Her clothes served her well this morning for they insulated her from the cold. It was still quite chilly. Great curls of steam rose from her horse's nostrils as Brie rode out of the courtyard. The cold air stung her lungs and tinged her cheeks with color, but she breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh scent of snow.
Her mount, the Court Jester, was a young Irish hunter belonging to Julian. At Julian's request, Brie had undertaken to school the horse for the field, for while the bay's action was superb, he was far too excitable when confronting the sights and sounds of the hunt. In the quiet of the winter morning, however, Jester was relaxed and responsive. He cantered easily along the lane, his footing solid in the melting snow and mud. When Brie put him at a low hedge, he took it effortlessly.
She held the horse to a canter, even though his strong pull on the reins indicated his eagerness. Leaving the lane, they bounded over a low stone border and followed a path through the woods to the south field. There were few tracks in the snow, and the only sound disturbing the silence was the muffled beat of Jester's hooves.
The path narrowed at its end. Brie ducked to avoid the low- hanging branches as they whipped by her, but not before the tip of a limb caught her shoulder, loosening a shower of snow. Laughing as a wet clump hit the back of her neck, Brie brought the horse to a halt. Jester snorted impatiently, pawing the ground, but she spoke softly to the animal, calming him as she shielded her eyes against the bright glare and surveyed the lovely scene.
A snow-covered meadow stretched invitingly before her, the sunlight reflecting off its crystalline surface, creating a shimmer of silver and gold. Beyond, the barren browns and grays of the surrounding woods contrasted sharply with the pristine white. Above, the sky sparkled a clear, watery blue.
Brie completely missed seeing the dark horseman who blended into the shadows of the opposite trees. Unaware of his scrutiny, she stood in the saddle and tossed her head back, laughing in sheer delight.
The musical sound carried across the snow to capture Dominic's attention. He had no trouble recognizing Brie, for while a stranger to this particular part of Britain might have mistaken her for a lad, Dominic had held her in his arms and knew quite well the extent of her feminine charms. He laid a soothing hand on the neck of his own restless mount, and from the cover of a thicket, watched.
The field was laid out in the shape of an L, with the two sections separated by a stream. A dozen or so obstacles of varying shapes and sizes had been set up to form a training course. Brie rode Jester in a large circle as she prepared for the first jump, gradually increasing the bay's speed to a steady canter. They took the first fence soaring, while Dominic caught his breath at the unexpected beauty of their winged flight.
Jester settled into a rhythmic stride. Jumping the swollen stream with ease, he cleared the sloping, snow-covered banks with room to spare, before Brie urged him on to the next obstacle. They swept around the bend of the meadow, hugging close to the dense wood, and at the end, turned, making their way upfield again at a steady gallop.
They were approaching the stream when Jester caught sight of the rider in the distance. His ears shot up, then he shied violently, swerving and throwing Brie off balance.
Seeing the icy banks stretching wide before them, Brie tried desperately to regain her seat, but she was still clinging precariously to the horse's neck when they left the ground. The bay cleared the water, but on the far bank, he slipped and stumbled. Giving a mighty lunge, he scrambled up the treacherous slope, while Brie lost her grip entirely. Feeling herself falling, she threw her weight to one side, free of the flailing hooves.
She tucked her body into a tight ball, and the snow softened the impact of her fall, but still she was dazed and breathless by the time she rolled to a stop. She lay there a moment, curled on her side, aware of a painful throb in her shoulder and a loud drumming in her head. When she recognized the sound as approaching hoofbeats, she shifted slowly onto her back, wincing as the bright glare of the sun hurt her eyes. Then she blinked.
For an instant, the dark image of a horse and rider was etched vividly against the sky. The horse was a giant black stallion, its coat a glossy shade of midnight rippling with blue highlights. Brie had seen that horse before at the Lodge stables, but it was Dominic who arrested her attention. He seemed to be an extension of the beautiful animal he sat so effortlessly. He was hatless, and his ebony hair, nearly the same shade as his horse, glinted in the early morning sunlight. The black coat he wore made his broad shoulders seem even more powerfully built and gave him an aura of strength that was almost tangible to Brie's dazed senses.
