Captive Bride (16 page)

 
Dominic clamped his hand over her mouth to shush her. "Lower your voice, Roz. You will surely raise the dead." He chuckled, and his warm breath tickled her neck as he leaned close in case she felt the mischievous urge to topple him off the horse's rump. "I was not particularly impressed with the company you were keeping either, minx. And I know damned well who robbed me when I arrived in the city. It was your dark-haired friend who graciously offered me his chair."

 
"It's a pity Gil didn't do more than relieve you of your money," Rozalyn grumbled spitefully after she ripped his hand away from her mouth. "It might have saved me . . ." Her sluggish voice trailed off as six masked men swarmed them, blocking escape in any direction.

 
Dominic cast her a disgusted glance. "Did you sic your pack of guard dogs on me?"

"I didn't plan this," Rozalyn protested.

 
"Spare me a proclamation of innocence," Dominic scowled as he reached for his flintlock, but his hand remained poised for he thought it best to let the weapon stay in his belt.

 
"Climb down, mister," one highwayman ordered brusquely. "Yer jinglin' pockets are like a bell calling people to church on Sunday. It ain't healthy for a man to be toting such a heavy purse."

 
As Dominic grudgingly swung to the ground, Rozalyn caught the deadly gleam in his eyes. She had witnessed that same dangerous expression in them when Jeffrey had made the foolish mistake of pouncing on him outside the theater. Nervously, she gazed back and forth between Dominic and the six men who were closing in on him. She knew the raven-haired devil was sizing up his competition. His powerful body was tense. Like a jungle cat he awaited the appropriate moment to attack, even when he was so outnumbered.

 
"You caught me off guard when last we met," Dominic said evenly, his cold green eyes boring into Gil's mask. "But not tonight. Call off your pack of wolves, Rozalyn. They may eventually get the best of me, but I swear I'll take at least half of them with me."

 
Mocking laughter echoed through the crowd of men and Harvey stepped forward to aim his pistol at Dominic's heaving chest. "My, ain't we the arrogant one," he snickered. "Do you fight as well as you boast?"

 
With a lightning move, Dominic kicked the pistol from Harvey's hand, and it sailed through the air, discharging when it bounced on the ground. As Dominic recoiled, like a rattlesnake preparing for his second strike, the startled thieves fell back, attempting to decide whether they should believe what they had seen. Harvey just stood there, his empty hand tingling from the force of the blow, his jaw sagging beneath his mask. Dominic had sprung so quickly that he'd had no chance to pull the trigger before his pistol was gone.

Apprehension flooded over Rozalyn and she hurriedly fished into her pocket to retrieve enough funds to compensate the losses the men had sustained at Dominic's hand. "Take the money and leave," she hurriedly ordered when the men recovered their composure and stalked toward Dominic once again. "It isn't worth fighting over."

 
"Are you sure you want to let this stranger escort you home?" Harvey croaked, his eyes widening incredulously.

 
Harvey was certain Rozalyn would approve of their retaliation. Indeed, the only reason he had allowed this bewitching lass to be led from the tavern by this rogue was to set the man up for a robbery. Harvey was flabbergasted because Rozalyn wasn't encouraging them to attack.

 
"I have witnessed
Monsieur
Baudelair's fighting tactics," Rozalyn informed him. "Dominic makes no empty threats. I do not relish seeing my friends torn to pieces for the sake of a few coins. When Dominic claimed he would take three of you with him when he fell, he was being modest." Her gaze focused on Harvey's dubious frown. "My prediction would have been four. Which of your men will you select to be the two who will walk away unscathed?"

 
The silence was so thick Rozalyn could have stirred it with a stick. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief when the men backed away, eying Dominic with considerably more respect now.

 
This lady was not one to blow the truth out of proportion, Harvey mused as he knelt down to retrieve his flintlock. If Rozalyn swore the brute had the tough hide of a rhinoceros and the disposition of a disturbed grizzly, Harvey would be prone to believe her. And to confirm her claim, Dominic had used his entire body as a weapon of defense.

