Caressed by Moonlight (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

The door was quickly and silently shut behind her. Victoria slowly walked to the center of the office. She glanced at the fire burning in the hearth. She longed to rush over to the blaze and fall to her knees at its warmth.

“Oh my God, what happened?” he demanded as he rounded his desk. Dorian was shocked to see her is such a horrible state. She was a drenched mess. Her clothes were plastered to her body, leaves speckled her hair, and her eyes were red from tears.

She shivered like an abandoned kitten.

“I'm sorry to have disturbed you.”

“Think nothing of it, sweetheart.” He wrapped an arm around her, wetting his clothes as he pulled her against him. She roped her arms about his waist, clinging to his heat as he led her to the fire. He sat her down on the rug and rubbed her hands between his own trying to give them life.

“I know you did not wish to have visitors tonight, but I had nowhere else to go.”

“You are more than welcome here,” he assured her with a charming smile. “I am happy that you have come but it is improper. What if someone saw you, tongues could be waggling even now.”

She turned away from him and fixed her gaze on the fire.

“It doesn't matter anymore.”

Dorian was taken back. What had happened to cause this sudden change in her? She looked defeated and it ripped at his cold ancient heart. There was no longer a shred of doubt in his mind that Mark had been correct in his assumption and that terrified him. For some unknown reason, he had grown attached to this wet kitten. It horrified him that Mark knew if he hurt Victoria, he would hurt him. He cursed silently. Only a lowly rat would use such a dirty trick.

He decided that now was not the time to be thinking of such things. She needed to get warm before she went into shock.

He took her up in his arms, in spite of her protests.

“I can walk,” she said haughtily.

He smiled. Despite how she looked, her spirit was still intact.

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“Yes and it is such a pretty little walk, but you are chilled to the bone. We need to get you dry and warm before you fall ill and die on me. I would not like that at all, Victoria.”

He shouldered the door opened and bellowed for Ophelia who promptly appeared at his side.

“Heat some water for a bath and bring some hot tea to my room. Ms. Kingston must get warm.”

“Yes, sir.” Ophelia hurried down the hall to the kitchen.

“Your room?” Victoria sternly repeated.

He chuckled as he felt her body stiffen in his arms. “Don't fuss sweetheart, you will have a room all to yourself later, but the only tub in this house is set up in my chamber. A hot bath does sound nice, doesn't it?”

“Of course,” she answered with a nod.

They entered his room and he set her down on her trembling feet. He tossed her his robe that rested on his bed.

“You can go in there and change,” he said pointing to his closet.

She hugged the robe to her chest. His scent was thick on the soft material and it calmed her nerves.

“I know you are wondering why I am here,” she whispered.

“I will be asking you all those questions later. First you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

She turned and headed to the closet. Dorian waited until she closed the door to go to the room across the hall and start a fire.

He would have no problem sharing his room and bed with her but he knew she would. It was the right course to take; he was not the kind of man to take advantage of a woman. Though he had to admit he would be hard pressed not to take her in his arms and console her.

He returned to his room to find her standing by the window that over looked the street. Droplets of rain ran down the glass much like the tears that dripped from her brilliant emerald eyes. He crossed the room to stand behind her. He wanted to say something comforting and reassuring but he had never been good with those kinds of words. Vampires were lacking in compassion.

“I now understand why my parents hated London,” she stated, her voice tired and rough.

Dorian placed a hand on her shoulder and slowly turned her around to face him. Their eyes met and held for what seemed like blissful years. The knock on the door broke their trance and
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Dorian bade enter. Dobbins carried buckets of steaming water followed by his wife who lugged buckets of cool water. Dorian took the water from Ophelia and helped Dobbins empty them into the large brass tub. When the task was done he excused himself, his servants following him, leaving Victoria alone in privacy and thought.

She slid the robe from her shoulders and sank into the hot water. It heated her flesh and bones immediately. She sighed and rested her head on the brim. She was exhausted; it had been a chaotic day. Tears welled once more but she pushed them back.

Weeping would not solve anything. She needed to think. She needed a plan. She had to marry. She had to propose to a suitor, but Victoria knew next to nothing about the gentlemen. The only man she knew well was Rogers and he was out of town. She wished that Lana were here to help her make this decision. She did not have time to wait for either of them to return. She needed to find a husband now so she could take custody of Margaret.

Her head ached from all the worry. She hoped that Dorian could help her in some way. Maybe he knew the men on her list.

She slowly washed and relaxed in the soothing water, then dried off with the towel that Dorian had left her and redressed in his robe. Victoria patted her hair dry before opening the door. She looked up and down the hall before heading to the stairs. She was certain that she would find Dorian in his study.

Victoria lightly pushed open the door and there he lay on his sofa, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. His arms were crossed over his wide chest, his long legs stretched out. He looked like a large jungle cat lounging, waiting for his prey to skip by. She closed the door behind her and came to stand above him. He turned to gaze up at her, his sea blue eyes sparkled with questions, but he did not say a word.

She looked like an angel standing there in his deep red robe. It was almost ten sizes too big and pooled at her feet. She was absolutely adorable. Her cheeks were flushed from the bath and her skin smelled like sweet lavender. Dorian clenched his fists, resisting the urge to pull her down on top of him.

“I think it’s time I share with you my entire situation,” she said as she sat in one of the over sized armchairs by the fire, her hands resting lightly in her lap. She took a deep calming breath.

“Do you remember the first night we met?’

“Even in a million years I will remember,” he answered truthfully.

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Victoria rolled her eyes and continued, “I told you that my parents had died?”

“Yes.”

