Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) by Tammy Jo Burns Page A

do,” Rebekah demanded.
    Thorn leaned over her, bracing himself on either side of the bath, effectively trapping her.   “I am not telling you what to do.   It was merely a suggestion.”   They stared at each other long and hard.   He started to pull away when he saw the mangled scars on her back.   “Who did this to you?”
    “Go to Hell,” she whispered, jerking out from under his probing fingers.
    “Such language to be the daughter of a pastor,” he tsked.   He watched as the color leeched from her face.   If possible, she shrunk further away from him.   “Hey, I was only teasing.   Don’t look like that,” he coaxed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  
    “Don’t touch me,” she whispered menacingly.
    He pushed up and away, holding his hands out in front of him.   “Calm down.”   He took several steps back.   “This isn’t the last of this discussion.   I’m going to the Lady Luck .   If you should need anything, send word.”
    “Are you going to see your mistress while you’re there?”
    “That usually isn’t something a wife and husband discuss.”
    “It doesn’t matter.   The twins and I don’t need you.”
    “Don’t pull them into this war between us.   They don’t deserve it.   Whatever you and I feel for each other, I love those children and will do everything in my power to protect them.”
    “Too bad that wasn’t always true.”
    “And what is that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing.   Just leave.   Go to your gaming hell and your harlot.”
    “Good night, wife.”
    She watched him stalk across her room and shut the connecting door with barely concealed fury.   Rebekah felt anger still pulsing through her veins after their argument.   She looked at the sodden bath sheet and slapped her hands against the surface of the water, splashing herself and the floor.   Angry at herself for allowing him to rile her, she roughly scrubbed her body, punishing herself in the only way she knew.   The physical pain was cathartic and kept the tears at bay.   After carefully washing her hair, she stood in the tub and let the water rush off her body in a waterfall.   She twisted her brown hair until it quit dripping water then stepped out onto the wet floor.
    Rebekah flinched as she heard a thud from the connecting room, but she refused to check on Thorn.   She walked next to her bed and rang the bell pull before dragging on a robe.   Rebekah crossed the room to the door and unlocked it to await the maid.   She only waited for a few minutes when a petite, young woman arrived.  
    “May I help you, Lady Wulfe?”
    “Yes, I believe I made a bit of a mess while bathing.”   She waved to the floor behind her.
    “Oh,” the young maid’s eyes widened.   “I’ll be back in just a moment.”   The maid returned shortly and handed Rebekah a couple of the bath sheets before taking the rest to the bathing area to mop up the water on the floor.  
    Rebekah moved automatically, going through the process of drying her hair and changing into her modest nightgown.   At some point, the cold rain had become a thunderstorm.   Just as she was crawling into her bed for the night, she heard the faint sound of whimpering that sounded suspiciously like Ivy.   When she opened her door, she saw the little girl standing on the stairs above, looking lost.   She clutched a doll in one arm and one of the pups stood next to her.   She had her fingers threaded through the pup’s fur.   When the little girl saw her aunt step into the hallway, she ran toward her.
      “Oh, Sweetheart, did the thunder scare you?” Rebekah asked going down on one knee.   She watched her niece nod.   “Come on, then.”   She held out her hand to her.   They had crossed the threshold into her room when she heard the snick of a door.   Zachary peeked his head over the rail above.   “Did the thunder wake you, too?”
    “No,” he said, before jumping at a loud clap of thunder that shook the