The Dragon Lord (7 page)

“Sit and warm yourself, master,” Raj said.“I will fetch us something to eat from the kitchen.”

“What would I do without you, Raj?” Dominic said as he pulled a chair close to the fire.

That is something you will never have to worry about, master,” Raj replied.

Dominic stared into the dancing flames, his thoughts suddenly consumed with Rose. He wondered if she was sleeping and imagined her tucked cozily into bed, waiting for him. His groin tightened as he imagined her nude body, warm and flushed from sleep. He shifted and adjusted his clothing as his cock began to thicken and harden. He hadn’t had a woman since Veronica, and he needed one now.

Raj returned from the kitchen with a tray, shattering Dominic’s erotic thoughts. Raj pulled a table over to the hearth, set the tray down and joined Dominic. Together they demolished a small round of cheese, thick hunks of bread, cold capon left over from the evening meal and slices of roast beef, quaffing ale between bites.

“Remind me to compliment the alewife on the excellence of the brew,” Dominic said as he emptied the tankard.

“More, master?” Raj asked as he refilled his own tankard.

“Nay, I’m off to bed,” Dominic said, rising. “Find your own bed, Raj. We’ve had a full day.”

Dominic glanced toward the solar, wondering if Rose had locked him out again tonight. Anger rose inside him—anger and another, stronger emotion that sent hot blood pounding through his veins. Determination hardened his features as he strode up the stairs and marched resolutely along the gallery. He was in no mood to be thwarted, and woe to his wife if she locked the door against him tonight.

A grim smile curved his lips when the door to the sitting room opened at his touch. He advanced toward the bedchamber, ready to do battle if he found the door locked. His hand froze on the door latch when he heard heart-wrenching sobbing coming from inside the chamber.

Rose was crying! Crying as if her heart were breaking. Had something happened while he was gone?

Testing the door, he found it unlatched and pushed it open.

Rose could not stop crying. She had loved her father dearly and found it difficult to accept his death and all that had happened since. She was alone. Her mother and sister were gone, and her beloved home now belonged to a hard-hearted man who seemed to care naught about her grief or the loss she had suffered.

Rose was still sobbing uncontrollably when she heard the click of the door latch and the sound of footsteps. She suddenly recalled that she hadn’t locked the door after Emily and Blythe left.

Rose sensed Dragon’s presence, and a moment later a candle flame lit the chamber. He cleared his throat, the sound harsh and obtrusive in the waiting silence. She turned slowly and looked into his eyes. Dark currents swirled within their depths as he held her gaze. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his intense perusal and dashed away the tears dampening her cheeks.

The look in his eyes, his scent, the way he stared at her caused a stirring deep within her. His mouth was moving, but Rose heard naught above the pounding of her heart as treacherous warmth began to spread through her. She hated the feeling and called forth all the hatred she felt for the Dragon Lord.

“Did you not hear me? Why are you crying?” Dominic repeated.

Concentrating on his mouth, Rose finally heard what he was saying.

“What are you doing here?” she choked out.

“I belong here. This is the lord’s solar, is it not?”

“Go away. I wish to mourn my father in private.”

“Is that the reason for your tears?”

He sounded relieved, and that made Rose wary. “You did not allow me time for grieving.”

Unable to stop herself, Rose burst into a fresh round of tears. Dominic muttered a curse. Then he settled beside her on the bed and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“Wh … what are you … do… doing?” Rose hiccuped between sobs.

Trying to comfort you,” Dominic replied gruffly. “Your tears disturb me.”

“Why do you care? You let the king murder my father.”

“I did not even know your father.”

Rose believed him, but it did not make her father’s death any less difficult to bear, nor did it soften the blow of having her home possessed and renamed by the king’s champion.

“I am fine now; you can leave,” Rose said dismissively. She did not want this hard, overbearing man in her bedchamber. She had no intention of sharing her bed with him, or letting him use her to sate his lust.

Dominic paid scant heed to Rose’s words. He had just become aware that she was naked beneath the covers. His hand on her shoulder stilled, his fingers tightening around the fragile bones. She was his wife. He could take her now with or without her consent. She belonged to him; her body was his to do with as he pleased.