“When they passed on my younger sister was left in my care, along with my father's debts. I had to sell everything that we owned, including the family estate, to pay his creditors. That left me with no way to care for my sister. We were forced to move to London to live with our Aunt Nelly. Upon my arrival, Nelly made it very clear that she did not wish to be burdened with my presence.

She wanted me out of the house and out of her hair. She presented me with a nearly impossible deal. I would marry at the end of the month or be thrown to the streets and never be allowed to see my sister again. You see, Mr. Vlakhos, if I am proven unfit to provide for my sister, Margaret, she will remain with my aunt. I can't allow that to happen.”

“That defiantly explains why you were in such a hurry to find a husband.”

“That is not all. I know you are aware of the rumors that have been circling about us, slandering my good name. She has over heard them and tonight she watched us from the window when you dropped me off.” Her cheeks grew hot. “And she saw me kiss you.”

He smiled at her blush. He wanted to kiss her now, but he restrained himself.

“We quarreled,” she said not wishing to go into detail of their argument. “And the deal we had has been broken. I am hereby banned from the house and my sister.”

“I see,” Dorian said, sitting up.

“I must marry,” she stated. “I favored Lord Rogers over the rest of my suitors, but he is not here. I have no choice but to choose between the men that are.”

His stomach tightened. He did sympathize with her plight.

She needed a husband to regain custody of her sister, her last true relative. The girl meant everything to her; he could see it in her eyes. He had originally wanted Victoria to marry a simpleton and come to his bed, but now the last thing he wanted to do was help her into another man's arms.

“Do you know anything about the gentlemen that have been courting me?”

“I'm sorry,” he said shaking his head. “I have no information that will help you.”

“But, you knew about Lord Rogers's faults.”

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“I am a keen observer,” he answered.

“You must have observed the others.”

“I'm afraid not. I knew that Rogers was my main competition, you had next to no interest in the rest of the group, so I focused on him.”

Victoria dropped her eyes to the rug. Dorian could not help her. She had been foolish to think he could. The man was not very social.

It was not entirely true what he had said. He did know a few things about the other men, but he would not share that information. He had interfered in her life only wishing to accomplish his own selfish goal. Yet it did not matter, he could not bring himself to shove her at another man. The thought of it made him sick.

“Then, I suppose I will have to make the decision on my own. In the morning, I will propose and by the end of the day, I will be married.”

“You can't do that,” he declared.

“And why not?” she defiantly asked. “I need a husband and at this point any gentleman with wealth will do. I know how it sounds but I don't care, it is the truth.”

“Damn it! You can't just pull a name out of a hat.”

“That is a good idea,” she said thoughtfully.

“No, it isn't,” he snapped coming to his feet.

“What do you care?” she demanded. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He clenched his jaw. He knew that his words would some day come back to bite him. It was true, he had made it clear he wanted her to marry, get bored with her husband, and move on to him, but not anymore. He could not stand another man touching her.

“Dorian, I have to do this, I have to keep my sister. It is the only way.”

“I will not allow you to throw your life away.” He was beginning to panic and it did not sit well with him. He would not lose her. “You can't just settle on any man. You are a special woman, Victoria.”

She was surprised by his words and even more surprised when he pulled her up by her shoulders. He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes.

“There is one man that you have not considered, one man that is not on your list.”

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“Who?” Her voice was a whisper.

“Me,” he stated plainly. “Marry me.”

“Oh, be serious,” she scoffed pulling away from him.

“I am being serious.”

“Surely, you jest.”

He was not laughing, not chuckling, not even smiling. She was growing uncomfortable under his intense sober stare.

“I am completely sincere, I assure you.”

He had gone mad. He had felt cornered and there was no way to escape. She threatened to go off to another man's bed. He had thought that was what he wanted, but he was dead wrong. He could not, would not share her with any man, he wanted her for his own and by marrying her he would get exactly what he wanted.

And so would she.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I'm sorry, Vlakhos, but I can be a jealous woman and I would not want my husband sneaking off in the middle of the night to go entertain himself with a common trollop.”

“You have me all wrong,” he said gripping his chest in mock pain. “You wound me to the heart.”

She raised an unbelieving brow at him.

“I don't bed common trollops,” he clarified.

Victoria rolled her eyes, “I fail to see the difference between a low born loose woman and a high born loose woman.”

“The titled ladies tend to smell better.”

“What about the gypsies?” she tossed back.

Dorian laughed, he was not surprised she had heard that story. “They were clean. I made sure of it.”

She snorted at his insinuation. “Can you tell me why I should marry you?”

“Well, it is partly my fault that you are in this mess, if it weren't for me you would still have another two weeks to find a husband. The
ton
already thinks that we are having an affair and in their eyes it would be right and proper if we marry. I am also a man of great wealth and class. You and your sister will be well provided for. You will want nor need for anything and only receive the best.”

Every word rang true and Victoria was stunned into silence. There was nothing she could say.

“If you marry me, we will both get what we desire.”

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She turned and found him gazing down at her, his eyes burning with hot flames. He smiled and stepped toward her. He slipped his hand behind her neck and lowered his head. His lips just a fraction from hers, he whispered, “I desire you.”

She could have melted into a puddle. His hand felt so warm on her flesh and she longed for him to move them over her body. They would sear her flesh with pleasure. His touch shattered her thoughts and boiled her blood. Her heart pounded.

“And you desire me,” he said, moving his mouth to her ear. His voice shook her very bones.

She closed her eyes tight trying to grasp her thoughts and senses. There was nothing that she would like more than to become Mrs. Dorian Vlakhos, she had often times fantasized what it would be like to have that gorgeous, powerful man all to herself. But she knew that it would never be so. She knew that he would not be faithful, that he would still go about as if he did not have a wife.

He did desire her, but he did not love her.

“I swore I would never marry a whoremonger.”