Chapter 3

I cannot believe I made it into Blackthorn Estate!

Alice grinned to herself as she tugged at the hem of her apron and wondered—not for the first time that day—if it was truly the best course of action to borrow a plain dress from her lady's maid. Louise had been hesitant to comply with her request at first, knowing just the sort of shenanigans her mistress usually got into, but Alice's persistence had eventually worn down the maid's defenses.

"Now, to find the book itself," she muttered to herself.

If one were to house a collection of the most scandalous books, then she deduced it must be in a library, for where else should one put one's books?

But then again, if these books were not meant for the eyes of others, then the Duke of Thorns could very well have hidden them someplace else…

Alice frowned to herself. If the Duke had indeed concealed his outrageous collection someplace else, then it was going to complicate her search a bit. However, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Of course, he would not display it someplace for all the world to gawk at. This book had a reputation of its own, after all. It was one of a kind.

Besides, its contents were much too scandalous to be perused outside of one's bedchamber—or so she had heard. She would find out soon enough when she got her hands on it.

But to do that would mean she would have to go into his bedchamber…

At the thought of rifling through his personal belongings, she felt a familiar warmth creeping up her cheeks even as a strange heat began to coil in the pit of her belly. Was it fear? Apprehension?

Somehow, it felt nothing like it.

It was more of a thrill. An excitement of some sort.

Focus, Alice!

She shook her head as if to clear her wayward thoughts. This was not the time to be indulging her often-winded train of thought. Not when she had a more important mission to accomplish.

And certainly not while she was in the lair of a beast.

She pressed her lips into a determined line as she crept down the mostly empty hallway, grateful for the thick carpeting underfoot that muffled her footsteps.

She had never had the privilege of exploring Blackthorn Estate prior to this particular excursion, but fortunately, Alice had studied several books on architecture once when she had been fascinated by it. She had learned then that there was a pattern to most houses, even the grandest ones.

She just prayed that Blackthorn Estate did not deviate too far from that particular blueprint.

Or that its fearsome, reclusive owner had not actually hidden the book someplace else. If he did, then all her efforts would be in vain, and she would never be able to get her hands on it…

"Oh! There you are!"

Alice froze when she heard a nasal voice calling out from behind her. Her heart pounding in her chest, she dared not turn around for fear of revealing her face to whoever it was that had caught her sneaking about in the direction of the bedrooms.

However, this particular maid would not be deterred, and when her fingers clamped around Alice's wrist, her mind veered in sheer panic.

"What are you doing about here at this hour? You should be in the kitchen!" the maid admonished her. "More hands are needed here—hey!"

With every ounce of strength she had left in her, Alice twisted her wrist out of the woman's grasp and fled down the hallway. She barreled into the first door that she had noticed was slightly ajar, slamming it shut behind her and turning the lock for good measure.

I've been caught! Dear God, what do I do now?

She closed her eyes as she leaned back against the door. She took in big gulps of air as she fought to steady her wildly beating heart.

It was over now. Her mission was a failure. She would have to give up any desire of ever finding that book and succumb to her fate?—

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?"

* * *

Her mind blanked at the sound of a deep voice. The sound of it wrapped around her senses like silken bonds, holding her in its thrall.

It was only then that she realized that she was not alone in this room, after all.

Her eyes darted to her right and saw the man she had seen from afar just yesterday. Only this time, he had dispensed of his cape and shirt. The corded muscles of his arms flexed as he folded them over his bare chest.

Alice flushed and dropped her gaze, landing squarely on the crotch of his breeches, which were smeared once again with something vividly red.

Was it blood? Phoebe cannot possibly be right—there were no such things as cannibals in London. If there were, then she or Scarlett would have heard of it…

"You are not supposed to be here," he told her darkly.

Alice looked up to find his stormy, blue-gray gaze bearing down on her. His lips were pressed into a grim line, making no attempt to hide his displeasure.

"You have ten seconds to tell me who you are and the purpose of your unwarranted visit before I kick you out of this room," he threatened her.

Alice bristled at his tone. In spite of the rumors swirling around this estate and its master, he was still just a man. She would not cower before him. Would not give him the satisfaction of it.

Defiantly, she raised her chin and met his gaze. "I am your new maid, Your Grace."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "My new maid, huh? Even I cannot pretend I have not heard such drivel before."

He stalked towards her, and Alice would have taken a few steps back if her back was not already pressed against the door. She sucked in a deep breath as he continued to approach her, leering at her as a predator might appraise its next meal. He was so close now that she could see the rise and fall of his chest, feel the intense heat radiating from his skin. If she raised her hand, she would be able to touch him…

"Wrong answer, little lamb," he growled. He picked up the hand she had raised unconsciously and turned it over in his, raising a single dark eyebrow. "These are not the hands of a maid."

