Captive Bride (9 page)

 
The groom's jaw sagged on its hinges as he listened to this attractive young lass converse with the thief who had ordered his men to surround the carriage and who, until a moment ago, had held his pistol to Mosley's chest.

 
"The gentleman with whom I plan to share the evening sent his groom and brougham for me," Rozalyn explained before wheeling around to climb into the carriage. "Now, if you good men will excuse us, we have an appointment to keep." Before she could reach for the door latch, Harvey was beside her, graciously offering his assistance. "
Merci
,
monsieur
. You are too kind."

 
Mosley half-collapsed in relief when the circle of thieves retired their weapons and flocked to the carriage for one last glimpse of the lady before she disappeared into it. Sweet Jesus! This was the strangest robbery attempt Mosley had ever seen. He stared at Rozalyn's departing back, his weather-beaten features skewed in astonishment.

 
"Coming to yer assistance is always my pleasure, mam'selfe," Harvey chuckled. After tucking his pistol in the band of his breeches, he wrapped his stubby fingers around Rozalyn's arm to lift her into the brougham. "We're havin' the usual game at Sadie's Tavern tomorrow night," he whispered confidentially. "You ain't gonna miss it, are you?"

 
As Rozalyn sank back onto the seat and primly tucked her full skirts around her legs, a mischievous smile skittered across her lips. "Me? At the gaming tables? Really,
monsieur
, I think you should know the answer to that." She reached out to straighten the mask that had drooped on the left side of Harvey's cheek. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. What are the stakes?"

 
"A week's wages on the wharf and whatever collectables we have in our pockets." Harvey grinned. "Perhaps even a few stolen jewels if some of the men have enjoyed a prosperous week."

 
"I see no reason why we can't play merely for the sport of it," Rozalyn admonished lightly. "Did you ever stop to realize that your life of crime might be supporting your penchant for gambling? You could be a wealthy man if you didn't drain your purse at Sadie's gaming tables."

 
Harvey laughed out loud at Rozalyn's attempt to lecture him. What a delightful lady she was. Rozalyn had the face of a seraph, a sharp-witted mind, and an ornery streak as wide as the Mississippi. And Lordy how she thrilled to adventure. Rozalyn had no qualms about garbing herself in men's clothes and joining Harvey and his friends, but although Harvey and Rozalyn shared the same unquenchable thirst for excitement, there was a vast difference between them. Rozalyn could easily afford to drop a few coins at the gaming tables and she played for sport. Harvey played to survive. He envied Rozalyn's wealth, but he could not begrudge it to the feisty young lass who had stolen his heart the first time he had laid eyes on her. And he was not the only man who would have given the world for this young woman's affection. This daring sprite had won the hearts of every scoundrel in St. Lo
ui
s. Because Rozalyn did not consider herself better than her less fortunate friends and she was overly generous, the code of the streets demanded that she be granted amnesty. When she heard that one of her friends was down on his luck, sufficient funds mysteriously found their way into his pocket. Rozalyn expected nothing in return except the opportunity to mingle with men who knew how to appease her thirst for adventure.

Smiling quietly to himself, Harvey gave her hand a fond squeeze before it fell away from his face. How well he remembered the sad, lonely look on this young girl's face the day he'd halted her carriage almost four years ago. He hadn't had the heart to steal from the young beauty and he'd sent her on her way, but Rozalyn had jumped from the brougham to follow him. Harvey had melted like butter too long on a stove when he'd whirled around to find her staring up at him with those mystical blue eyes. Rozalyn had wanted to know what life was like for those who didn't live in monstrous rock mansions, those who had to scratch and claw for enough coins to afford their meal.

 
Harvey had taken the curious little nymph under his wing and had introduced her to a life that had been inconceivable to her. From that day forward, Rozalyn had come to him when her spirits were heavy. Harvey helped her survive the loneliness of living with a father who gave, her wealth but nothing of himself. She had even sneaked Harvey into the mansion when he had been wounded by a man who had come at him with a butcher knife. Right under her father's unobserving nose, Rozalyn had nursed him back to health; she'd stashed enough coins in his pocket to see that he didn't miss a meal while he was recuperating.

