Wolf's Temptation
Berkley
ISBN: 0-425-2126-0
October 2006

Chapter One

November 1776
London

Tobacco.

The rich, pungent scent of it tickled the edges of Ethan Gray's senses. He breathed deep, his pulse racing.

Could she be the one?

The one who'd held a pistol to his temple in the dark warehouse? The one who'd threatened his life if he continued to search for the hidden cache of arms? He'd been searching for her for months. If this were the same woman, what was she doing here, at Lady Jersey's masque?

It wouldn't be the first time he'd happened upon her at a party. She'd stolen letters from Lord Shelbourne's desk the night of a soiree there, while Ethan hid behind a settee. He hadn't actually seen her, for he hadn't wanted to reveal his own presence in Shelbourne's private study. But he'd smelled tobacco that night, too.

Tonight, though, he'd come across her quite by accident, plucking her from the crowd for a dance. She stumbled against him, grabbing his hand for balance as he pulled her toward the dance floor. If this was the woman he sought-and every instinct affirmed that-well, it was almost too easy.

Surely, the Heavens smiled on him tonight.

There was one small problem. He couldn't exactly arrest her for treason in a saloon full of Society's finest-none of whom knew he was The Wolf, spymaster for Lord North's Anti-British Activity Committee. To them he was merely Ethan Gray, the rogue who seduced their wives and ruined their daughters' reputations.

He had to devise a way to get the peacock alone. He struggled to keep his voice even as he spoke to her. "Lovely mask."

Colorful plumage framed kohl-lined eyes and splayed across rouged cheeks, leaving a pair of delectable pink lips exposed. And beneath them, a delectably creamy décolletage.

"Thank you," she replied. "Yours is most fierce."

Ethan had come as a tiger, the ultimate predator. The Wolf, dressed as a cat. Unfortunately though, tonight he felt more like prey. The harbormaster's wife, with whom he'd had a fruitful affair but who had since lost both her usefulness and her novelty, had been stalking him through the ballroom since he'd arrived.

He now regretted telling her what kind of mask he planned to wear.

Ethan led the peacock to the middle of the dance floor, where they fell easily into step with the other couples. He had her in his arms only moments before she was whisked away by another partner in the cotillion.

She moved gracefully around the circle, dipping and turning, bewitching each partner with her secretive smile before they were finally reunited for a promenade in the middle of the floor. He gave her an appreciative nod. She might be his enemy, but a finer looking opponent he'd never laid eyes on. He almost wished she wasn't the woman he sought, for he would have enjoyed seducing her.

"I wonder, would you care to take a bit of air with me?"

The question, from her lips, took him aback. She wished to be alone with him? This night really was too good to be true.

He hesitated for a moment, so as not to seem overeager. "A breath of night air with such a beauty would rescue my week from mediocrity."

She laughed-a sound that resonated like the low octaves of a harp-and said, "You needn't flatter me, Sir Tiger. I've been assured me you'll give me exactly what I want."

She'd been assured-? Could it be that some well-meaning friend had set this all up?

"Who, dear lady, has assured you of that?"

She only smiled as if it were all a merry prank.

He danced her to the outer limits of the ballroom floor and behind a towering topiary. He reached for her mask, but she stopped his hand. Her touch was light on his wrist, her fingers long and delicate. "Do you have something for me?"

The brazen invitation sent an instant rush of heat over him. She looked startled, as if she'd felt it, too. Without thinking, he bent, and kissed her. Her lips were like sun-warmed silk beneath his. He cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, stroking her chin with his thumb.

A small noise of surprise caught in her throat, as if a kiss wasn't the "something" she'd been expecting. She released his wrist from her grasp, and he took her by the shoulders, deepening the kiss. When he pulled away, she seemed stunned, like a rabbit in the sights of a fox.

Or a wolf.

She held a trembling hand to her lips.

"I am sorry," he said. "I thought you wanted."

"The key. I want the key."

"What-?"

A commotion on the dance floor caught his attention. People moved aside as Lady Jersey marched amongst the guests, as if looking for someone. She stopped to speak to the harbormaster's wife, who pointed in his direction.

Lady Jersey waved him over.

He attempted to ignore her, but when she sent a footman in his direction, he knew he would have to answer her call, or risk creating a scene. He swore under his breath.

"It would seem I am being summoned by our hostess," he said. "I won't be but a moment."

"Meet me out on the terrace," she murmured.

He nodded, once again thanking the gods for his good fortune.

Lady Jersey met him halfway, her expression of concern comical beneath her heavy Egyptian makeup. "Ethan Gray, is that you beneath that mask?"

"Yes."

"Good! There are two tigers prowling about tonight, and I was afraid I might have the wrong one." Lady Jersey grabbed his elbow and steered him into the relative quiet of the salon next door. He made a concentrated effort to hide his annoyance as she bowed her head close to his. "Lady Frederica needs you."

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"She's crying her eyes out, the poor dear."

His annoyance gave over to concern. It wasn't like his sister Freddie to shed unnecessary tears. He could remember only two other occasions when she'd cried. The first was when she was seven, and Father refused to allow her to take fencing lessons with her brothers. The second occurred was when she was twelve, and Mother forbade her to wear breeches ever again.

