Page 13 of Pleasure and Mane
Oh, Caius.Quinn's heart ached as she watched him struggle with memories that still haunted him.
"Three of my pride died that night," he continued, his voice rough with self-recrimination. "Good men with families who trusted my judgment. They followed me into hell because I was their Alpha, and I led them there because I wanted to prove how strong I was instead of how smart I could be."
The clock ticked steadily in the corner, marking time while Quinn absorbed the magnitude of what he'd shared. She could picture him at eighteen—barely more than a boy, thrust into leadership and desperate to earn respect from older, more experienced pride members.
"But your pride never blamed you," she said gently, recognizing the truth in his tortured expression.
"They should have." His knuckles were white where they gripped the wine glass. "Instead, they became more loyal and more trusting. Which terrifies me because every decision I make now carries the weight of those consequences. I know that any choice, any moment of poor judgment, could cost the people I've sworn to protect."
Quinn reached across the table without thinking, covering his clenched fist with her hand. His skin was warm, and she felt him stiffen at the contact before slowly relaxing.
"From what I've observed of Leon today, and watching you interact with your family, you're doing an incredible job," she said firmly. "You've learned from that mistake and become the kind of Alpha they need. They're lucky to have someone who cares so deeply about their wellbeing."
Caius turned his hand palm-up beneath hers, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in a gesture so tender it made her pulse flutter.
"Thank you," he said simply, but the gratitude in his eyes ran much deeper than those two words could convey.
They sat in comfortable silence, hands linked across the table while dessert plates sat forgotten between them. Quinn marveled at how natural this felt—offering comfort to a man she'd met only hours ago, yet who had already shared more of his true self than most people revealed in months.
"Have you seen the gardens yet?" Caius asked eventually, his voice having recovered its usual confident timbre. "The grounds behind the mansion?"
"I haven't had a chance."
"Would you like a tour?" He stood, extending his hand with old-fashioned courtesy that made her heart race. "The moonlight makes everything look different."
Quinn accepted his hand, trying to ignore how perfectly her fingers fit between his. "That sounds lovely."
They stepped through French doors onto a stone terrace that overlooked sprawling gardens bathed in silver moonlight. The air carried the scent of jasmine and roses, with an underlying earthiness that spoke of rich soil and growing things.
"It's breathtaking," Quinn breathed, taking in the carefully planned pathways that wound between flowering shrubs and ornamental trees. "Did you design this yourself?"
"My mother started it," Caius said, guiding her down stone steps toward a stone path. "I've just tried to maintain her vision."
They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Quinn was acutely aware of Caius beside her—the way he shortened his stride to match hers, and how his presence seemed to emanate warmth and strength even in the cool night air.
When they reached a circular clearing where a fountain bubbled quietly in the moonlight, Caius stopped walking. The breeze picked up, carrying the intoxicating scent of night-blooming flowers and rustling the leaves overhead into a gentle symphony.
"Quinn," he said, and something in his deep voice made her turn to face him fully.
The moonlight transformed him into something almost mythical—all sharp angles and masculine beauty, his blue eyes burning with an intensity that stole her breath. When he stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, every rational thought fled her mind.
"I should tell you to run," he said roughly, his hand rising to cup her cheek with devastating gentleness. "I should send you back to Denver where you'll be safe from... this."
But even as he spoke, his thumb was tracing the line of her cheekbone, and Quinn felt herself melting into his touch like candle wax.
"What if I don't want to be safe from this?" she whispered, surprised by her own boldness.
Something primal flashed in his eyes—a hunger so raw it made her knees weaken.
Then his mouth was on hers, soft and tentative at first, as if he was giving her a chance to pull away. But Quinn had no intention of retreating. She rose on her toes, her hands fisting in the soft fabric of his henley as she kissed him back with all the pent-up longing that had been building since the moment they'd met.
The kiss deepened, becoming demanding and desperate. Caius's arms came around her waist, pulling her firmly against his hard chest while his mouth moved over hers with skilled precision that made her head spin. She could taste wine and dark chocolate on his tongue and could feel the barely leashed power in his embrace.
This is insane,she thought dimly as fire raced through her veins.I don't do this. I don't lose control with men I barely know.
But when Caius groaned low in his throat and pressed her back against the fountain's stone edge, Quinn discovered she was perfectly capable of losing control. His hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss further, and she felt herself dissolving into sensation.
Just as she thought he might lift her onto the fountain's ledge—or better yet, carry her straight to his bedroom—Caius suddenly wrenched himself away. He stood breathing hard, his hair disheveled from her fingers and his blue eyes wild with suppressed desire.
