by Connie Mason
“I care not what they think.”
“I refuse to stand here and beg for entrance into my own bedchamber,” he bit out. “You are right about Veronica. She would indeed welcome my attentions. Thank you for suggesting that I go to her. Good night, wife. Sleep well in your cold bed.”
Dominic was in a foul mood by the time he returned to the hall. He had no intention of seeking out Veronica,but Rose did not need to know that. Nay, let her think what she wanted.
Dominic pulled his chair closer to the hearth and settled down for the night. He had just started to doze off when a whisper of sound behind him jarred him awake. He reached for his sword and recalled that he had not worn one tonight. But he did carry a knife. He had started to unsheathe it when a whiff of perfume he remembered with fondness drifted past his nose.
“I hoped I would find you down here alone,” Veronica purred, moving into his view. She caressed his face. “Tis good to see you, Dragon. I have missed you dreadfully.”
Dominic caught her hand as it began to move down his body in a familiar way.“We cannot be seen like this, Veronica.”
Before Dominic knew what she intended, she settled down on his lap. “Why ever not? Our relationship is no secret. Everyone knows we were lovers in London.”
This is not London.”
Dominic felt himself stirring and stifled a groan. At one time the woman in his arms had meant everything to him, and apparently she still had the power to move him sexually. He was a man, after all, but did he still want Veronica as much as he had before the king gifted him with Rose and Dragonwyck?
” Tis obvious you and your wife are at odds, Dragon, and that the marriage is not to your liking. I will stay at Dragonwyck as long as you like and we can become lovers again. You would not be the first man to bring his mistress to live in his home.”
Dominic nearly laughed aloud at Veronica’s suggestion. Rose would never accept his mistress in her home. Nor did Dominic welcome the idea of Veronica interfering in his life with Rose. There had been a subtle change in his life since London, and her name was Rose. It was difficult to believe that he had once cared enough about Veronica to marry her. He was still fond of her, but it occurred to him that her appeal was strictly sexual and probably would have waned in time.
A sudden thought occurred, and he grinned. “Rose would skewer you with her sword if I allowed you to remain at Dragonwyck. Go to bed, Veronica.”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed.“You have changed, Dragon. What has that witch done to you? No lady I know would attack another with a sword. Surely you jest.”
“Believe me,Ido not jest.There is bite to Rose’s bark. I suggest you do naught to trigger her temper during your stay, else you may live to regret it. You may remove yourself from my lap now.”
Veronica ground her bottom into Dominic’s loins and grinned. “You want me, Dragon. I can feel your cock growing as we speak. Kiss me, Dragon. Let me show you how desperately I missed you.”
Dominic knew of no courteous way to discourage Veronica short of dumping her off his lap, and because she had once meant a great deal to him, he could not do that.
Rose began to regret her angry words the moment Dragon left the solar. As she tossed and turned in her bed, she wondered if Dragon had followed her advice and sought solace in Veronica’s bed. Driven by curiosity, she donned a dressing gown and left the solar.
Rush lights supported by wall brackets provided light as she crept down the stairs to the hall.
The shadows were dark and deep in the cavernous chamber as Rose paused in the doorway, her wandering gaze stopping abruptly on the couple cozily entwined in the lord’s chair.
Dragon and Veronica.
Dragon’s arms were wrapped around his mistress, and they were kissing. The sharp intake of Rose’s breath pierced the silence. The couple in the chair broke apart and stared at Rose.
“Damn you, Dragon!” Rose shouted, shaking with fury. “If I had my sword I would run you both through.”
Dominic leaped from the chair, dumping Veronica on the floor, as Rose turned and fled.
“Dammit, Veronica. Now you have gone and done it. Never say I did not warn you.”
Chapter Ten
There is simply the rose: it is perfect in every moment of its existence.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Rose heard Dominic pounding up the staircase after her. He was but a few steps behind her when she reached the solar. If he tried to touch her after kissing Veronica, she would kill him. She opened the door and rushed inside. He was right behind her. Shaking with fury, she reached for Dragon’s sword, which was leaning against the wall beside the hearth. She grasped the hilt in both hands and whirled to confront him.
“Stay back,” Rose warned.
Dominic pressed forward until the point rested against his chest.“Put the sword down, Rose.”
Determination and a healthy dose of pride held the sword steady. “You’ve humiliated me past bearing,” Rose charged.
“I can explain.”
Rose glared at him. “What is there to explain? Tis no secret you want Veronica. I cannot stop you from taking the woman you want, but I can keep you from making a fool of me in my own home.”
“You are not going to hurt me, Rose. Put the sword down.”
Rose held her ground. She would not let him touch her.
In a surprising move, Dragon grasped the blade with his left hand. Rose reacted instinctively, drawing the sword back before she had time to ponder the consequences. The blade came away bloody. Color drained from her face as she stared at the blood dripping from the sword. Then she shifted her gaze to Dragon’s hand.
“What have you done? Dear Lord, Dominic, what have you done?”
Dominic’s brow was furrowed as he stared at his hand.