He pulled her roughly into his arms, his body hardening with anticipation. Rose must have realized his intention, for she protested vigorously and pushed him away.

Her rejection made Dominic remember where he had been today and what he had learned. His temper flared and his grip tightened. “Do you know where I went today?”

“Nay. You did not see fit to tell me.”

“I visited your mother and sister at the convent.”

An involuntary cry escaped Rose’s throat. “What did you do to them?”

Her words brought a scowl to Dominic’s face. “What makes you think I harmed them? I admit I had good reason, but I have never hurt a woman before.” His next words held a hint of menace.“Of course, I’ve never had a wife before.”

Dominic would never intentionally hurt a woman, but Rose did not have to know that. His father had never raised a hand to his mother, though ‘twas common knowledge that most men beat their wives.

“Why did you visit Mama and Starla?” Rose asked.

“To learn the truth.” He glared at her.“You are not the sister I intended to wed. I realized I had been tricked when you locked me out of your bedchamber. Your sister would have been too frightened to defy me. My intended bride is wearing the white robes of a postulant, and the woman I rejected is now my wife. How do you explain that?”

He grasped her shoulders and dragged her against him.“Did you want me for yourself? Was that why you changed places with your sister?”

Her shout of denial did naught to allay the anger gnawing at him.

“How dare you suggest such a thing! I wed you to save my sister. She could not survive being wed to a man like you.”

“And you could?” Dominic asked.

Her chin rose defiantly. “I think so. Starla is exactly where she wants to be, and I…”

His mouth hovered inches above hers.“And you, Rose? Are you where you want to be?”

“Nay, but better me than Starla or Mama.”

Dominic’s thoughts were drowned out by the frantic beating of his heart. Despite himself, the keen edge of his anger had lost its knife-like sharpness, and all he could think about was thrusting his cock inside Rose. His mouth descended on hers. Her lips were soft and warm and salty from her tears. He traced the shape with his tongue and sucked gently on her lower lip. She tried to pull away, but he would not allow it. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth when she opened it to protest.

He enjoyed the taste and scent of her so much that he could not bring himself to stop. His kiss turned hard, demanding, but it was not enough. He ripped the cover away from her body, and his hands found her breasts. She fit his hands perfectly; the plump mounds were firm and pert, the nipples taut. If he did not taste one rosy tip now, he would surely perish. Breaking off the kiss, he lowered his head and sucked a puckered bud into his mouth while thrusting one hand between her clenched thighs and parting her pouting nether lips.

The sudden intake of her breath made his pulse beat harder.

“My lord, nay! Do not do this to me.”

Dominic heard but did not respond. He could not stop.It seemed that all the blood in his body had collected in his groin and pounded there with burgeoning need. She felt hot and moist against his hand. His fingers moved, parted, eased inside her. He felt her stiffen, heard her sobbing. He groaned, wildly eager to thrust himself into her heated center. Her sobbing grew louder, and he lifted his head and stared into her eyes. He did not like what he saw there.

Tears spilled from their glittering depths and coursed down her cheeks. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. Was she afraid of him? No woman had ever been frightened of him. Men feared him, and rightly so, but women were different. He liked most of them, pleased all he had bedded, and they in turn vied for his attention. Taking a woman too frightened to respond did not appeal to him. He removed his hand from between Rose’s legs and held her away from him.

“Why are you frightened? I know you are a virgin and I promise to be gentle. I am not a selfish lover, Rose. I give pleasure as well as receive it.”

“Give it to your mistress. I want it not.”

“My mistress is in London,” Dominic said harshly. “Perhaps I should bring her to Dragonwyck to give me that which you deny me.”

Dominic saw a flash of anger in her eyes and decided he could tolerate anger better than tears.

“Bring your mistress into my home, my lord, and I promise to make your life miserable,” Rose responded.

Dominic’s first inclination was to return her hostility with angry words, but instead he smiled. He did not doubt for one moment that Rose was fully capable of making him miserable in ways he could not even imagine. And for some unexplained reason, he would rather expend his energy taming his wild Rose than wallowing in the arms of his mistress.