The image shattered as he dismounted. Above the ringing in her ears, Brie heard him ask if she were injured. She shook her head to clear it and slowly raised herself up on her elbows.
"Are you hurt?" Dominic repeated, his piercing gaze sweeping over her body.
Brie frowned as she looked up at him. She was cold and wet and her shoulder was throbbing abominably, but she wasn't about to admit it to him. "No, I'm not hurt!" she muttered irritably, her denial sounding more like an accusation.
Her annoyance mounted when she realized Dominic was subjecting her to another of his brazen perusals. His dark eyes traveled the length of her slender frame, gliding slowly upward again to pause measuringly on the curves of her breasts. The warmth of his gaze seemed to penetrate her garments. She wondered if he would say anything about her choice of attire— and he did.
"Interesting," Dominic remarked mildly. "Can't your protector afford to clothe you in anything better?"
"What are you doing here?" Brie demanded, ignoring his question.
His eyes returned at last to meet her own, but he seemed undaunted by the fierce glare she was leveling at him. An annoying little smile hovered around the corners of his mouth. "You didn't say goodbye, ma belle. I was beginning to think that I had frightened you away."
"You did no such thing," Brie replied with a toss of her head. The gesture sent her cap flying and her hair tumbling down around her shoulders.
A lazy, mocking smile spread across Dominic's lips, showing strong white teeth. His grin unsettled Brie's composure. She felt at a distinct disadvantage with him towering over her. When he bent to help her up, she refused his outstretched hand and scrambled to her feet, unassisted.
Dominic's grin deepened appreciatively as his eyes took in the curves displayed by her breeches, but Brie tried to ignore him. Pressing her lips together and swallowing the hot words that were forming on her tongue, she brushed impatiently at the snow that clung tenaciously to her clothes and went after her horse.
Jester had not gone far. He stood quietly as Brie approached, allowing her to pick up the reins that trailed the ground. She led the gelding at a slow walk, looking for signs of injury.
Dominic came up beside her. "He's favoring his right fore. Probably strained a tendon."
Brie didn't need the advice, nor did she appreciate Stanton's interference. She raised a glare of annoyance to his bronzed visage.
It disturbed her to find his gray eyes upon her, watching her closely. His persistent regard was unsettling, but before she could comment, his gaze shifted back to the horse.
Dominic casually removed his gloves, then bent beside the bay and ran a careful hand down the animal's leg. When he nodded his dark head, as if confirming his own opinion, his calm assumption of authority ignited Brie's glowing spark of ire. She rounded on him as he straightened. "I'll thank you, Lord Stanton, to leave the horse to me. In fact, I'll thank you to leave! You are on private property."
One of his dark brows shot up. "I was not aware—"
"I can certainly believe that! You seem to be aware of very little. Indeed, your lack of intelligence astonishes me. What did you mean, riding out of the woods like that, appearing like an apparition without any warning? If I had been a less accomplished rider, Jester could have ended with a broken leg and I with a broken neck!"
A look of sardonic amusement crept into Dominic's eyes as he contempla
ted her. "You have my profound admiration, mademoiselle, for your daring display of horsemanship. I have rarely seen such magnificent riding, certainly not from a woman. At least your skill matches your boastfulness." The corner of his mouth lifted slowly in a smile. "Tell me, does your master know you have taken that beast from his stable?"
Brie digested his statements with a certain amount of amazement. His words, rather than the contrite apology she expected, were little more than taunts. A warning spark flashed in her eyes, turning them a deep, sparkling green. "I do not boast," she ground out. "I am perfectly capable of handling any horse I care to ride—without your assistance. Besides, what I do with Jester is no business of yours. And my . . . master, as you phrased it, would not have stood for your interference for an instant. He would have had you shot for trespassing and frightening his horse, and asked questions later. I generally don't support such drastic measures, but I am beginning to. Now, will you leave, my lord? I have work to do."
