by Carol Finch
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?"
Rozalyn forced back the smug grin attempting to surface on her lips. Her ploy was working. Dominic was becoming infatuated with her. By the time the evening ended she would be leading this lusty dragon around on a leash.
"If you can forgive me for my temper tantrum," she cooed sweetly.
Curling her hand into the crook of his arm, Rozalyn peered at the towering walls of the Baudelair estate. This mansion had been without its master for several years, but servants had cared for it. Rozalyn knew very little about the mansion's owner. It seemed he had taken to the wild years ago and had not been heard from since. Rozalyn was curious about Dominic's connection to the grandparents he claimed had owned this huge estate. Had he lived with them for a time? And what of his parents? Why had he returned? Where had he been all these years?
Her discerning gaze took in Dominic's granite shoulders and the hard contours of his thighs which were encased in brown velvet. Had Dominic been born in the wild? If he had, why was he so sophisticated? How could he move so easily from one kind of life to another? Although Dominic appeared domesticated and docile at the moment, Rozalyn doubted this sleek black panther could purr . . . permanently.
Dominic moved with agility and masculine grace. Yet there would be a few rough edges beneath his elegant clothes if he had grown up in the wild. Taking all things into consideration, Rozalyn decided it would be wise never to let her guard down with him, and she would not if he would kindly refrain from kissing her senseless and crumbling every defense she sought to construct.
Dominic led Rozalyn into the sprawling parlor that boasted expensive furniture imported from Europe. After pouring them both a drink, he offered Rozalyn a stemmed wine glass. "I propose a toast to the vision of loveliness who has come to fill the emptiness in my life." His emerald eyes deliberately worshipped her as they worked their way over her curvaceous figure, not missing the smallest detail.
The bewitching nymph is what dreams were made of, Dominic thought. He could almost feel her soft,feminine curves brushing against him, taste her lips—lips that were as addictive as the cherry wine he was sipping.
"When I take my place by your side at Madame Rabelais' dinner party, there will be no pretense, ma belle enchantress."
Rozalyn batted her pale blue eyes at Dominic. Her blinding smile would have melted a lesser man into his boots, but Dominic was as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. Rozalyn knew it would take more than warmth to thaw his heart. She set about adding more fuel to the fire.
"I drink to my good fortune. Fate graciously smiled upon me when I happened onto you, Dominic Baudelair. You are the most fascinating man I have ever met." Rozalyn raised her goblet in silent toast, an impish grin blossoming on her lips. "And also the most attractive. I find myself wanting to know everything about you."
Dominic swallowed a self-satisfied smile, along with his sip of wine. He silently gloated over the fact that, by placing his best foot forward, he had charmed this temperamental hellion into submission. The evening was progressing marvelously. By the time he bid Rozalyn adieu, she would be willing to do whatever he asked of her.
After setting his glass aside, Dominic drew Rozalyn into the circle of his arms. He applauded himself for managing this feat
without evoking a fiery protest. No ice maiden this, he mused. His lips feathered over hers, savoring the delicious taste of her kiss as he inhaled the tantalizing fragrance of jasmine. The men who approached this minx and met with defeat had obviously employed the wrong tactics, he decided. His arms involuntarily tightened about Rozalyn and his heart beat in double time when he felt her full breasts against his chest. Dominic paused momentarily to remind himself that he was only playacting and that his strong reaction to this captivating beauty had evolved from his role.
Take advantage of this blackguard in his weaker moment, Rozalyn bade herself, and willfully ignoring the arousing sensations coursing through her when his hard male body moved intimately against hers, she concentrated on her purpose. Delicate fingertips traced the lapel of his jacket, then Rozalyn pushed herself back as far as his encircling arms would allow before she lifted her face and blessed him with the most adoring smile she could muster.
