Chapter 8

Chapter 8

How long had he been out this time? Luther woke somewhere in his own gardens. He knew that much. As he stumbled to his feet, he recognized the well-groomed areas of his own land. At least he was home.

He’d never thought to lose control like that. The beast inside him had luxuriated last night, however. Luther could usually feel some part of the monster as it lingered in the back of his mind, trying to convince him to do what it wanted. But this morning, the beast was blissfully quiet.

Not a single peep from his mind. Instead, the monster slept. Finally appeased.

Maybe his father had been wrong, then. Maybe they didn’t need to control the creature who wanted to experience the world. He had to cling to that hope that his father was wrong, as were all his other ancestors. Otherwise, he’d make himself sick with worry.

Grumbling and upset, he headed to his home and tried very hard to ignore the servants. They’d be quick to talk, considering their master stalked naked through the halls while leaving muddy footprints behind him. At least he paid them well enough that they’d all keep their mouths shut.

Luther took his sweet time in the bath that morning, trying to remember anything that might have happened the night before. But he couldn’t remember a single thing. It was like the beast had locked the memories away from him, even though they were technically the same person.

Getting out of the water, he pulled his clothes on while mumbling, “What did we do last night? Why won’t you tell me?”

The beast stirred, then released a single memory into his stream of consciousness.

The thief.

Oh. Oh, no. He had a woman in his basement that he’d left there for god knows how long. He didn’t even know if he’d been out for a single night or all three of the full moon.

What if she was dead? What if he walked down there and she’d scratched at the walls until she’d finally ripped open a vein and then she was dead? Would he find a bloated body down there in his basement, and all of a sudden he’d have to deal with knowing that he was also a horrible, downright, no good murderer?

He felt like he was going to pass out. He couldn’t do that to another person. Not once in his life had he thought he could be a murderer and yet, he could very well find out that he’d been wrong this entire time.

Wringing his hands, Luther sprinted through the halls and tried his best not to lose his mind. The ballroom was so damned far away from his bedroom and it felt like it took hours to get there. But then it was too quick of a journey when he stood in front of the door with three scratch marks down the exterior.

Had he already gone inside? Were those marks the last lingering moments of the beast devouring the young thief who had unfortunately fallen into his home?

Luther pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, vomit already threatening to spill from his lips. He could do this. He could open the door, look inside, and then figure out what to do from there. If she was dead, he’d have to hide the body. If she was alive... well, then he’d figure that out, too.

“Please don’t be dead,” he murmured as he grabbed the door handle. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you were dead.”

Like ripping off a bandage, Luther pushed the door open with a sharp shove that ended with a young woman shouting, but thankfully not falling down the stairs yet again.

The fiery haired thief crouched on the opposite side of the door, a thin piece of metal sticking out of her mouth and another in her hands. She lifted the metal bar over her head, clearly looking to bring it down on his head.

Luther leapt out of the way, far from her iron reach, and held out his hands in what he hoped looked like a peace offering. “No, no! Please. I mean you no harm.”

“No harm?” She spat out the metal that he assumed she’d been using to pick the lock. “You locked me in your basement, you prick!”

Prick?

“I am no such thing,” he stammered, taking another step back as she advanced further into the room. “I’m releasing you from the basement.”

“That you put me in.”

“That I put you in,” he repeated with a nod. Yet again, Luther backed away as she stepped into the sunny ballroom.

She looked worse than he remembered. Her bright red curls stuck up in all directions and there were smears of dirt on her cheeks. And she was tall. Goodness, she looked him in the eyes when she walked toward him. He’d never met a woman who made him feel like he wasn’t the tallest man in the room.

He had to get control over this situation or he’d regret it. Luther cleared his throat and tucked his hands into his pockets, hoping that made him look less intimidating. “I think we need to talk, you and I.”

She blinked at him as though he’d requested they speak in Mandarin. “Excuse me?”

“I understand this is all likely very confusing for you, but I promise, if you’ll sit down with me and have a cup of tea, I will explain everything.” He tried, yet again, to hold up his hands as though he weren’t a threat. “There is much to explain. I understand this entire interaction has been rather frightening for you, and that is certainly not how I would wish our further conversations to go.”

For a moment, it looked like she might listen to what he had to say. But then her brows snapped down and her hands tightened on the grip of her iron bar. “Frightening? Is that what you think this was? A mad man locked me in his basement with chains and whips and a torture chamber in the back of it. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice all your toys? All those fun little things in the room where you bring women like me?”

“What?” he shook his head. “No, no. I’m afraid that’s not... You’ve got this all wrong.”

“Do I?” She swung the iron bar at him, and he had to duck to avoid getting clipped. “I think I have everything right. You’re insane, and I never should have come here.”

All right, that was quite enough. He’d tried to be nice. He’d tried the supportive path that was quiet and calm as all young women seemed to enjoy. Now he would do what it took to shut her mouth.

Luther swung his arm up and caught the bar in his hand. She tugged hard, trying to free it from his grip, but he only held onto it tighter. Thankfully, the beast in him made him stronger than the average man. She’d underestimated him.

The thief snarled and tugged at the iron one last time before she released it. He kept it at his side, rather than throw it where she could grab it once again.

“Fine,” she snapped. “The fact that you want to have tea with a thief is ridiculous, and I hope you know that.”

Oh, he did. But the fight with her had raised the beast inside him, and now he looked at her with hungry eyes. The monster lifted its head and that... that changed things. He could see her with more intensity. The crimson color of her hair, the way her pulse ticked in her neck.