The sword dropped from Rose’s hands with a loud clatter, and she rushed forward, grasping Dominic’s wrist. She uncurled his fingers and stanched the blood with the hem of her gown, gaping in horror at the deep gash in his palm and the lesser ones across his fingers.
“I did not mean … I am sorry…” Her voice ground to a halt as her practical side took over. “Your hand is going to need stitching. Sit down on the bench while I get what I need.”
She retrieved her basket of medicinal supplies from the cupboard and knelt at Dominic’s feet. She pressed a clean cloth to his palm and said,“Hold it tight while I thread the needle.”
“You cut me,” Dominic said woodenly.
“‘Twas an accident, and partly your fault. You should not have grabbed the blade. Had I wanted to hurt you, I would have run you through.”
She dabbed at the blood. “It could have been worse. You are lucky you still have your fingers. Hold very still while I stitch the edges together.”
Dominic could not believe how stupid he had been to believe Rose would not hurt him. He knew Rose was dangerous when roused to anger, yet he had thrown caution to the wind.
Dominic closed his mind to the pain while Rose stitched his hand. Had jealousy fueled Rose’s anger? he wondered. Had she been outraged over Veronica’s appearance at Dragonwyck? Probably a little of both, he decided. He had neither encouraged Veronica’s visit nor expected to see her at Dragonwyck, but of course Rose did not believe that. She was determined to think the worst of him no matter what he said.
Dominic’s thoughts turned to Veronica. Just recently he had asked himself if Veronica still held the same appeal for him as she once had. Now he had his answer. She did not. He had not felt the same about Veronica since Rose burst into his life wielding a sword in her dainty hand.
“There, ‘tis done,” Rose said, tying off the thread.
She cradled his hand in her palm as she spread salve over the wound. “Hold still while I affix a bandage.”
Dominic said naught; he merely stared at his hand, unable to believe what had just happened. When Rose finished, she sent him a wary look and backed away.
“You may have the bed tonight. I will find another,
” she said.
“You will do no such thing. Do you not understand? I do not want Veronica. Tis you I want, Rose.”
“Do not lie to me, Dominic. I know what I saw.”
“You saw what you wanted to see. I did not invite Veronica into my lap. I told her I was not interested, but like all women she has a mind of her own.”
“You were kissing her.”
“She was kissing me.”
“Do not make feeble excuses, my lord, for they insult my intelligence.” She made a wide circle around him.
“Where are you going?”
“To find an empty bed among the servants.”
“You willnot sleep with the servants,” Dominic spat from between clenched teeth.
Rose ignored him. Dominic reacted swiftly. Two long strides took him to Rose’s side. Her cry of protest did not deter him as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bedchamber, slamming the door behind him with his foot.
“Put me down!”
“In a minute. First you are going to listen to me.”
She hammered his chest with her fists, but he felt naught save the delicious weight of her body. The scent of roses made his head spin and his senses reel.
“Put me down, Dominic.”
He set her on her feet, but his hold on her remained firm.
“Let me go.”
“Not yet. If you were being honest with yourself, you would admit that you want what I want.”
“You flatter yourself, my lord.” She tossed her head. “Did you invite your mistress to stay with you at Dragonwyck?”
He yanked her against him, forcing her to hang on to him to keep her balance. He held her, one hand splayed on the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair to hold her still as he brought her mouth against his.
“I plan,” he muttered against her lips, “to make passionate love to my wife.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Rose said just before he kissed her.
Why did she bother to fight? Rose wondered. She melted into his arms as if she had no will of her own. She closed her eyes, blotting out the sight of his determined face, those merciless dark eyes and the resolute twist of his mouth. His uninjured hand slid over her breasts in a blatant caress.
Despair rode her. She knew she could not stop him, that her body would respond despite her anger, so she did not resist as his devastating kiss roused her to unwilling passion.
“Damn you. I do not want this,”she gasped at last.
He gave her a wistful smile.“I fear we are both damned.”
She freed herself and backed away until the wall stopped her. “You are mad!”
He stalked her, pressing her against the wall with his hard body. She felt the stiffened ridge of his sex prodding her between her thighs and she went still.
“Aye, mad for you. I cannot help myself.” She shuddered as he skimmed his right hand beneath the hem of her under-gown and upward along her leg. Both under-gown and over-gown slid effortlessly upward, bunching at her waist.
Then he touched her, his uninjured hand moving against her pale skin, caressing the flat of her belly and the golden curls at the juncture of her thighs. She stiffened, the breath catching in her throat and her chest expanding as she dragged in air.
She wanted to protest, to demand that he keep his distance until he sent his mistress away, but she could neither think nor speak with his mouth and hands on her. His tongue plunged deep, destroying her willpower, ravaging her senses and driving out every thought but the rising need to feel him inside her.
As he released ties and rearranged clothing, Rose became vaguely aware that he was touching her with more than just his hand. The velvet tip of his cock pressed wetly between her thighs. His drugging kisses held her captive as he lifted her and arranged her legs around his hips. Rose had had no idea it was possible to make love in this way.
Despite Dragon’s injured hand, he exhibited no sign of pain. His face had an arrested look, the shadowed hollows sharp and intense. He touched her again, his fingers delving deep into her secret folds. He smiled, as if what he found there pleased him.
