Captive Bride (19 page)

 
"Dominic ..." Mariette rolled his name off her sensuous lips in her soft husky voice. Then she strategically wedged herself between Rozalyn and her dashing beau. "I am so pleased to make your acquaintance,
monsieur
," she cooed as she batted her eyes at him.

 
Mariette's sticky-sweet smile was cloying to Rozalyn. The woman was so obvious she was disgusting.

 
"Come, Dominic, spare me just one dance. I want to know everything about the man who has stolen Rozalyn's heart."

 
Like a clinging vine slowly but surely wrapping itself around lattice, Mariette latched onto Dominic, and when she dragged him toward the ballroom, Rozalyn glared at her departing back. Then she turned quickly when she heard the beldame chortling behind her.

  
"Jealous, ch'erie?" Lenore queried as she arched a graying brow. "No need to be. Mariette is but a stuffy bag of silk and petticoats. I predict that Dominic will find her to be shallow company."

 
Rozalyn compressed her lips and frowned. Dominic was a man, wasn't he? And he had been tempted to seek out another wench the previous night. Who could say for certain that he didn't have a penchant for variety? He had claimed to love Rozalyn, but when tempted could he turn his back? And Mariette was tempting. . . . Her beauty attracted men and she had always been a mite promiscuous. She wouldn't think twice about dallying with an engaged man, not when she'd consorted with married ones!

 
"You do love him, don't you?" Lenore asked point-blank. Her bony fingers curled around Rozalyn's arm as she gave her granddaughter a sympathetic smile.

 
"
Oui
,
Grand’mere
, very much," Rozalyn confessed with a heavy sigh. "Mariette's flirtatious games never mattered until now."

 
"If you are concerned, why don't you march into the ballroom and steal Dominic back?" Lenore suggested. "There is no harm in allowing the man you love to know you care enough to protect your interest." The beldame snickered at the distraught expression on her granddaughter's exquisite features. "Dominic is worth fighting for. You know that as well as I do."

 
Like a cavalryman answering a command to charge, Rozalyn proudly drew herself up. She marched toward the ballroom and threaded her way through the crowd of guests who were studying the darkly handsome Dominic and the provocative redhead as they made their way around the floor.

 
Amusement danced in Dominic's eyes when he noticed the flash of temper in Rozalyn's blue eyes. Mariette had already propositioned him twice. If Rozalyn only knew the lurid suggestions that had flown from
Mademoiselle
Jarmon's pink lips . . . Dominic didn't want to think about what might happen in that case. Rozalyn already looked as if she were itching to sink her teeth into something, preferably Mariette.

 
"Ah, there is Rozalyn," Dominic announced as he forced Mariette back to a respectable distance.

 
Mariette's lips jutted out in an exaggerated pout when she spied the shapely brunette. As a wealthy heiress, Rozalyn had her pick of the crop, but this ruggedly handsome beau put all others to shame. How she envied Rozalyn's way with men. They flocked to her like kittens on the trail of fresh milk, but no man had met Rozalyn's expectations until this powerfully built rogue came along. Mariette wasn't blind. She knew Rozalyn cared deeply for Dominic, but the thought of causing Rozalyn distress delighted her. It would console her for all the times she'd gone home angry because her escort had spent more time dancing with Rozalyn than his own date.

 
"I hope you don't mind my intrusion," Rozalyn commented, an undertone of irritation in her voice. "After all, Dominic is my fiance."

 
"But I do mind," Mariette purred. "I was having a perfectly marvelous time getting to know Nicki. He seems to have led such an exciting life."

 
Nicki? Rozalyn rolled her eyes in disgust. "Hasn't he though." She chided herself for resorting to sarcasm, but her temper was simmering. It was difficult to overcome her urge to snatch up the punch bowl and dump it on Mariette. Rozalyn had the feeling it would take such a drastic measure to cool Mariette's lust for her fiance. She reflected that Mariette's scruples had been squashed flat because she spent so much time on her back.

