Captive Bride (12 page)

 
"
Oui
, Papa," Rozalyn replied and then continued on her way.

 
"Did you enjoy your evening?" came Aubrey's absent inquiry.

 
"No, it was the most unsettling evening I have ever experienced," she muttered bitterly, knowing exactly what her father's response would be.

"That's nice.
Bonne nuit
."

 
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Rozalyn trudged up the remainder of the steps. Tess, the plump, round-faced Negress who was in charge of keeping the DuBois mansion in order, was in the hall, and when Rozalyn requested a steaming cup of tea laced with brandy to help her sleep, the old woman eyed her curiously.

 
"You got somethin' troublin' you tonight, girl?" Tess pried, her piercing gaze probing into Rozalyn's as if she meant to read her mind and pluck out the disturbing thought. "It ain't that new beau of yers, I hope."

 
"I seem to have contracted a headache after watching the play," Rozalyn hedged, refusing to divulge that it was a six-foot-two-inch headache with laughing emerald eyes and hair the color of midnight.

 
"Well, it don't s'prise me a bit," Tess sniffed as she waddled down the hall. "Considerin' the hours you've bin keepin'. You do so much comin' and goin' that I git dizzy just watchin' you."

 
A quiet smile grazed Rozalyn's lips after Tess wheeled around the corner and disappeared from sight. The housekeeper did her share of lecturing, but Rozalyn was quite fond of her, though she wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Tess was her grandmother's informant. The two of them fussed over her like mother hens, and they both kept abreast of every rumor in the wind, especially those pertaining to Rozalyn. Yes, Rozalyn was willing to bet Tess and Lenore traded information. How else would Tess have known about her "new beau"?

 
When Tess returned with the brandy-laced tea she presented Rozalyn with a short lecture on the necessity of getting the proper amount of sleep, instead of rising before the crack of dawn and staying out until all hours of the night. Rozalyn was too weary and frustrated to argue with the housekeeper. All she wanted to do was adjourn to her room to sip her tea and grapple with the events of the day.

 
They had begun with an innocent lie, one meant to appease Lenore and bring her peace. Later, to make matters worse, Rozalyn had tried to lie to herself, thereby dragging herself deeper into the web of deceit. Like a silly fool she thought she could resist Dominic's magnetism, his subtle wit, and devastating charm. She had even told herself that her reaction to his embrace was part of her act. But she knew for certain that she had not been acting a few minutes earlier in the carriage. Her heart had overruled her head, and she would have surrendered to Dominic's persuasive gentleness if they had not been interrupted. Dominic had even begged her to deny him and she could not. Could not! Rozalyn groaned miserably, then gulped down another sip of her spiked tea. Her heart was obviously as wild as her spirit, she realized. Why else would she have kissed Dominic with reckless abandon and then offered herself to him? She had always been impulsive, chasing rainbows and whims without forethought. But why did her will power fail her only when she was with that raven-haired devil? Rozalyn cursed when no answer came to mind. She couldn't fathom why she was so drawn to that well-formed mass of brawn and muscle, even when she knew the results of her attraction could be disastrous. She was on shaky ground, but she couldn't reverse direction because of the foolish lie she had told Lenore.

 
Sighing tremulously, Rozalyn set her empty cup aside and peeled off her gown, letting it flutter into a careless heap around her ankles. The caress of the light autumn breeze wafting through the balcony door reminded her of Dominic's tender, coaxing touch. She had learned a great deal more about this handsome stranger in one day than she'd learned about the men who had escorted her about town. Dominic was as ornery and playful as a little boy; yet he possessed a mature man's charm and clever wit. He was an ominous foe and a potentially dangerous lover. But he employed gentle, persuasive tactics, against which Rozalyn had no defense. His warm, protective embrace had proven itself to be more potent than force, Rozalyn was accustomed to retaliating against the energetic assaults of men, but she had been totally unprepared for Dominic's brand of passion. And he was a composite of the things Rozalyn had admired in numerous men, but had never confronted in such a fascinating combination.