"Dominic ... I ..." She paused for dramatic effect, as if the emotions he'd stirred were playing havoc with her thoughts. And they were! But Rozalyn would not allow herself to believe that for a minute. "What I feel for you is like nothing I have ever experienced," she confessed softly. "That which you asked in payment for your assistance would be readily given ... if I knew in my heart that what I feel for you is eagerly returned." Her long, sultry lashes swept down and then drifted up to meet his probing gaze. "What I am trying to say is that I think I may be falling in love with you. But it is much too soon to know. It has happened too quickly. I beg time to accept these sensations. If I give myself to you, body and soul, this night ... so soon . . . well . . ." Rozalyn hesitated as if wary of baring her heart. "I don't want to be hurt, Dominic. I suppose I am a bit of a coward when it comes to love. I want to be very sure of the man who steals my heart. I want the moment to be right." Heaving a sigh, Rozalyn peered beseechingly at Dominic. "Can you possibly understand how I feel, what I am trying to say? I know nothing of men, and I am overwhelmed by you because you seem so worldly and experienced. I would feel nothing but shame if I could not satisfy the only man who has truly stirred me." Rozalyn reached up to trace the bronzed features of his face. "Perhaps I am a hopeless romantic who lives with childish dreams, but I want my first taste of love to be special. I have rejected other men's advances, saving myself for the one man who truly cares for me, not my father's money or prestige he might stand to gain in the joining of our two families."
Rozalyn had rehearsed her soliloquy all the way to Dominic's estate, and now she was reasonably pleased with her performance. Her voice had trembled slightly; and she felt she had appeared sincere. But had she convinced Dominic that forcing her to his bed might spoil what could become a beautiful relationship?
He clasped her hands in his and smiled tenderly into her bewitching face. "I am ashamed of myself for insinuating that I would steal your innocence, amie," he whispered repentantly. "I will not deny that I crave your delicious body for that would be a lie. But I would be less than a man if I allowed my desire for you to destroy the fragile bond that has begun to grow between us." He cupped her face in his hand, staring deeply into her fathomless blue eyes. "Love is the one emotion that has escaped me all these years, but I can feel it taking root when I touch you. I will wait for you to come to me, Roz. I will gently teach you the pleasures of love. And they will be special. I promise you that, cherie."
While guiding Rozalyn toward the door, Dominic took a mental bow for his performance. "Ours will be a proper courtship. Tonight you and I are going to view a play." He winked down at Rozalyn, his eyes twinkling like priceless emeralds. "Perhaps we can pick up a few pointers from the actors, to aid us in our performance at Lenore's dinner party. But, for myself, I doubt I will be acting when I proudly stand at attention, waiting to be introduced as your most devoted admirer."
When Dominic steered Rozalyn through the hall and back outside, she half-collapsed in relief. My, hadn't she handled this mountain lion with finesse? She had appealed to his sense of decency and he had responded accordingly. A smug smile rippled across her lips when she considered her flawless performance. But she was too pleased with herself to notice Dominic was sporting a self-satisfied grin, one bright enough to replace the sun if it ever burned out.
He had played the role of the enamored beau to the hilt, and as his tall, muscular frame entered the carriage, he was satisfied. Aubrey's lovely daughter was infatuated. By denying his lusty appetites, he could earn her trust, and when their evening ended she would consider him the man of her dreams. Then, when Dominic approached Aubrey, Rozalyn would insist that her father comply with his demands.
Silently and separately, Rozalyn and Dominic gloated all the way to the theater. While they viewed the play, she kept reminding herself that, although the actors were professionals, their acting could not hold a candle to the performance she had given. Pehaps she should consider an acting career. She had pretended to be hopelessly in love with a man she detested. If she had not appealed to his tiny thread of conscience she would have been stripped of her innocence, yet with feminine persuasion, she had managed to coil that rascal around her finger, so tightly that he would never come unwound. Now Dominic would play her doting suitor at her grandmother's party and no one would be the wiser, especially not Dominic.