 
However, using the same tactic Mariette had employed earlier, Rozalyn wormed her way between the pair. Then she practically led Dominic into the waltz in her attempt to put more distance between him and the sultry redhead.

 
"A mite obvious, weren't you?" Dominic's dark brow tilted mockingly as he gathered Rozalyn in his powerful arms. "Only last night when you warned off your unsavory friends, you praised my ability to defend myself. Didn't you think I could handle Mariette?"

 
"I did not doubt your ability to do so," Rozalyn assured him flatly. "Only your desire to resist temptation."

 
"You were jealous." Dominic laughed softly, his lips brushing over her temple.

 
Rozalyn's anger melted when he pulled her against him. "Extremely," she confessed.

 
"Put your fears to rest," he murmured, his voice like a velvety caress. Dominic bent Rozalyn backward, forcing her to clutch his shoulders or risk falling flat on her back, and his eyes glowed with lambent hunger as his head moved deliberately toward hers. "I know what I want,
amie
. Nothing or no one is going to distract me."

 
The seductiveness of his tone and the alluring sparkle in his eyes left Rozalyn limp with pleasure. She didn't care that the guests were grinning at them. Dominic was creating a spectacle for St. Lo
ui
s' most distinguished citizens, but Rozalyn was oblivious to that fact. She accepted his flaming kiss, and her heart ran away with her as his questing tongue probed into the dark recesses of her mouth. In that warm, sensuous moment, time slowed to a crawl. The entire ballroom and Lenore's guests faded into a foggy haze. Only the two of them existed, expressing their intense love for each other.

 
Rozalyn finally returned to her senses when a wave of applause rippled across the ballroom. She fought her craving to escape to the terrace and continue what they had only begun for when Dominic touched her, all thought evaporated. Now she knew only the wild yearning he so easily instilled in her.

 
Dominic drew a ragged breath as he pulled Rozalyn back into an upright position. Then he flashed the grinning bystanders a sheepish smile before turning his attention back to Rozalyn.

 
"It is most fortunate that you are followed by a slightly scandalous reputation,
cherie
," he chuckled as he whirled her around the dance floor. "Otherwise, we might be tossed out on our backsides for that public display of affection.

 
"Are you complaining?" Rozalyn moved closer to the fire that was burning her inside and out. "Could it be that you are having misgivings about playing this charade for
Grand’mere
?"

 
"Complain about a fiery kiss?" Dominic grinned roguishly. "Certainly not,
mademoiselle
," he protested.

"My only complaint is that I am forced to do the gentlemanly thing and keep my hands to myself. Were we alone, I assure you, nothing could save you from my zealous attention."

 
A tingle of excitement raced across her skin. Lord, how she adored his rakish smile and the sparkle in his emerald eyes. "Were we alone, I assure you that the very last thing on my mind would be being saved."

 
"Brazen gamin," he taunted with a low growl. "Don't entice me. With very little persuasion I will whisk you off into the night, forgetting that your grandmother has spent the last few days in frantic preparation for this grand ball."

 
Rozalyn's expression suddenly sobered, and her lashes fluttered up to critically survey his reaction to her upcoming question. "And what if
Grand’mere
does press the issue? What if she summons the clergyman and transforms this engagement party into a wedding ceremony?”
  

Dominic broke stride in the middle of the waltz, and his penetrating gaze bored into Rozalyn's for a long, silent moment. His conscience had already begun to bother him so he felt the need to be honest with her, to tell her what had brought him to St. Lo
ui
s. The fact that Aubrey DuBois was her father complicated matters. An explanation, poorly handled, could be disastrous. Dominic wasn't certain there was ample time or that this was the proper place for a lengthy account of the events that had led them into this tangled web of deception, but he had not counted upon his maddening attraction to this lively spitfire. Nor had he anticipated that the dowager would hustle them through a whirlwind courtship to the threshold of wedlock. Dammit, it wasn't that simple!