 
"You be on yer way, missy. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." Harvey backed away and gestured for the groom to climb back onto his perch. "And give my humble apologies to yer new beau for the delay."

 
The smile faded from Rozalyn's lips, and she eased her head back against the seat and turned her thoughts to her "new beau." If only Dominic were as agreeable as Harvey, she mused whimsically. She had the uneasy feeling that manipulating a man like Dominic would be a difficult matter, especially so since she had very little experience in such matters. Dominic had an air of confidence and he was very quick-witted. Rozalyn had only a brief acquaintance with the man yet it had led her to believe that he refused to take no for an answer. She would have to keep a watchful eye on him. He was a conniving rascal who made Harvey Duncan appear a saint in comparison. Although Harvey was desperate for coins, he did have scruples, whereas Rozalyn wasn't at all sure Dominic did. He was opportunistic and mercenary, a wolf in gentleman's clothing.

 
Dominic peered out the window of the parlor. After rechecking his timepiece, he frowned worriedly. What the devil was keeping Mosley? Had Rozalyn locked herself in her room, refusing to come down? Dominic knew the minx had something planned for he'd forced her into a corner. He wished he could read her complicated mind.

 
Hooves clattering against the cobblestoned street drew his attention and he spun away from the window, his long, impatient strides taking him to the porch. Mosley hopped from the driver's seat and hastened toward him, but not before casting one last glance at the young woman who remained enclosed in the coach.

 
"Forgive the delay, Master Baudelair," he apologized breathlessly. "I just had the strangest experience of my life."

 
Thick eyebrows formed a line over Dominic's green eyes. "You were accosted by thieves," he predicted. He wasn't the least bit surprised since they swarmed the streets at night.

 
"That we were," Mosley affirmed. When Dominic started down the steps to ensure that Rozalyn had not suffered from the harrowing experience, Mosley grabbed him by the arm. "But they didn't hurt the lady. It was the oddest thing I ever did see. The lady hopped out of the carriage while four men were holding me at gunpoint. I thought sure they would make away with her so I told her to get back in the coach. But she waltzed right up to one of the thieves and scolded him for living his life of crime. Then she tossed him a few coins and he helped her back into the carriage." Mosley let his breath out in a rush, then shook his head in disbelief. "There that robber was, apologizing to her for the inconvenience. They stood there visiting like they were old friends."

 
Dominic chuckled at the Bemused expression on Mosley's face. So the rumors about this she-cat were true, he concluded. Even muggers and thieves wouldn't lay a hand on this spellbinding witch. This saucy, spirited creature held court in the streets of St. L
Oui
s. Even the ruffians rolled out the red carpet when Rozalyn DuBois appeared. Dominic spitefully wondered how she would fare when set upon by panthers, bears, and unfriendly Indian tribes. She might have charmed the entire male species of the civilized world, but she wouldn't have a prayer in the wild, he decided. The little chit probably thought she had the world in the palm of her hand since she had been spoiled by everything in breeches, but if she were taken from her element and deposited at the foot of the Rockies, she might not be so all-fired sure of herself. And he would enjoy watching Rozalyn DuBois fumble her way through an environment that was as foreign to her as China.

 
Flinging aside his spiteful thoughts of throwing this gorgeous wildcat to the wolves, Dominic pasted on a charming smile, as he swiftly strode across the lawn to open the carriage door.

 
"
Ma
cherie
, I have been fretting about whether or not you would come after I behaved like an ass this morning. The
 
hours
 
that
 
have
 
separated us
 
have been Dominic's voice trailed off in the breeze when his eyes beheld the enchantress who emerged from the brougham.