But it was her scent that made him fairly purr with pleasure. Sweet and spicy all at the same time, like a hot toddy on a cool winter night. She smelled like everything he’d ever desired and more. The wolf inside him changed its opinion of the little thief who thought she could take what was not hers. She was interesting now. Intriguing. Tasty.

He had to snap out of it or he would hurt her even worse than frightening her in his basement. Clearing his throat, he gestured with his arm for her to leave the ballroom. “After you, madam.”

“Please.” She snorted as she walked by him, the sound horribly unladylike. “Calling me madam is an insult to all the ladies out there. I’m a thief. You can call me Luna and nothing else.”

“I shouldn’t call you by your first name. It should be by your last.” And calling her Luna would feel so intense. No one called each other by their first name unless they were... well...

Luther adjusted his pants before trailing her out of the ballroom. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d be in a lot more trouble than he had bargained for.

She walked through his home as though she owned the place. Zero fear in the set of her shoulders or the loose hipped way she walked. And she walked like no one he had ever seen before. Though she was tall and perhaps more muscular than any other woman he’d met in his life, she held her power with confidence and no small amount of control.

“Where are we going?” She shot over her shoulder.

“Uh, the, uh. The study.” He didn’t know where to bring her. The servants would talk either way. Especially considering he’d walked in unclothed and now he had a woman here in his home, unannounced. He’d never hear the end of this.

At least the study was one of his own private places. Luther pointed to her right, over her shoulder, and felt the heat radiating off her body. The beast inside him wanted to rub himself against her.

He wasn’t a damned cat! “Get it together,” he hissed at himself as she walked into the room.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You sure do talk to yourself a lot for an earl.”

“And you judge me a lot for someone who isn’t a member of the peerage.” He rushed in ahead of her and gestured for her to take a seat in one of the plush recliners. “Please, have a seat.”

She looked around his study with a calculating eye and he wondered what she saw. The study was warm and inviting, full of deep wood accents and dark green hues. He’d always found it to be a welcoming place, with books filling each set of shelves and bright windows letting in the afternoon light.

But then he remembered she was a thief. Of course, she wasn’t looking to see if this room appeared to be a kind man’s study. She’d be looking at the other decorations on the shelves that were each worth a fortune. Just the decorative glass egg would feed a family for a month. Let alone the watch on his desk that was made of solid gold.

He was a fool to even think that she’d notice what he did. She didn’t care about comfort, she cared about getting paid.

Luther had hoped to see a little more humanity in the young woman. After all, he’d given her the benefit of the doubt in even bringing her to the study when he could have sent her right to law enforcement with a letter pinned to her chest.

Ah, well. Hindsight and all that.

Sighing, he sat down in the chair across from her and picked up the metal tea kettle one of his staff had left for him earlier this morning. The tea would be lukewarm at best. “How do you take your tea?”

“From a murderer, apparently.”

His hands shook too much at the words and he spilled water all over the first cup. Since when had he ever had shaky hands? He was a stalwart man who never made a single mistake, even in pouring tea. And yet, this woman turned him inside out and upside down.

Pouring the water took longer than it should have, but he filled the next cup without splashing the liquid all over. And then, of course, he had to get the sugar. Unfortunately, his staff hadn’t left him sugar cubes this morning, namely because they knew he liked to add quite a bit to his morning tea.

He looked at the spoon, then his shaking hands, and then back to the young woman watching his every move with too much intensity. “One scoop or two?”

As he watched her expression, he thought for a second she felt something other than fear and hatred of him. Her brows eased and her breathing slowed down enough that he knew she didn’t think he was going to kill her. Or had tried to kill her. Their relationship was very complicated now.

The thief, Luna, he reminded himself, leaned forward and took the spoon herself. “I prefer more sugar than tea, if I’m being honest. And considering you’re an earl, I assume you can spare enough of it to satisfy my tastes.”

He watched her graceful movements as she filled her own cup first and then raised a brow at him.

“Oh, uh. Me?” He pressed a hand to his chest as though surprised. “I take my tea the same, actually.”

“You have a sweet tooth?” Luna looked him up and down before letting out a little laugh. “You’re ever so surprising, Earl. First hunting down women to put in your basement for your own devious pleasures, and then liking sugar a little too much. You’d best be careful or it’ll all go to that stomach and you’ll look more like the rest of your kind.”

“My mother used to say the same thing.” A sharp cough after the words emphasized his shock. “Not about the kidnapping and killing women in the basement.”

“What our parents don’t know can’t hurt them.” She held out the cup of tepid water without looking away. “Where are the tea bags?”

He had no idea. All he could think about was her eyes and those stunning curls that framed a strong face. She was so unlike anyone he’d ever met before, and this was the first time he’d actually agreed with his beast. She was beautiful. And he wanted her.

Sunlight trickled through the window and made her hair look like a wildfire atop her head. It cast long shadows off her too long nose, sharpened the edge of her jaw, and made her look even more intimidating.

He’d always thought that only soft women were beautiful. His father had taught him that all those years ago. Women were meant to be welcoming arms that a man could fall into after a long day. But this woman was a shield, or a weapon.

Luna gestured with the tea cup, shoving it closer to him. “Are you going to take it or not?”

“Sorry.” He took the tea cup and held it close to his chest. He didn’t sip at it or even look at the tea bags. Instead, he looked at her. Some unbidden desire rose in his chest and he blurted out the words before he could stop himself. “We both know you were here to steal from me last night, but rather than calling the authorities, I would like to propose a bargain.”