But Freddie could wait. He had to get back to the peacock, before his good fortune ran out. "I am sure my sister will be fine, Lady Jersey. Where is her friend Jane? Would she not be more a more able hand in this situation?"

Lady Jersey frowned. "How ignoble of you, Mr. Gray, to leave your sister in such a state."

He sighed. "Where is she?"

Lady Jersey signaled to a servant who hurried to her side. "Show Mr. Gray to the library, please."

#

Freddie huddled beneath a lap blanket on an oversized velvet chaise, a handkerchief pressed to her nose, her butterfly wings and mask flung carelessly on the floor beside her.

She regarded him with red-rimmed eyes. "Oh, Ethan. I've made such a mess of things."

Ethan mentally braced himself. Such a confession could not be good, coming from one so adept at making messes. He sat on the edge of the chaise, taking Freddie's hand in his. It was ice cold.

"I'm certain things cannot be that bad."

She shook her head. Her copper curls bounced wildly. "But it is. I confessed." She swiped her eyes with the handkerchief. "I told Joshua Blackwood I love him." She gave Ethan a defiant look-the same one he'd seen hundreds of times as they were growing up.

He bit back the urge to scold her. "Do you think that was wise?"

"I couldn't help myself. He told me he was leaving. His ship.it's been fitted for war. He's returning to the colonies to fight the privateers."

"'Tis a noble cause."

"'Tis foolishness, as is all war. What if he's killed?"

Ethan sighed. "Freddie, it is the price we must pay for our country."

"I shall never be happy again."

"Nonsense. This so-called war with the colonists will be over quickly, I assure you. A small group of treasonous rebels is no match against Britain's forces. It won't be long before your Captain Blackwood returns to you."

Freddie's eyes brimmed with tears. "He won't be coming back. At least, not to me."

"What makes you think so?"

"He called me a." She sucked in breath. "A spoiled child!"

Ethan bit his lip and said nothing.

Freddie glared at him. "I'm sure you are happy things have ended between us."

"Of course not." In truth, though, he was. Captain Blackwood was ill-suited for his sister. Too rough, too colonial, and too scandalous by far. And although he was but twenty-three, he seemed much older.

On the other hand, Freddie was, in fact, little more than a child. She'd had her debut only last season, and had just reached her eighteenth year. She'd led a relatively sheltered life, and was no match for the likes of Captain Blackwood.

Ethan patted her hand.

"You never approved of our match," she said, with a hint of girlish petulance.

"'Twas more a flirtation than a match, no?"

"But I love him!"

Ethan sighed. "There have been many beautiful women enamored with Captain Blackwood, but none so beautiful as you. If you have not captured his heart, dear sister, perhaps it is because he does not wish it to be captured at all."

Freddie sniffed. "Perhaps."

"Now, dry your eyes, and take heart. If I ever lay eyes on Captain Blackwood again, I promise to thrash him within an inch of his life."

"You will?"

"Absolutely. Besides, there are dozens of gentlemen here tonight willing to do battle for your affections. Not that I approve of any one of them," he added quickly. "But at least they might serve as a distraction."

"I don't want to be distracted," she groused, but rose anyway, and picked up her wings and mask.

"Let me give you a bit of advice. The best way to attract a gentleman is to play your hand close to the vest," Ethan said. "A bit of intrigue goes a long way."

"Is that what tickles your fancy?" Freddie asked, as he hustled her back toward the ballroom.

"What?"

"Intrigue."

Ethan thought of the pretty peacock awaiting him on the terrace. He had more than a few questions for her, and suspected that he wouldn't mind interrogating her one bit. Yes, intrigue was a powerful thing.

He deposited Freddie with her friend Jane, and made for the terrace doors, only to be intercepted by the harbormaster's wife.

"What is the hurry, Ethan? Your pretty peacock has flown away."

Ethan's stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"

"She's gone, darling."

"Gone?"

The harbormaster's wife smiled. "I gave her a friendly warning. One woman to another."

He grabbed her elbow. "What did you say?"

Her eyes blazed, and her smile hardened. "I told her Ethan Gray wasn't a man to trifle with. I told her you'd tear her heart out and have it for breakfast." She laughed. "She couldn't get away from here fast enough."

#

Ethan raced from the terrace toward the stables, the pounding in his ears growing louder as he ran. He soon realized it wasn't his heart, but the beat of hooves on the drive as the peacock thundered past, her feathered costume billowing behind her.

He ran to the carriage house, past a cluster of drivers and footmen, and into the stables, saddling the first mount he came upon. Amid shouts from the drivers and stable hands, he thundered from the stables, hoping to catch his quarry before she reached the cover of the trees along the north road.

He caught her in his line of sight. He pushed his mount, closing the space between them to a quarter league until the moon disappeared behind a cloud, throwing them into utter darkness. He was forced to slow, and when the moon reappeared, the peacock was gone.

He rode for a while before reaching a fork. At the crux of it, in a ditch, lay something white and motionless.

The peacock!

Ethan leaped from his mount and kneeled beside her, sifting frantically through the mass of feathers.

"Damn me." He swore to the moon.

It would seem his luck had given out. He'd found the peacock's feathers, but the bird herself had flown.