 
A demure smile hovered on her lips as she wriggled into her nightgown and then stretched out on her satin sheets. At least she knew Dominic had no intention of using her as other men had attempted to do. He had openly admitted that he had already acquired a fortune and he had no need of hers. What he wanted from her was only that which a man and woman share. If she had not been so sensitive about men courting her father's money she might have been indignant that Dominic wanted her. Oh, she had protested his proposition in a fit of temper, but when after spending an evening with him, during which time he behaved as a gentleman until passion got the best of him, she considered his suggestion more of a compliment than an insult. After all, what woman would want a man who had no physical interest in her? Dominic found her desirable. Was that so wrong? And if it were, why did it feel so right when she was in the sinewy circle of his arms?

 
At least he has been honest, Rozalyn told herself. Unlike Jeffrey who lied through his teeth when he professed to love her instead of Aubrey's money. If she were to give herself to a man, why not to Dominic? He did care for her. Hadn't he said so? Hadn't he apologized for being so blunt in his intentions and hadn't he tried to hold himself at bay, leaving the ultimate decision to her?

 
After years of searching she had happened upon a strong, fascinating man, who possessed a certain boyish charm, and he had proved to be a delightfully amusing companion.

 
A drifting shadow caught Rozalyn's attention, and when she realized she was not alone in her boudoir she bolted straight up in bed. It would have been easier to deal with any intruder but the man who stepped from the shadows to peer into her soul with those incredible emerald eyes.

 
Dominic had managed to remain in the carriage for all of three minutes after Rozalyn had fled to the house. But his vision of her and the jasmine fragrance that remained in the air overwhelmed him. No amount of rationalization could convince him to settle for another woman when he knew it would be Rozalyn's face he would see when he closed his eyes and surrendered to passion. Another woman could relieve him but not satisfy him.

 
After shedding the jacket that had absorbed her alluring scent, Dominic had ambled aimlessly along the street, letting his thoughts wander where they would. His footsteps had followed the train of his thoughts, and he'd found himself standing beneath her balcony, staring up at the beckoning shaft of light shining from her second-story window. Like a moth fluttering toward the flame, Dominic had scaled the lattice and crossed the balcony until
  
a
  
breathtakingly
  
lovely
  
vision
  
stopped
  
him.

 
His body had caught fire as he'd watched his enchanting nymph pull the pins from her hair, allowing it to tumble down her back in a waterfall of glistening ebony, and he had groaned inwardly when she'd drawn away the pink silk wrapper, revealing ivory skin and the body of a goddess. The high, thrusting peaks of her breasts had begged for his touch, and her trim waist had seemed so narrow he'd been sure he could wrap his hands around it.

His gaze had drunk in her curving hips and her shapely legs, worshipping the sight of her.

 
Dominic was burning alive with a fever and Rozalyn was the cause of and cure for his soaring temperature. His pleasure in looking upon her perfect body was so intense it made him ache. He couldn't have turned and walked away, not if his life depended on it. His male instincts had been deprived too often during the course of the day, and he could no longer suppress his primitive urges.

 
Dominic had not meant to come back; his intentions had been honorable. However, his flesh was weak. Now his eyes drank in a captivating goddess dressed in sheer and revealing blue muslin. His hands and lips craved to touch the body it silhouetted.

 
"I should not have come back," he murmured, but he came around to the edge of her fourposter bed.

"No, you shouldn't have," Rozalyn agreed.

 
Her gaze settled on his gaping shirt, taking in the dark matting of hair she had only begun to explore earlier. Her brief investigation had only served to pique her curiosity. Now, in the flickering lantern light, she realized she would never overcome her infatuation for this powerfully built rogue until she proved he was only a man, not some image from an illusive dream.