He didn't comply. Instead, he raised a mocking brow and indicated her horse with a slight movement of his head. "You won't be able to ride him for a day or so."
"I realize that!" she snapped.
She was totally dumbfounded when Dominic reached out to lift a lock of her hair from where it lay curled on her breast. "You look a little absurd, standing there all covered with snow," he murmured. "Perhaps you have aspirations to become a snow fairy?" He let the curl drop, watching with a speculative gleam as it caught the fire of the sun.
Brie resisted the urge to slap his handsome face. She was suddenly uncomfortable with his closeness, with the way his penetrating glance lingered on the swell of her breasts. She turned from him abruptly, looking for her lost cap. Adopting her haughtiest tone, she flung over her shoulder, "You, Lord Stanton, are also guilty of a breach of manners. A gentleman does not argue with a lady, nor does he call her absurd."
Dominic's slow chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Lady?" he repeated, his voice heavy with satire. "Is that what you are, chérie?"
Brie's cheeks flushed with hot anger, but she continued searching through the snow until she heard Dominic ask if she were perhaps looking for something. When she saw that he held her cap and was waving it gently in the air, she silently voiced an oath and marched up to him, bristling with fury.
Tauntingly, Dominic held the cap out of her range. "Oh no, my lady. You must allow me the honor of rendering such a small service."
Brie glared, her soft mouth set mutinously, but she remained silent, thinking he would put the hat on her head and be done with it. He bewildered her by commanding her to turn around. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, knitting her brows.
"I said turn," Dominic ordered, an odd gleam of amusement warming his eyes.
Brie stared at him uncertainly. But when he grasped her by the elbow, her resentment flared. "Damn you, unhand me!" Giving a jerk, she tried to free herself, but she found she had miscalculated Dominic's strength. She stumbled and would have fallen but for the supporting arm he wrapped around her waist. Startled by the sudden contact with his hard body, she reacted instinctively and drew back her hand to deliver a stinging blow.
Dominic caught her wrist easily, holding it in an iron grip. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, chérie. You would not like the consequences."
His tone was deadly calm, and when Brie's flashing eyes clashed with his chilling gaze, her words of protest at his barbaric treatment lodged in her throat. Her frozen breath mingled with Dominic's as she stared up at him. Curiously, she could feel her defiance retreating under the hard intensity of his gaze.
Her ebbing anger quickly turned to dismay when Dominic shifted his position and captured both her wrists in one hand. His eyes were half hidden by bold, black lashes, but Brie could see charcoal flecks floating in the gray depths, plus a smoldering gleam that was both predatory and sensual. Reading his look, she attempted to pull away. But his grip merely tightened. When his gaze settled on her mouth, her heartbeat quickened in panic.
Frightened, Brie began to fight him, kicking furiously at his shins since her hands were imprisoned in his grasp. Only Dominic's lightning reactions saved him from her vicious resistance. When her booted foot harmlessly flailed air, Brie exerted all her might in a frenzied attack.
She fought wildly, to no avail. Dominic's strong arms wrapped about her, catching her close against his broad, hard chest. "Be still, my little wildcat," he murmured as she squirmed in his embrace. "I was only attempting to brush the snow from your hair."
Realizing she had no hope of winning against Dominic's superior strength, Brie ceased her struggle. She stood trembling in his arms, her breath coming in deep gasps, her heart beating in slow, painful strokes. Tears of anger and humiliation stung her eyes as she cursed her own stupidity. She was alone with Stanton, miles from any form of help, and she had lashed out at him without considering the consequences. Brie bit her lip, wondering what he planned to do with her.
He didn't seem to be in any hurry. He was stroking her hair and speaking to her softly, as if calming a frightened animal, telling her that she had nothing to fear from him.
Her trembling gradually lessened under the soothing influence of his voice and hands. It was odd, she reflected, but being held in his encircling warmth somehow made her feel cherished and protected. She almost cried out loud when Dominic drew away and his warmth was replaced by cold, empty air.
