wall, and up a steep flight of stairs. Her slim hips swayed. His desire flared to heated life again, gnawing at him. He hung his head, pressed his shoulders down, trying to relieve some of the tension. Problem was, it wasn't in his neck.

At the top of the landing, Duke wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist, staying her. "Let me go into the rooms first, just in case."

Felicia thrust her hands on her slender hips. "We're safe. There's no one here, Your Grace."

"Simon," he corrected again. "And simply because it appears we're alone doesn't make it so."

"The door was locked."

That meant nothing to magickind. Even with Felicia here, Mathias could break in the human way just as effectively.

Duke shot her a warning glance. She sighed, muttering about high-handed men, and flattened herself against the railing.

He passed her on the narrow stairwell, his body brushing hers at the chest and thighs. He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. All right, it was an excuse to touch her. The yearning to press her bare flesh against him and unleash his need for her pounded him again, growing dangerously with every moment they were together. Only thoughts of Mason and Mathias enabled him to release her and trek down the narrow hall.

He stopped at the first door on the left. A quick glance inside revealed a small music room with electronic equipment, a keyboard, drums, and a trumpet all scattered about.

Duke turned to the door across the hall. A slightly musty scent drifted out, as if no one had slept here in a few days or weeks. He flipped on the nearby lamp. The room was stark, masculine, minimal, and very small. The owner had squeezed an armoire, a wooden bench, and one narrow tester bed into the room.

It was going to be a long night.

Biting back a curse, Duke ushered Felicia into the bedroom. He took another glance at the little bed. His gut tightened. "Would you like the shower first?"

Awareness shadowed her glance. "If you don't mind ..."

Duke gestured to the adjacent room, and she edged past him, flipped on the light to reveal glossy black tiles lining a stark white shower, then turned. His gaze locked with hers, squeezing the air from his lungs, until she closed the door between them.

Letting out a breath, Duke tore off his shoes, coat, tie, and shirt. He'd rather strip down and ease this aching erection, but Felicia was forbidden, and wanking off to thoughts of her would not be helpful, he knew from experience. Besides, he must stay focused on her safety.

Lifting the dark wooden blinds, he looked outside at the night around him, alert for any signs of menace. He couldn't see a damn thing beyond the trees, but Mathias was out there searching, waiting for him to fuck up and expose Felicia to danger. Cursing, Duke pulled out his mobile and hit the button to dial Bram.

"What?" he panted into the phone after the first ring. In the background, Duke heard feminine moans. Bram was with a woman?

"You found Emma?"

"No," he snarled.

"How is sex with someone else possible when you have a mate?" he blurted.

"I'm not shagging her, you dolt."

Of course not. As a mated wizard, Bram couldn't. He must be siphoning off the woman's sexual energy--a necessity after facing Mathias and the Anarki earlier. A wizard had to keep his magic powered somehow. So how did Bram soak in her pleasure if he wasn't touching her? Duke decided he didn't really want to know.

"It's nearly three in the morning. What the hell do you want?"

Duke cleared his throat. "Felicia and I are stopping for the night somewhere west of Magor."

"Where is that?"

"Exactly."

Bram cursed. "Hold on."

A fumbling sound, another feminine groan, a beep, then silence. Duke winced.

Moments later, another beep signaled Bram's return. He was breathing even harder. "You and Felicia alone. Is that wise?"

Of course not. "She's exhausted. I won't take advantage of a sleeping woman."

Bram scoffed. "I don't care what you do with the girl; that's between you, her, and Mason. But you're with an Untouchable and have no protection."

"We won't stay more than a few hours. I don't think Mathias followed us."

"But you don't know that for a fact. I'll send reinforcements, just in case."

"Thank you."

"Have you told Felicia what you are?"

"No." Duke plowed a hand through his hair. "I'd rather not. The less she knows about us, the better for her safety. But she is full of questions."

Bram grumbled. "I don't think you can avoid the truth for long, but we'll deal with it later. Focus on keeping her safe now. I don't need to tell you how valuable she is."

Not at all. "See you tomorrow."

Duke rang off as Felicia opened the bathroom door and peeked out, her face hesitant. "Can you help me? I hate to ask ..."

"Anything," he vowed, crossing the room to her.

She bit her lip. "My dress ..."

Then turned her back to him. A row of small satin buttons secured the lace gown from her neck to her waist--twenty of them, at least. And she wanted him to unfasten them? Unwrap her like a package?

A fresh wave of desire swamped him, nearly overwhelming. Dear God, how could he touch those buttons--her skin--and not take more?

Felicia cast a nervous glance over her shoulder again, moving the thick tumble of golden curls that had fallen from her twist out of his way.

Duke did his best to school his face and soothe her as he closed the distance between them. His heart revved, his palms turned damp. He wanted her so badly, he could hardly walk right.

She's not yours.

With shaking hands, he reached for the first button at the creamy flesh of her neck, just below the wispy curls rioting near her hairline. Another button, then a second, a third ... revealing the line of her spine and the softest skin. With each button, Duke exposed more and more of her, and his greedy gaze ate up every inch. The dress fell away, baring the delicate slopes of her shoulders, her upper back, the hint of her small waist.

His breathing turned ragged. As close as he was, Felicia couldn't possibly fail to notice.

Two buttons left. He reached for the first, and couldn't resist caressing one fingertip down her spine. She shuddered and looked back, wide-eyed, pupils dilated. Red colored her cheeks. She bit her plump bottom lip between her teeth. Her breathing also sounded harsh in the silence between them.

Dear God, she was aroused.

Grabbing the last button, he twisted it, sliding it free of its mooring. He had to get away from her before he did something they'd both regret.

The dress sagged forward, and she caught it--but not until it fell from her bare shoulders and slid toward her hips, revealing a bit of the white lacy knickers he yearned to rip from her body.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"You're welcome." His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in years.

Walk away!

But he stood, rooted. Staring.