 
Dominic sank down on the side of her bed as if he belonged there. His emerald eyes flamed with a hunger only Rozalyn could appease as he reached out to tunnel his fingers through the silky tendrils that cascaded over her shoulder. "I tried to leave you, you know," he whispered huskily. "But I could not bid you
adieu
so abruptly, not after what happened in the carriage, I need to apologize."

 
"Apologize for what?" Her brow arched questioningly. She was the one who had scampered off like a frightened rabbit, though she had never been one to run from trouble. In the past she had squared her shoulders and confronted it.

 
"For doing this . . ." Dominic's head lowered deliberately, his eyes focused on her lips as if they were the first pair he had ever seen.

 
Rozalyn didn't realize until too late that she had accepted his apology and had also invited him to continue where he had left off a half-hour earlier. The brandy had impeded her thought processes, and it never occurred to her to resist him. Instead of asking herself why she had allowed this bold man to invade her home in a most inappropriate manner, she wrapped her arms about his neck, and drew him with her to the satin sheets.

 
Lips as soft as summer rain melted beneath Dominic's kiss, and for a long breathless moment he was content just to taste her honeyed response, to inhale the enticing scent that was so much a part of her. But, as before, a kiss was not enough, would never be enough. It only whetted his thirst for this spirited beauty. His hands began to glide to and fro before slipping over her shoulder to cup the full swells of her breasts. Then, with heart-stopping tenderness, his caresses slid beneath the gossamer gown to map the silky curve of her hips.

 
When his bold caresses ventured along her inner thighs, Rozalyn's breath lodged in her throat, but her traitorous body arched instinctively toward his seeking hands. And when his caresses enfolded her soft mound, Rozalyn swore she had inhaled her last breath. Dominic's lips abandoned hers to grant her air, but it was not enough to sustain her when he again assaulted her with tantalizing kisses. Flames leaped across her flesh in the wake of his moist lips, and a tiny moan bubbled in her chest when he took a throbbing peak into his mouth, suckling, arousing, teasing her until she was mad with wanting him.

He seemed to have an extra pair of hands as he explored the unchartered territory of her body, discovering each sensitive spot, his touch triggering shock waves in her. Rozalyn surrendered to the sensations he aroused. Hers was not to reason why, only to respond to his wondrous caresses and to enjoy the pleasures of love, pleasures she had never before allowed herself to experience. Dominic's practiced hands and warm lips melted her resistance and subtly demanded a response, until Rozalyn felt as if she were drifting on a sea of indescribable rapture. His touch was black magic, leaving her soft and pliant.

 
While his tongue tasted her flesh and his skillful hands spun her nerves into a tangled web, Rozalyn breathed a ragged sigh. She craved more of this sweet torment, even as she wondered at the emotions erupting from somewhere deep within her. She cried out softly as his probing fingers invaded her womanly softness, but he silenced her cry with his mouth, stealing her breath and then giving it back in a most satisfying way.

 
He smells so good, so clean, like the outdoors, she thought deliriously as she nuzzled against him. His lips were like soft velvet, his body a warm mass of strength that she longed to feel pressed, full length, against her. As if he sensed her needs, his hard male frame settled over hers, and she felt a gentle pressure as his legs urged her thighs apart. The solid weight of his body blended into hers, and Rozalyn eagerly accepted him, longing to satisfy the compelling urges he had instilled in her.

 
Then a sharp stab of pain splintered her dreamlike trance, and she instinctively shrank away, choking on her breath. Dominic's arms slid beneath her hips, lifting her to him and then slowly withdrawing before she could protest.

 
"One moment of pain will lead to timeless moments of splendor. Yield to me, Roz," he murmured breathlessly against the rapid pulsations of her throat. "It is not my want to hurt you. Never that. I only seek to please, to satisfy. ..."

 
Her body relaxed in response to his coaxing words, though she was not at all certain she believed him. But he did not lie. As he began to move carefully within her the pain ebbed and then blossomed into a strange new kind of pleasure. That sensation grew until it had become yet another exquisite sensation, the one building upon the other, taking her higher and higher still.