Wild:. Noelle Mack
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Praise for Noelle Mack…
“Tales of artful seduction all begin with the perfect kiss and then move to much, much more as three accomplished authors sweep you into lively, enticing stories.”
—Romantic Times on PERFECT KISSES
“A sexy romp on the wild side. Compelling characters and chemistry. Mack does an excellent job maintaining sensuality and fire while keeping the reader firmly engaged in the story. Location and theme make this story stand out. A true page-turner.”
—Romantic Times on NIGHTS IN BLACK SATIN, (Top Pick! review)
“Original and romantic time-traveling fantasy.”
—Romantic Times on Noelle Mack’s story in SEXY BEAST II
“Hot sex, humor, and great details about advertising…a winner. Sizzling and innovative.”
—Romantic Times on JUICY, a Top Pick! (four-and-a-half-star review)
“Incredibly sensual and well-done.”
—Romantic Times on Noelle Mack’s novella in THE HAREM
“Mack does a great job of blending sensuality, sexuality, and humor…memorable characters and stories that are romantically satisfying.”
—Romantic Times on RED VELVET (four-star review)
“A truly sensual story that will titillate and captivate readers.”
—Romantic Times on THREE (four-star review)
Also by Noelle Mack
ONE WICKED NIGHT
NIGHTS IN BLACK SATIN
JUICY
RED VELVET
THREE
Anthologies with novellas by Noelle Mack
PERFECT KISSES
SEXY BEAST
SEXY BEAST II
THE HAREM
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
WILD
THE PACK OF ST. JAMES
NOELLE MACK
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
for my favorite wolf
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
1
London, 1815. October…
“A woman is most beautiful when she is waiting to be kissed,” Kyril said. He looked down at her, a sensual fire in his gaze, and his thumb traced the line of her chin. He tipped her face up to his. “And you are the most beautiful woman in London.”
Vivienne Sheridan did not mind if he thought so. Her lips parted as she began to reply to his gallant compliment—but he spoke first.
“May I kiss you, Vivienne?”
He wasted no time. Neither would she. “Yes,” she murmured. A kiss was only a kiss.
Kyril smiled. “Well, then. Come a little closer.”
She obeyed without saying a word. His arm encircled her waist. Her eyes closed as his hand moved down to the side of her neck. He stroked the sensitive skin with his fingertips, easing away every trace of her nervousness. To be touched so tenderly felt wonderful. Blissfully aroused by what he was doing, Vivienne sighed, wishing she was not…
In her drawing room. Fully dressed.
His strong hands made her feel naked. How she wanted his kiss.
But his lips only brushed hers before his mouth moved to her ear and he spoke again, very softly. “May I stay the night?”
She had not expected that. Or at least not so soon. Her answer came quickly. “N-no.”
“Why not?” His low, very masculine voice was as persuasive as his caress.
Vivienne straightened up, a motion that made her bosom rise within the snug-fitting bodice of her gown. She quickly tugged at the décolleté neckline, aware that the delicate lace edge might not be enough to conceal—she stopped when she saw him glance down at it and then up again at her face.
He was too tall not to have seen her nipples.
They tightened. She quelled a wanton urge to wind her arms around his neck and press her breasts against the fine linen of his shirt. But Vivienne was unwilling to leave his embrace and equally unwilling to give in too easily.
“Why not? Ah—I would rather sleep alone.”
Her new bed was her sanctuary, a bower in which she retreated from the world, piled with soft pillows and hung with rose-embroidered curtains. No man had ever shared it.
“Really?”
He drew her body back to his. He inclined his head and nibbled her neck precisely where he had stroked her. Vivienne tried not to moan. The pleasurable stimulation was almost too much to bear, and the light trace of stubble on his chin only added to her excitement.
“Yes. Really.”
“Hmm.” He ceased his gentle biting and relaxed his hold somewhat. But she did not move away from him.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, his gaze heavy-lidded and dreamy when he finally looked at her face again. He touched the small emerald in her earlobe, toying with it. That too was stimulating. It was clear enough what was on his mind.
“Pretty earrings,” he said at last. “The same green as your incomparable eyes.”
“Not quite.”
“You do not like compliments.”
“I do not trust them. But I like them well enough.”
“I meant it when I said you were the most beautiful woman in London.”
“No doubt you did.”
He gave her a level look that held a hint of amusement. Then he touched the other earring. “Can I persuade you to take these off?”
As a prelude to…she would do well not to think about taking anything off if she was going to refuse him. “No.”
“Then I will take them off for you.” Before she could stop him, he removed both jewels and dropped them down her bodice. “There. They will be safe enough.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. A master thief could not have done the trick more deftly.
“Oh!” Her indignant protest faded away when he bent down again to take her earlobe in his mouth and suck it gently. “You—mmm. Never