“Go away, Lord Dragon,” Rose insisted. “I need time to come to terms with the death of my father and our hasty marriage.”

“How long, Rose?” Dominic demanded. “Will you ever come to terms with our marriage? I need an heir to assure the succession of Dragonwyck. You used trickery to become my wife; now act like one.”

“I did not wed you because I wanted you,” Rose retorted.

“Few women have the luxury of choosing their husbands. Most husbands and wives meet for the first time at the altar. Why should you be any different?”

Rose sat up and pulled the bed covering up to her chin. “You do not want me any more than I want you. You said so yourself.”

Dominic made a dismissive motion with his hand. “What is done is done. Besides,” he said, reaching beneath the covers to caress her breast,” ‘tis my duty to consummate this marriage.”

“Not tonight,” Rose persisted, shoving his hand away. “Mayhap not ever.”

Dominic rolled away from her and landed on his feet.“Have it your way, lady. You are right. You are not the woman I want. The woman I want resides in London. I have never had to force a woman and do not intend to start now. But one day, I vow I will have you beneath me, and though it will be an effort to make my cock rise to the occasion, I will do my best to do my duty by you.”

Turning on his heel, he stormed from the chamber.

 *     *     *

The relief Rose felt was not nearly as powerful as another emotion raging through her. The merciless Lord. Dragon had torn her pride to shreds. Obviously, he could stand her no more than she could tolerate him. There was only one reason he would condescend to consummate their marriage—to keep Dragonwyck and to get an heir. What really galled her was the knowledge that he would be thinking of another woman while bedding her.

She touched her lips. His kisses had seemed genuine enough, but a man with Dragon’s experience could charm a woman into believing anything. Nay, Dragon wanted her not; he had made that abundantly clear.

Dominic’s angry steps carried him back to the great hall. How could he let the termagant get under his skin? Why should he desire a woman who wanted naught to do with him? He had been tricked into wedding a woman whose disposition was as sour as bitter wine. Few men would tolerate a sharp-tongued wife. Rose deserved a good beating, but despite his reputation as a fierce warrior, Dominic had little inclination to administer it.

He sprawled in his chair and watched the flames turn to ashes in the hearth. The chamber was growing cold, and Dominic spit out a curse. What was he doing down here when a warm bed awaited him in the solar? He had no intention of spending another night sleeping in a chair before a dying fire. Only a fool or a coward would let his lawful wife ban him from his rightful place in her bed. His anger returned with a vengeance.

Had the servants been present to see the ferocious scowl on Dominic’s face when he shoved himself to his feet and strode from the hall, they would have avoided him at all cost.

A muscle flexed in Dominic’s jaw as he marched resolutely toward the solar and burst into the sitting room. A half dozen long strides took him to the bedchamber door. He flung it open and stepped inside. The candle he had lit earlier had burned down to a stub, but he saw the bed and Rose’s outline beneath the covers clearly enough. Without breaking stride, he approached the bed.

Rose was sleeping; she did not move despite the fact that he made little effort to be quiet. For one unsettling moment he wondered if she had cried herself to sleep. It should not matter to him, but for some unexplained reason it did. He was not completely lacking in compassion. He would feel just as Rose did if the king had executed his father. Too bad Lord Edwyn had not thought of his family when he committed treason.

Dominic began shedding his clothing, tossing his tunic, hose, braies and boots carelessly aside. Then he raised a comer of the covers and slid into bed beside Rose. The ropes protested the extra weight, but Rose did not stir when he took her into his arms. Warmth surrounded him. An irresistible aura of clean, sweet-smelling innocence enveloped him. His arms tightened. He could not remember feeling this possessive of anyone… including Veronica.

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Veronica had aroused him to extraordinary passion and satisfied him sexually, but not once had he felt possessive of her.

It had to be his new demesne that gave him the sense of tranquility and possessiveness, he decided scant moments before sleep claimed him.It most certainly had naught to do with his belligerent wife. Rose had more thorns than the flower for which she was named.