A tiara of rubies and diamonds was set amid her upswept, raven curls, and a matching choker adorned her throat. The moonlight gave her a mystical appearance, but it also drew Dominic's attention to her shapely figure which was wrapped in silk. The daring bodice of her gown displayed the creamy swells of her breasts with such devastating effectiveness that Dominic had difficulty thinking. As he feasted on the bewitching sight presented to him, he suddenly had difficulty breathing. Rozalyn had assaulted his senses, and they had surrendered without a fight. Dominic was stung by an arousing need to lose himself in the sweet scent that invaded his nostrils, to touch and taste this delicious morsel who had appeared from the dark confines of the carriage.

 
"Will you help me down, Dominic?" Rozalyn murmured coyly, pleased that she had captured his undivided attention and had seemingly left him dumbstruck. Her first step in dealing with this philanderer was successful. Now she must charm him. "I pray that your attentiveness means you approve of my gown. I dressed to please you."

 
A skeptical frown furrowed Dominic's brow when his mind digested her soft words. What had happened to the contrary little minx who had practically run him down that very morning? His lean fingers folded around her trim waist and he effortlessly lifted her from the coach. In doing so he was distracted by the luscious fragrance of jasmine and the feel of her firm, ripe body. Lord, this shapely witch could tear the very thoughts from his mind, not to mention the disastrous effects she had on the rest of him. Dominic had an overwhelming urge to engage his lips in something more arousing than conversation, and he yielded to the temptation.

 
His warm, full lips took Rozalyn's hostage, and her feet never touched the ground when he swept her from the carriage. She was plastered against the rock-hard wall of Dominic's chest, chained to him by arms as confining as steel bands. His devouring kiss made breathing impossible, and Rozalyn was becoming more lightheaded by the second. How could she keep her wits about her when Dominic's crushing embrace immobilized her mind?

 
To her dismay, Rozalyn found her traitorous body responding to his intoxicating kiss. As her lips opened to allow his probing tongue to explore the dark recesses of her mouth, he enfolded her, molding her quivering body to his muscular contours. Her' heart was thundering about her ribs like a runaway stallion, and Rozalyn feared it would beat her to death before Dominic released her from his clutches.

 
The musky scent of him bombarded her senses, and Rozalyn felt her resistance drop. She didn't want to feel this delicious knot of desire unfurling within her. She didn't want her arms to loop over his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. She didn't want to experience the tantalizing shock waves of pleasures that were splashing over her, swamping rational thought and drawing it into the swirling currents of passion.

 
Rozalyn kept telling herself she would use all these sensations to advantage. Dominic had to know her heart was pounding furiously since her body was crushed to his. Let him think she was strongly attracted to him, that his touch aroused her. That was her intention, wasn't it? To convince him that she was warming to him?

 
"Dominic ..." Rozalyn whispered in a half-strangled voice. Only when he dragged his lips from hers did she realize that he had set her feet to solid ground. "I have the oddest feeling the lie I told
Grand’mere
is coming true. Ironic, is it not? We are only strangers, yet I experience warm, giddy sensations when I'm near you." Her long lashes fluttered down to caress her cheeks, and coyly, she let her fingertips skim the expanse of his chest. "I must confess that I was perturbed with you earlier. But I must also admit that I have been unable to put you from my mind all day." Her eyes lifted to lock with his intriguing emerald pools. "Do you believe in love at first sight? I mean, do you suppose there is truly something to the notion that one can tell at first glance when one has met one's destiny?"

 
Do I appear awestruck? Rozalyn wondered. Have my soft, inquiring words touched the tender side of this mountain lion?

 
"I didn't . . . until this morning," Dominic murmured, bringing her dainty hand to his lips. Things are going splendidly, Dominic thought to himself. Now that Rozalyn has mellowed slightly I will set about convincing her that my intentions are sincere. "You take my breath away, Roz, and I crave you when I am near you." Dominic peered into her eyes and then smiled sheepishly. "I am very ashamed of the way I behaved this morning. Can you forgive me?"