A faint smile sparkled in Harvey's eyes as he tucked the coin pouch in his pocket and nodded his thanks to Rozalyn. "We was intendin' to take up a collection for Corbin after the card game. His wife and kids will be most grateful for yer contribution since he's laid up."

 
Rozalyn rummaged through her vest for some remaining coins and then tossed them to Harvey. "Don't let them go hungry while Corbin recuperates."

 
"Yer a saint, my Lady," Harvey murmured as he ambled over to grasp Rozalyn's hand in his own. His hazel eyes searched hers for a long, thoughtful moment before he whispered confidentially, "Are you sure you don't want us to follow you home? Just in case this fellow gives you trouble?"

 
"No," she insisted. "My concern was for your welfare. He is very agreeable when no one crosses him."

"But what if he—" Harvey tried to argue.

 
"I will be fine." Rozalyn cut him off, and then gestured toward the bulging purse Harvey carried in his pocket. "Deliver the donations to Corbin's family and let me worry about our friend."

 
Reluctantly, Harvey pivoted away, but not before casting Dominic a warning glance. "If you hurt that girl, you will answer to me, Baudelair. I may need to recruit an army to get my revenge, but I promise you will pay if you harm a hair of that angel's head."

 
Angel? Dominic rolled his eyes heavenward as the men faded into the shadows. It was obvious that the love-struck thief had overlooked Rozalyn's cantankerous qualities. As far as Dominic could tell, Rozalyn was a strange mixture of seraph and witch. She bestowed warmth, compassion, and affection on her unruly friends, but Dominic had been on the receiving end of her temper once too often not to know there was far more to the feisty lady than Harvey perceived.

 
It still amazed him that this heiress was drawn to the unfortunates who swarmed on the wharf.
 
Although Rozalyn was rich and beautiful, she seemed to thrive when she was mingling with the common people of St. Lo
ui
s. What is it about Harvey Duncan that draws her allegiance? he wondered, and his gaze circled back to the improperly dressed lass who sat atop her bay stallion.

 
"Don't you have any normal friends?" Dominic's tone was mocking.

 
Rozalyn looked down her nose and bristled at his inquiry. Indeed, if Dominic had not grasped the reins, Rozalyn would have left him afoot, his question unanswered.

 
"There is nothing wrong with my choice of friends," she declared hotly and then flinched when Dominic hopped up behind her. "We look out for each other. We care about each other. There is no pretense of friendship in the streets." Her sharp gaze riveted over Dominic as she turned in the saddle. "I cannot say the same for a certain aristocrat whom I have recently met."

 
Dominic breathed a frustrated sigh and then snatched the reins from Rozalyn's hand. "I suppose you are referring to the incident with Molly Perkins," he grumbled as he aimed the steed down the street.

 
"Precisely." Her back stiffened when his hard contours came into contact with her.

 
"Naive little nymph," Dominic chortled, and his arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer to his solid strength. "Must I confess what was troubling me when I went in search of another woman? Can you not guess my purpose?"

 
"I know very well what motivated you." Rozalyn tried to free herself, but his sinewy arm tightened about her, making it impossible for her to move or breathe normally. "You have an insatiable ap
petite
. It was your lust that led you to Sadie's Tavern, naught else."

 
Dominic nuzzled his cheek against the soft, silky hair that streamed over Rozalyn's shoulders. "You are very wrong,
cherie
. I was running from your memory. The feelings you stirred within me were frightening to a man who has learned to fear little in life." Dominic sighed heavily when he felt her body go rigid against his. "Condemn me if you must, Roz, but my worst punishment lies in realizing I was lying to myself. When I looked at Molly I could only compare her to you. It was you I wanted, and I could only see your smile on her face. I would have much preferred to fight your guard dogs than the emotions raging within me. My torment comes in the form of pure, sweet memories of the time we shared. They constantly hound me while we are apart."