 
His conflicting emotions were mirrored in his eyes and his lengthy silence caused Rozalyn's spirits to drop a notch. As doubt clouded her mind, she began to wonder if she had assumed too much. Dominic seemed reluctant to wed her. Rozalyn silently laughed at the irony of life. For the past three years she had been constantly hounded by men who would have leaped at the chance to wed her and her father's fortune. Now the tables were turned. Dominic had offered no binding commitment. He had only confessed that he loved her. Why had she taken him so seriously when she had been cynical of such professions in the past?

 
Perhaps she had allowed this affair to move too quickly. She must not let Lenore maneuver her into marriage, for it would break her heart to learn, too late, that Dominic had no intention of offering a lasting love.

 
Slipping from his encircling arms, Rozalyn strolled toward the refreshment table to seriously contemplate the matter. If it truly was marriage Dominic wanted, then he would have to suggest it. She had always been a bit unconventional, but she was not about to ask Dominic for his hand. Perhaps he desired only to be amorous until his fascination faded and he fell out of love. That prospect frightened Rozalyn. She knew she had found a man who matched her in spirit, but Dominic was much more worldly and experienced than she. His philosophy of love might be quite different from hers.

 
Silly fool, Rozalyn chided herself as she swallowed her pride along with a sip of punch. Guard your naive heart or it could well be broken.

 
But, confound it, she didn't want to hide her emotions. She had been forced to keep them bottled in her dealings with her father. Indeed, she had spent nine painful years learning not to cry when she was aching inside because Aubrey ignored her. For once in her life she wanted to allow her emotions to flow freely. She had partially emerged from her cautious shell when she'd expressed her feelings for Dominic, but there were risks involved in loving him, risks Rozalyn considered worth taking.

 
"Rozalyn, we need to talk," Dominic insisted as he took the glass from her hand and set it aside.

 
"It can wait." Rozalyn forced a faint smile and tucked her emotions into a dark corner of her heart. She was not going to force Dominic into matrimony.

 
"No, it cannot," he contradicted as he propelled her toward the terrace door.

 
However, the orchestra struck up a lively tune, and Rozalyn was pried from his arms and herded into a circle of men who intended to share her delightful company before she consented to wed the man who had possessively kept her by his side. Dominic growled irritably at this untimely interruption. Just when he had mustered the nerve to tell her the truth, Rozalyn had been carted off to join in a folk dance.

 
But Rozalyn welcomed the interruption. She uttered no protest as she was passed from one pair of arms to another. This separation would allow Dominic to come to a decision. She had never wanted to be forced into marriage, and he would never be content if he was forced into it.

 
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Dominic rammed his hands into his trouser pockets. Then, deciding it best to rehearse his explanation in a quiet nook where he could hear himself think, he made his way to the foyer. What he had to confess to Rozalyn would not come easily. He could not risk a misunderstanding. With Roz's quicksilver temper, he could not expect her to calmly wait for him to unfangle his tongue. Hell! He should have anticipated Lenore's manipulativeness. He knew how anxious the dowager was to see her granddaughter wed, and he was certain the spunky old woman had planned the entire scheme.

 
As a matter of fact . . . Dominic stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner. Lenore, the supposed invalid, was dancing around her wheelchair as if it were a partner while a catchy tune drifted from the ballroom. Why, this conniving old woman had been feeding on Rozalyn's sympathy! Dominic snorted in disbelief. Lenore's sick spells and coughing spasms had been an act! No wonder she'd appeared ten years younger when they'd arrived. The dowager had undoubtedly wiped the chalky paste from her face and had erased a few painted wrinkles!
Mon Dieu
. Now the decrepit beldame was prancing around in her secluded corner as if she were dancing on air. Rozalyn didn't have the foggiest notion she had been manipulated into finding a beau. That scheming old witch had been wheezing and choking as if she were on her death bed when nothing could have been further from the truth. Of all the underhanded, deceitful ...