He did not release her completely, but held one wrist captive while his free hand reached out to cup her chin with gentle forcefulness, tilting her face up to his. Once more Brie tried to pull away without success, but his gray eyes caught her blue- green ones. He looked searchingly at her for a long moment, his expression an unreadable mask. Then he bent his head.
When their mouths met, Brie caught her breath in a gasp, for even though Dominic's lips only brushed hers gently before drawing away, she felt their impact more as a glancing blow. She stood completely still, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to will away the treacherous warmth that was suddenly flooding through her. No other man had ever made her feel such melting desire. Once she had felt something remotely similar for her fiance—but yielding to it had been the greatest mistake of her life. Brie lamely shook her head in protest.
The choice was taken from her, however, as Dominic's arms encircled her once more. He pulled her against him, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head, his fingers twisting in the silken tresses of her hair. Brie glimpsed the darkened passion in his eyes as he lowered his mouth again.
There was no gentleness in his kiss this time. The invading warmth of his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth, making her senses reel. But his hunger found a responsive chord deep within Brie. She pressed closer, unconsciously molding her slender body to Dominic's larger frame. Alternating waves of hot and cold swept through her, making her shiver.
Dominic kissed her with feverish intensity, then let his lips skim lightly across Brie's face, searing her skin. Wanting more of her, he tilted her head back, giving his mouth access to the softness of her throat. He savored the taste of her skin, while his stroking hands slowly swept down her back, caressing her with a circular, sensual motion. Moving lower, he cupped her soft buttocks in his hands, drawing her slender hips intimately against his steel-muscled thighs.
Brie was vaguely shocked to feel the swell of his throbbing hardness through their layers of clothing. She opened her mouth to protest, but Dominic's hoarsely voiced plea forestalled her. "Come back to the Lodge with me, Brie. Now, this moment. Let me make love to you the way I've wanted to since I first saw you."
His hard mouth claimed hers then, robbing her of breath, and for a moment, her world careened in a wild, hot spiral. But then his hand slid intimately between her legs, stroking her gently.
Brie went rigid, realizing where his attempted seduction was leading. And she was responding to him! She was behaving no better than she had two nights ago. Dear God, she had to get away from him before she surrendered to him completely.
<
br /> In desperation, Brie tore her mouth away. She wished she had a weapon to use against him, for struggling, as he had decisively proved, would gain her nothing. "No . . . don't," she pleaded, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Don't what, ma belle? You mean this?" His lips slid across her cheek to her ear. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he teased it with his tongue, stirring those erotic sensations in her again.
"Please . . . , stop."
"You don't want me to let you go," Dominic murmured huskily. "You want me as much as I want you. Your body says so." "
His allegation was too close to the truth. Furious at herself and at him. Brie pushed frantically at his chest. But he only kissed her again, ignoring her resistance. It was then that Brie remembered the riding quirt tucked inside her boot. With trembling fingers, she groped for it, but Dominic's crushing embrace prevented her from bending enough to reach it.
When his hold at last loosened a little, Brie seized upon her small advantage with frantic speed. She broke away, taking a step backward at the same time her hand closed around her whip. Raising her arm, she swung at Dominic with all the strength at her command. She had not been aiming for his face, but the blow glanced off his shoulder and struck him fully across his left cheek.
Her unexpected action caught Dominic unaware, and for a moment he didn't move. He only watched Brie, his eyes glinting dangerously. Brie stared back at him, watching in horrified fascination as a thin red line appeared on his cheek to mar his dark complexion. She couldn't help noticing how cold and threatening his gray eyes had become. When Dominic brought a hand up to his face to touch the red welt, she backed away nervously. He looked as dangerous as a snarling jungle cat.
There was also ice in his voice when he spoke. "That was not very wise, chérie," Dominic said softly. "Some men kill when they are given such provocation."
Brie shuddered, knowing her own eyes betrayed her fear. "No doubt you're the same," she replied shakily. "And no doubt you take pleasure in raping defenseless women!"
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