Velvet Embrace (58 page)

Dominic sighed. "I suppose I should start by explaining what happened at the
Copely's
ball. I didn't stage that scene in the drawing room, Brie."

She turned to stare at him, her eyes widening. "But those men . . . they knew you would be there.
If you didn't ask them to meet you, then who did?"

"Denise Grayson, I regret to say. She sent them to find me, intending for them to interrupt our discussion exactly as they did. But I was just as surprised as you were when they barged in.

"You might have told me."

Dominic's mouth twisted wryly. "I tried to at the time, but you gave me little chance to explain. Afterward, I was too angry to stay in the same room with you, much less soothe your outraged virtue." He paused, taking a swallow of wine,
then
raised his intent gaze to her again. "I don't find it easy to apologize, Brie, but I would like to say I'm sorry for what happened. I had no intention of subjecting you to such ridicule."

Brie was too amazed to reply. Dominic smiled briefly at her silence,
then
continued. "As for our present situation, perhaps a truce is in order. You have a purpose for coming to France, so do I. I can give you information and protection, whereas you can offer me . . . comfort of a physical nature. A bargain of sorts, struck with reluctance on both sides, but nevertheless one from which we can each profit. On my part, I will refrain from making accusations and questioning your motives. That alone should reduce and friction between us.
On your part . . .

Dominic paused, his eyes searching her face. Then slowly, he moved toward her, till he was near enough for her to feel the heat of his body. Taking her wine glass, he set it on the table
along with his own. "I want a woman in my bed, Brie," he said softly. "Not a shrew or a martyr, but a woman who is passionate and willing."

Brie stared up at Dominic, hypnotized by his gaze, by his nearness. The firelight masked his dark features in shadow, but his eyes burned with their own flames. Seeing the desire reflected in the gray depths, Brie was suddenly flooded with a wave of longing so fierce that she trembled. All thought of arguing fled. There was no past, no future, nothing but this moment. She took the final step toward him, closing the distance between them. Slowly reaching up, she encircled Dominic's neck with her arms, letting her body press against his.

His mouth came down on hers then, hard and hot and compelling, branding her with fierce, possessive kisses as he crushed her to him
more fully. A low
moan sounded in Brie's throat. She could feel Dominic's hands moving feverishly over her body, wanting, needing, taking. . . .

Later, when she lay naked in his arms, her passion spent, Brie couldn't recall how they had come to be in his bed. She remembered Dominic thrusting into her with a fierceness that stopped her breath, even remembered crying out his name as they plummeted from the dizzy, soaring heights of ecstasy together, but she couldn't recall what they had been discussing before that.

Replete, she lay curled against him, her head on his shoulder, drawing dreamy patterns on his flat, hard-muscled stomach while his fingers played lightly in her hair. But she was very much aware when Dominic's arousing hands began to stroke her body again, and she responded with the same wild abandon as before, meeting his ravening need without restraint, surging against him, answering his tormented groans with gasping sobs of pleasure.

Still later, when they were satiated with love making and the fires of passion were merely banked embers, they shared an intimate dinner, acting like lovers, laughing and touching and gazing into each other's eyes. And although the dishes had grown quite cold, no morsel had ever tasted so delectable to Brie, no wine so heady.

The intimate atmosphere vanished when two serving maids came to clear away the remains of their meal. Seeing the frank admiration in the girls' eyes as they shamelessly ogled Dominic, Brie experienced an intense stab of jealousy. Picking up her wine glass, she retreated to a far corner of the room where she no longer had to watch the display of fluttering eyelashes and swaying hips—even though she was still unable to ignore the annoying giggles.

At long last, however, the room became quiet. Brie could hear the scraping of a chair behind her as Dominic rose from the table, then footsteps as he crossed the room to her. She caught her breath as his arms slipped around her waist, wondering how she could experience such a sudden rush of desire at only the touch of his hands.

She felt his breath, warm and tantalizing against her temple, before his lips lowered to nuzzle the bare skin between her neck and shoulder. When his hands moved upward, gliding over the silken material of her wrapper to cup her breasts, Brie leaned weakly against Dominic’s hard frame. A drugging heat was stealing over her, sapping the strength from her limbs.

His hands began caressing her breasts then, his thumbs running lightly over the silk-covered nipples, making Brie shudder with longing. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, my sweet," he murmured huskily in her ear. "We had best try to get some sleep."

But it was not sleep that was on Dominic's mind as he led Brie to the bed and divested her of her wrapper.
Nor was sleep his prevailing need as he rode again between her soft thighs.
He felt only a hungering ache to possess her slim body, to capture the vixen and make her his own; only a fierce need to ease his desire for her—a desire that taunted him to the brink of madness.

Surprisingly enough, the fragile truce lasted. An easy camaraderie sprang up between Brie and Dominic, while
a mellow
warmth invaded their still somewhat spirited relationship.

Dominic proved to be an excellent travelling companion, alleviating the boredom of the long hours by describing the history of the places they passed and sharing amusing anecdotes about his past travels. Occasionally he would hire mounts at one of the posting inns, and he and Brie would ride
horseback
, retiring to the comfort of the coach only when they grew tired of the exercise. Brie soon began to relax in Dominic's company. Sometimes she even felt he was enjoying their private moments as much as she.