A perplexed frown captured Rozalyn's features as she absently applauded the second act of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Just how the devil was she going to explain this interlude to Lenore once Dominic had been sent on his way? Well, she would fret over that after the engagement party. Surely a workable solution would come to her when she allowed herself time to consider the alternatives. In the meantime, she needed to keep Dominic dangling so he wouldn't cause her trouble—and he could cause trouble if he got out of hand. At that distressing thought, Rozalyn glanced discreetly at her companion. When she found him staring at her, she blessed him with an adoring smile to pacify him.
The evening progressed without a hitch. Dominic showed himself to be a perfect gentleman, and Rozalyn was her bubbly, enthusiastic self, chattering about the play and pretending to delight in Dominic's company. Her mood soured when they exited from the theater to find Jeffrey Corday blocking their path.
"I must speak with you, Rozalyn," he insisted. "I have come to—"
"I told you this morning that we have nothing left to say to each other." Rozalyn turned up her dainty nose and veered around the annoying obstacle that stood between her and the carriage.
Jeffrey's splindly fingers clamped around her arm to detain her. "You did not allow me to apologize. I care deeply for you. You must know that." His scratched face wore a humble expression, but Rozalyn's attitude toward him had not mellowed a smidgen. "It isn't your father's money I want. It is you. It always has been."
Dominic faded into the background when Rozalyn jerked her arm from her persistent suitor's grasp. It was amusing to watch this spitfire in action when he wasn't on the receiving end of her fury, and he was curious to see how the gangly blond would fare when he pitted himself against this she-cat.
"Is it truly me you care about?" Rozalyn sniffed caustically, raking Jeffrey with scornful mockery. "And what if I informed you that my father has become so miserly with his wealth that he does not intend to offer a dowery? Would you still be eager to wed me?" When Jeffrey floundered for a reply, Rozalyn laughed bitterly. "It is true, you know. That is why Papa is in no great rush to see me marry. He does not plan to incorporate my future husband into his business. Indeed, I doubt he'd take the time to select a wedding gift. And I trust you can support me in the manner to which I have grown accustomed because financial aid from my father will not be forthcoming."
The young man looked as if he had had the props knocked out from under him. Although Rozalyn was breathtakingly lovely, the woman Jeffrey selected for his wife had to be wealthy. If not they would be wallowing in debts, those Jeffrey had been unable to pay. He had lived beyond his means and was dangerously close to financial disaster. He wondered whether
Rozalyn was telling him the truth or whether she had made those remarks to spite him.
Dominic stood quietly by, listening to the conversation. He detected the hint of bitterness that seeped into Rozalyn's voice when she mentioned her father, and he was also quick to note Jeffrey's pallor when Rozalyn assured him there would be no financial transaction p when she wed. No wonder this fiery misfit had remained unattached. If all her beaux lusted after her wealth, she had every reason to be cynical about a man's attentions. Dominic made a mental note to assure Rozalyn that he was not like the rest of the men in her life.
A stab of conscience struck him at that thought. Wasn't he using Rozalyn? Although it wasn't Aubrey's money that interested Dominic, he was anticipating a favor. His pensive musings dissipated when Rozalyn drew herself up in front of her speechless suitor.
"I must assume from your silence that you can ill afford a wife who lacks financial backing. But it is no matter," she added with a careless shrug. "You see, I have met someone else, Jeffrey." She indicated Dominic, who seemed huge compared to the skinny blond whose face and hands showed that he'd fought his way from prickly shrubs that morning.
Jeffrey's face fell like a rockslide and his eyes glittered menacingly. He was a desperate man. The sharks from whom he had borrowed money need not know that her father would not assume his debts, only that he and Roz would soon be wed. That possibility alone had kept Jeffrey afloat these past two months. The last thing he needed was for news to spread that Rozalyn had turned her attention elsewhere, and the fact that she had openly acknowledged some affection, no matter how small, for this towering mass of brawn infuriated Jeffrey. He did not need competition. He had enough trouble wooing this temperamental heiress without some stranger waltzing in to stake a claim to her.