“You are ready, love. Hold on tight.”
Resisting was out of the question, for Rose suddenly realized she wanted this as much as Dominic. Her body felt heavy and lethargic as she wound her arms around his neck and held on. He entered her then, with a quick, savage thrust that made her breath stop. She cried out his name as he pounded into her with relentless urgency, creating a blaze inside her, banishing doubts and misgivings, banishing everything but Dragon.
‘Tis always like this for me. I am lost when he touches me.
Her hands clutched his shoulders. The muscles were hard and tense. Her eyes drifted shut; she wanted to gaze into his eyes but could not bear to see her passion mirrored in their dark centers. Her heart beat in tempo with his quickening thrusts. Then she was flying, her body soaring with a pulsing ecstasy that came from deep inside her. Her body convulsed. The walls of her sex clutched the hard, thick length of him as he pumped his seed into her.
After a moment of profound silence, Dominic moved them away from the wall. With her legs still spanning his waist, he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the feather mattress. Then he quickly undressed both Rose and himself.
“You will hurt your hand,” Rose said when she finally found breath to speak.
Dominic shrugged.“‘Tis of little consequence.”
Rose regarded him through a fringe of feathery lashes. There was so much she did not know about Dragon. She knew his strengths but not his weaknesses, and she wanted to know more about Veronica than Dragon was willing to divulge.
Curious, Rose asked, “Why did you not go to your mistress tonight? Why did you want me when you could have had Veronica? I do not understand you, Dominic.”
“I thought I made myself clear. I do not want Veronica.”
“Why? I thought—”
“You thought wrong. Veronica is my past. You and I are wed. What is done cannot be undone.‘Twould be stupid of me to pine for a woman that can never be legally mine. Give me some credit, Rose. I would not dally with another woman in your home.”
Rose stirred uncomfortably. “Am I to understand that you are content with our marriage? Should I be grateful? Will you take up with Veronica again when you tire of me?”
Dominic sighed. “You sorely try me, Rose. Why do you refuse to believe me when I say I do not want Veronica?”
“A man of your reputation and sexual stamina needs little provocation to make love to a women. Why should I believe I am any different from countless other women you lusted after?”
He touched the tip of her breast with his fingertip, apparently engrossed with the swelling bud. When he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the taut tip, Rose groaned and arched her back.
“Lust can be a good thing,” Dominic observed. “We should enjoy the one thing we do well together.”
He rose abruptly, his body a study of masculine strength and attractiveness as he walked to the low chest and dampened a cloth in a bowl of water. Rose could not help staring at him, admiring the way he moved; the rippling muscles in his arms and torso and the long tendons of his thighs and legs. His battle scars bore silent witness to his courage and detracted nothing from the overall beauty of his body.
Dominic carried the wet cloth back to the bed. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do my scars disgust you?”
Rose blinked, unaware that she had been staring. “I told you before that they did not.”
He grinned. “Am I to believe that you find something about me to admire?”
“Your body is …” She blushed and looked away. “I mean, you are an attractive man.”
He knelt on the bed and spread her legs.
“What are you doing?”
“Washing my seed from between your legs.”
Rose gritted her teeth and held very still as Dragon plied the wet cloth between her thighs. She blew out a r
elieved sigh when he moved away and used the wet cloth on himself. Rose assumed he was ready to go to sleep but learned how very much she was mistaken when Dragon leaned over her and pressed his lips to her nipple.
“I am tired,” she demurred.
“I am not,” Dominic replied.“This time I intend to love you properly. Making love against a wall leaves much to be desired.”
Rose wanted to agree but could not find even a tiny fault with Dragon’s skill while making love against a wall. The pleasure could not have been more intense in any other position.
Rose’s thoughts splintered when he dragged his mouth down the length of her body, to that place still sensitive and throbbing from his previous loving. His tongue flicked over the hardened bud of her femininity, and she went rigid.
“Do you like that, love?”
She could not find her voice. He must have taken her silence for approval, for he plied his tongue with renewed energy, seeking delicate flesh that burned and pulsed at his intimate touch. Then he inserted his finger into her aching center, and she fell apart. But he was far from finished. She was still hovering on the brink when he rose over her and impaled her, rekindling the flames devouring her as he thrust and withdrew in long, powerful strokes.
The last thing she remembered before losing contact with reality was Dragon’s voice, calling out her name.
Dominic shouted Rose’s name at the height of his passion and released his seed. Somehow, hearing her name on his lips when he climaxed sounded right. When the storm passed, he pulled out and fell in an exhausted heap beside Rose. He hated to leave the sweet warmth of her body, but he was too tired for another bout of lovemaking. After a short rest perhaps …
Dominic did not awaken until daybreak. A morning of hawking had been planned, so he rose immediately, though he would have liked to linger in bed and awaken his wife with kisses. Sighing regretfully, Dominic dressed quickly and left the solar.
The guests were already gathered in the hall, eager to begin the day’s activities. Today they would break their fast with bread and ale, then return to the keep for a substantial midday meal, followed by games and dancing. Hawking was a sport enjoyed by both sexes, and the ladies were as eager to leave as the men.