She was surprised when Dominic listened with apparent interest to stories of her own life. He seemed particularly intrigued when she told about shooting the stallion that had killed her father in a hunting accident. "But I don't remember it," Brie added hastily, not wanting any sardonic remarks about her predilection for using pistols. "John said that I was in shock and didn't hear him shouting at me. I pulled the trigger before anyone could stop me."

Thinking back to that time of loss, Brie felt her throat tighten. "My father's death affected me more than I would have thought possible," she murmured. "All I remember is feeling this great emptiness inside. Katherine was worried that I would never go back to living a normal life, but I eventually did. I think it was because my father's solicitors tried to convince me I wasn't capable of running Greenwood. They said I should sell and put the money in more experienced hands—meaning a man's hands, of course. But I threatened to take my business elsewhere and they finally gave in."

"You must have found it difficult to run Greenwood, being a woman," Dominic offered gently.

Meeting his eyes, Brie smiled.
"Quite difficult.
At first I was afraid I had made a mistake, for none of my father's clients would trust their affairs to a woman. But I learned to play the game—their way. I sent John to deal with them while I looked after the stables. They would have been horrified to learn that I was the one training their horses, but they never suspected. I couldn't have succeeded, though, if it hadn't been for John. After a year or two, we were able to change places again, and I even had a few successes of my own. And not just with younger men," Brie had said sharply when Dominic flashed
her a
suggestive grin.

The weather turned nasty as they left Paris, and that afternoon they were threatened by a terrific storm. They had put up at an inn that was small and crowded, but while Brie had to share a room with Dominic, she didn't mind; she lay warm and protected in his arms as the storm spent its fury overhead.

It was still pouring the next morning. When a sudden change in the wind made the windowpanes rattle, Brie came awake with a start. Seeing the rain lashing against the leaded glass, she shivered, feeling pity for anyone forced to brave the icy torrent. She buried herself deeper into the quilts, wishing Dominic were there to warm her but not having the energy to wonder where he had gone.

She had not been cold the previous evening—far from it. A soft smile curved Brie's lips as she remembered. She had worn one of his lawn shirts to bed, expecting to have it rapidly removed, but Dominic had seemed content merely to hold her, one strong hand stroking her arm, while the other played absently with a lock of her hair. She had been surprised when instead of making love to
her,
he had merely kissed the tip of her nose and closed his eyes, prepared to sleep.

Already thoroughly aroused herself, Brie felt a spark of irrational anger flare in her.
She was so keenly aware of him that she was almost trembling with anticipation, and as she lay there, molded against his hard, warm body, the intensity of her arousal only increased. She could feel her breasts growing fuller, their hardened nipples straining against the thin fabric of her shirt, while the ache between her thighs grew, spreading hot fingers of sensation through her. And still Dominic did nothing to ease her torture.

A fiery blush came to Brie's cheeks as she recalled her wantonness then. Shifting from her comfortable resting place on his shoulder, she had begun kissing Dominic, tentatively at first, her lips nibbling at his throat and then hair-roughened chest. She could feel his stomach muscles tighten as her tongue flicked out to touch him, so she began licking patterns on his skin, deliberately trying to arouse him. He tasted faintly sweet and salty, and she loved it. Emboldened, she let her hand travel downward over his taut abdomen, stroking, caressing,
her
unpracticed movements tantalizing him with her search to give pleasure.

Brie heard Dominic's sharp intake of breath as her fingers closed around his enlarging member. His manhood felt
scaldingly
hot, but smooth and hard in her hand, like satin over steel. Daringly, she let her lips move lower, her hair cascading over his body as she knelt above him and found his throbbing shaft.

Dominic stiffened as if in pain when Brie teased him hesitantly with her tongue, but he gave a groan of pure animal pleasure when her mouth totally engulfed him. His hand came down on her head, tangling painfully in her hair, guiding her to a sure rhythm.

His response inflamed Brie. She herself was almost wild with hunger by the time Dominic caught her shoulders and rolled her on her back. His mouth clamped down on hers as he raised her shirt to her waist and grasped her hips. And then his shaft was driving deep within her, fiercely, endlessly, his sweet, savage thrusts igniting her senses in a blinding explosion.

She had fallen asleep, still joined to him.

When the pounding of the rain lessened, Brie heard a faint rustling noise. She rolled over and blinked. She had thought herself alone, but Dominic sat at the table near the cheerily burning fire, studying some papers spread out before him. He had covered himself with a dressing gown, she saw, and he looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. His profile seemed less harsh than usual, in spite of the faint growth of bristle on his jaw, and his ebony hair, still tousled, made him look younger and more vulnerable.

As if he had sensed her watching, Dominic looked up and met her gaze. Brie's heart did a complete somersault when she saw the warmth in his gray eyes. She smiled at him, loving the softness in his expression. Dominic briefly returned her smile before shifting his gaze back to his papers.