Mason murmured, "We'll get married somewhere tropical, darling. Just come back to me."
Felicia teared up, bit her lip. Those tears, along with the idea that he'd stolen something from her that she very much wanted, were a stake through Duke's heart.
"I will," she choked out.
Mason sighed. "I'll call you tomorrow. Let me speak with Simon again."
"All right. Good-bye, Mason."
"I love you," he murmured.
Before Felicia could say anything, Duke ripped the phone from her hand and jerked it to his ear. "What do you want?"
"Two days, you bastard. You have two days to bring her back so I can get her adequate protection or I'll report you to the authorities and charge you with kidnapping.
Plenty of witnesses. And that will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you personally."
Duke knew he could avoid all that by faking his own death and disappearing into the magical world. He'd have to someday, before people started questioning why he, like most wizards, looked perpetually thirty. In fact, he'd already begun making arrangements.
Enacting his plan now was tempting. After tonight, there would be scandal, which would be ten times worse if the authorities sought him. Another challenge the Doomsday Brethren didn't need. And what would all this strife do to his poor mother? Failing to return Felicia in two days could forever mar his already shaky relationship with Mason.
And Duke felt certain that his brother's fiancee would never be interested in him now that he'd abducted her against her will. Mason had warned her off, compared him to some wanker named Alexei. An ex-boyfriend?
But he couldn't abandon his family to Mathias's whims before ensuring everyone's safety. He couldn't cause his mother grief by "dying." He couldn't bring himself to sever all ties with Felicia.
Fucking hopeless.
"I'll do my best."
But deep down, Duke knew it would take far longer than a couple of days to make Felicia safe now that Mathias knew she was the Untouchable. She'd be with him day and night. How could he possibly resist her?
Chapter 5
AS THE CALL ENDED, Felicia risked a glance at Hurstgrove's profile, illuminated by the dashboard's lights. She didn't know what Mason had said, but she didn't imagine it was friendly, given the way her captor clenched his jaw and gripped the wheel. Restraining the urge to ask--she knew Mason and could fill in the blanks--Felicia winced and looked at the clock. Two-fourteen a.m.
A new day, a new problem. She'd been abducted from her wedding. By someone not quite human.
Happy New Year...
She rubbed her eyes, trying not to smear the professionally applied makeup she'd paid for hours earlier, then plucked at her veil until it came free. Draping it across the dashboard, Felicia sighed. She could feel every seam in the heavy, form-fitting wedding gown. Her hopes of a happy family and future lay in shambles. And damn it, she had to use the loo.
Exhaustion beat at her. Nerves had kept her awake most of last night, and she felt every minute of that sleeplessness in the warm car that jetted through the dark night to
"safety." Wherever that was.
"Felicia?"
Shocking how gentle Hurstgrove's tone could be. How warm. But then, she supposed it came in handy, seducing as many women as he did.
Across the small sports car's leather interior, his dark stare scorched her. He touched her shoulder. Desire darkened his eyes, tightened his face.
Against her will and better judgment, Felicia's heart stuttered. Her body heated.
She edged away. He dropped his hand with a sigh.
Aside from their one meeting prior to the wedding, Hurstgrove was a complete stranger. Still, he hadn't lied about her safety. Though he had abducted her, she knew he would never harm her.
Seduce her? That, she suspected, he would try. But would he really abduct her merely to do so, as Mason had accused?
Felicia frowned. That didn't add up. Hurstgrove couldn't want her that badly. He didn't know her. At most, he saw a pretty shell, but he bedded actresses and models, women clearly far more beautiful than she was. Though her adoptive parents had praised her looks too often for Felicia to think ill of herself, and male students at uni had frequently asked her out, she didn't believe she was pretty enough to motivate a duke to risk scandal and alienate his family. And was he so lacking in bed partners that he'd have to stoop to this length to get one? No.
Nor did she think he'd done it merely to annoy Mason. Their rivalry was obvious, but her built-in lie detector told her that Hurstgrove had not gambled his familial connections for a fleeting affair.
It would be so easy to be angry, to wonder why Hurstgrove had done this to her.
But he'd abducted her from her wedding for her, and at great expense to himself.
Why?
He might not be the most honorable man ever. He objectified women and didn't seem to care much about resolving Mason's animosity. But he had risked much to help her, attempted diplomacy, then took quick action when talking no longer worked. He wasn't afraid to do what needed to be done. In a weird way, Felicia admired him for it.
Beyond the fact he wasn't human--what sort of "other" he was, she had no idea--there was more to Hurstgrove than she'd previously imagined.
What would he be like in bed?
The question came from nowhere, unbidden, unwanted. A thousand sensual images pelted her at once: his hand fisting in her hair, the other gripping her hip; his lips on hers; hard muscles sliding over her skin, covering every inch of her body; his shoulders bunching under her nails as he slid deep inside her ... and she lifted her hips in welcome, arching her back and hissing with pleasure.
Felicia lifted shaking hands to her hot cheeks. Oh goodness. She was breathing too fast. How could that one little fantasy--the one that would never actually become reality--affect her so quickly?
He was her fiance's half brother, her abductor. He wasn't even human, yet ... she couldn't not be aware of him. Every time he drew near, her body lit up like a Christmas tree. Of course she was grateful that he'd saved her from Mathias tonight. But it wasn't gratitude making her breasts ache or her knickers turn moist. Why? She should hate everything about his rich, womanizing ways. But she couldn't hate him.
Did that non-human part of him draw her in? Did aliens possess such powers? Or maybe he was something else from myth or lore? Did such beings truly exist? It seemed fantastical...but she knew, in this case, real life was stranger than fiction.
She took a deep breath and turned to him. "What are you?"
He stilled. "What am I?"
"Yes. I know you're not human. Your conversation with Bram in the garage ... It's clear your normal mode of transportation isn't an auto. He tried to simply concentrate, as if that would transport him to another location. That's not normal. Not ... human."
Duke gripped the wheel tighter. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Another lie, but accusing him would get her nowhere. "I'm not stupid. You claimed I'm in grave danger from a madman I've never heard of and that only you and your friends can protect me. Then a lot of robed villains arrived unexpectedly and in minutes demolished a building that had stood for hundreds of years. What am I to make of that?"
Hurstgrove winced. "The evening has been harrowing. I'm sorry."