Alice quickly withdrew her hands from his grasp and inwardly cursed herself for her folly. Of course, he would know just from a single look that she had never done manual labor in her entire life. How could she have been so stupid as to give that all away?

The man said nothing more, merely turned away from her as he stalked over to a table that held a decanter and a glass. He poured himself a drink, and Alice watched, mesmerized, the way the muscles in his back bunched and flexed, every line as sleek and powerful as that of a panther.

"Tell Ethan I thank him for the gift, but I am not in the mood for company tonight," he told her dismissively. "You may leave."

Alice gaped at him.

Tell Ethan what?

Did he think that she was a…?

"I beg your pardon!" The incensed words flew out of her lips before she could stop herself. Almost as soon as she spat them out, she cursed herself inwardly.

Fortunately, he did not seem to catch on to her mistake. If he did, then he appeared not to care about it as he turned around slightly, an eyebrow still arched as he regarded her contemptuously.

"You are here to share my bed, are you not?" he drawled. "Ethan is getting rather predictable in his old age, it would seem, and so lacking in creativity. You are the third one he has sent this week, but I am afraid I have no use for you. I will make sure you are paid, however."

Alice just gaped at him as he turned around and walked back to her. He really thought she was a strumpet!

"A pity, though," he continued in a softer tone as his eyes roved over her form in an appreciative manner. "I have to admit you look much better than the ones he had sent before…"

She watched as he raised his hand as if he might caress her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat, her skin itching to know what his touch would feel like…

Fortunately, her modesty belatedly managed to kick in, and she angrily slapped his hand away.

"How dare you touch a lady so intimately!" she reprimanded him.

"A lady?" he scoffed. His hand reached out to cup the back of her head, his eyes blazing dangerously. "What sort of lady would go about traipsing into a man's private rooms?"

He had a point there that Alice was not willing to concede.

"In addition to that, you are in my estate," he told her with a dark grin. "Everything in Blackthorn Estate belongs to me—including you."

Dear God in heaven, the Duke of Thorns is a Wolf!

Scarlett was right—he was every bit the rake she warned Alice he would be, with none of the veneer of civility that most gentlemen in her acquaintance possessed. He was danger made flesh. A beast trapped in the body of a man.

"Tell me, then," he whispered silkily, his warm breath fanning the sensitive shell of her ear. "If you were not sent by my dear friend to entertain me, then who are you, and what is your purpose?"

Alice pursed her lips. There was no point in denying it now. She had already been caught—literally and figuratively.

The best that she could do was come clean. Maybe then he would be kind enough to actually let her borrow the book.

"I meant to borrow something from you," she admitted.

He raised an eyebrow as if he did not believe her. She did not blame him either—it sounded so absurd that it was downright laughable.

"You meant to borrow something from me?"

She did not know if she should feel incensed at the dark amusement in his tone.

"Fine!" she huffed. "I actually intended to steal it from you!"

* * *

Colin could not recall a time when he had been so aroused and so tempted to laugh at the same time. Looking down at the fascinating creature trapped between his body and the door, he was sorely tempted to just let his mirth bubble up from his throat.

"Steal from me?" he murmured.

The sheer audacity of it! Or was it foolishness? Maybe both?

The young woman—lady, she had claimed—bit her lower lip in a way that sent a bolt of lust shooting directly to his groin, a feeling that he had long buried along with the charred remains of his parents, half a decade past.

If he had accepted Ethan's previous "gifts," perhaps he would not be in such a dilemma right now.

As if to make things worse, he watched as her anxious eyes flitted from his face down to his crotch.

Is she aware of just how much I want to strip her naked and have my way with her?

If the young lady had been unaware of it before, she might quite possibly not be now. His erection could not have been more obvious if it stood up and waved for her attention.

"What's that?" she choked out, pointing at the bulge in his breeches.

Colin should have been mortified. Instead, he wanted nothing more than to introduce his hardness to her. To sink himself into her warmth.

"Is that blood?"

The horror in her voice cut off his train of thought, and he frowned as he glanced at his aching crotch again.

This time, he could see what she was pointing at—and it was not blood.

Not at all.

But he was sorely tempted to burst into laughter.

"That is none of your business," he told her implacably. "And what is it in this estate that you so badly want to steal, My Lady?"

When she raised her eyes to him again, Colin fought the urge to let out a strangled groan.

Those eyes—those eyes were going to be the death of him if he was not careful enough.

And Colin had been very, very careful thus far.