 
The bay stallion pranced uneasily as Dominic lifted Rozalyn in his arms and turned her to face him. As he took her lips, like a man savoring a thirst-quenching drink, Rozalyn told herself it was the ale that caused her to surrender to the feel of his hard male strength. Nonetheless, her lips opened to his warm, compelling kiss, and her heart drummed so fiercely she knew her responses were not due to the brew. When Dominic touched her, she felt more than a shallow physical attraction. Love stirred in her and whispered across her soul. She had had no experience with love, but she recognized the feeling. What she felt for this powerful, uncompromising man was an emotion that defied description. It was wild and sweet, and she had no defense against it.

 
Logic flitted away on the breeze as her arms went around his neck, her fingers tunneling through the thick, wavy hair that curled about the collar of his buckskin shirt. She was lost to the taste and feel of him, and she could not breathe without drowning in the manly scent of him.

 
"God, woman, do you know how much I want you? Can you feel how much I need you?" Dominic breathed raggedly. His hand slid beneath her shirt to trace a path of fire to the peak of her breast. "So quickly have you become an obsession. I touch you and it turns me inside out."

 
Rozalyn knew exactly what he meant. She, too, was hounded by disturbing emotions and a maddening need to appease the hunger that consumed her.

 
'Then love me, Dominic," she moaned softly as his exploring hand trailed beneath the band of her breeches, intimately touching the velvety flesh of her thighs. "Prove to me that it is I alone you crave."

 
Dominic drew a deep, shuddering breath and peered into those spellbinding blue eyes. They mirrored the reflection of his own burning desire. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with his heart, knew he was allowing himself to be led deeper into a tangled web, but he could not have climbed down from the steed and walked away if his life depended on it.

 
His gaze drifted to a clump of trees to the south. The secluded canopy of the cottonwoods would grant them privacy. Then he swung from the saddle, still cradling Rozalyn in his arms. Although his nagging conscience was lecturing him on the hazards of becoming involved with this bewitching vixen, his footsteps took them into the dark paradise.

 
Beneath the low-hanging branches of the trees, Dominic set Rozalyn on her feet; and like a man cherishing a portrait that has long been stashed from sight, he drew the tattered shirt from her shoulders to reveal her ivory skin. She is a goddess, he thought as moonlight filtered through the trees to kiss her soft flesh. He let one tanned finger drift over her bare shoulder and then scaled the crest of a breast before his lips followed its enticing path, leaving fires smoldering on her quivering skin.

 
A sigh of longing escaped Rozalyn's lips when his tongue flicked each dusky peak, and she held his head to her as he worshipped her body with kisses and caresses.

Her breath came raggedly as her hands slid Inside his doe-hide shirt to make contact with the hard wall of his chest.

 
As it is when mighty waves churn against the shore, an undertow of sensations swept Rozalyn into a sea of passion. His hands and lips moved like sensuous tides flooding over her skin, tantalizing each sensitive point, drowning her in their rapturous currents. She felt the coolness of the night curl about her as Dominic slid the baggy breeches from her hips to allow him access to every inch of her body. But the warmth of his tender touch dissolved the evening chill and Rozalyn melted like snow beneath the heat of a fire about to blaze out of control.

 
With the same dedicated concentration, Rozalyn then undressed Dominic, her eyes adoring the naked mass of muscle that rippled across his chest as she absently tossed aside his buckskin shirt. Her palms roved across the dark furring of hair that shadowed his lean belly before her nimble fingers freed the buttons on his breeches. Slowly, she drew them down his tapered hips until nothing prohibited a bold appraisal of the man who had stolen her innocence.

 
Rozalyn had not meant this night to evolve into a moment of passion. Indeed, she had gone in search of distraction, something to divert her thoughts and dim her memories of this tall, darkly handsome rogue. She had been willfully ignoring the tiny voice whispering that love had wrapped its gentle arms around her heart, but she could no longer lie to herself. Some women would have wanted time to consider what they felt, Rozalyn did not. Dominic was everything she desired in a man. He was a force that even her determined will could not handle. He was the challenge she would forever pursue. This awesome mass of brawn and muscle was the man of her dreams and she longed to assure him that her need was as fierce and consuming as his.