Brie didn't deign to reply. She merely gave Dominic a withering glance as he handed her down from the coach and preceded him to the inn.
The innkeeper was a widow—small, sour faced, and thoroughly French in her conviction that the English were not much better than the aristocrats her fellow countrymen had guillotined during the Revolution. Dominic had no difficulty overcoming her prejudices, however.
Brie watched his progress in awe, finding it hard to follow his rapid, colloquial French, but having no trouble seeing the effect his considerable masculine charm had on the widow. When the Frenchwoman actually began to blush and simper, Brie rolled her eyes at the ceiling, wondering if all women behaved like idiots when Dominic merely smiled. But then she remembered that she too had found Dominic fascinating and impossible to resist. She lowered her gaze to the crudely woven carpet and kept it trained there until the proprietress was ready to show them upstairs.
Much to Brie's relief, she and Dominic were given separate bedchambers. The room was also far more cheerful than she had expected. A welcome fire burned in the hearth, and the rather large bed, bare of hangings, looked clean and comfortable. When she spied the big wooden tub in the corner,
Brie felt her spirits rise considerably. She asked if she might have a bath before supper, and the Frenchwoman grudgingly agreed to send up some hot water, as well as a tray of food.
While she waited, Brie removed her cloak and gloves and hung the spencer of her travelling suit in the wardrobe. That done, she found herself staring thoughtfully at the bed and wondering why Dominic had decided not to share it with her. She had no desire to repeat the previous night's humiliating scene, but the thought that he might not want her wasn't as comforting as it should have been.
When a knock
sounded at the door, Brie hesitated, thinking that it might be Dominic. But it turned out to be a procession of maids carrying cans of hot water. They were followed by two strapping lads who lugged a large trunk into the room and set it beside the bed.
Brie was puzzled by the trunk and curious to find out what it contained. While the tub was being placed in front of the fire and filled, she inspected the contents. To her surprise she discovered more clothing, enough to fill her needs for an extended journey. Brie smiled softly, realizing that Dominic had gone to greater trouble than he had acknowledged.
When the servants had gone, she carefully closed and locked the door. Anticipating the pleasure of a long bath, she undressed quickly and sighed with contentment as she stepped into the tub. When she had scrubbed herself till her skin was pink and glowing, she washed her hair, then relaxed back against the rim, letting her tired limbs relax. The water felt heavenly, and she closed her eyes, willing her mind to shut out the unsettling images that drifted through it.
The peaceful interlude didn't last long. It seemed like only a moment before she heard the barely discernible creak of a floorboard. Realizing that she wasn't alone, Brie gave a start and sat up. She gasped when she saw Dominic standing beside the tub, looking down at her, his eyes glinting roguishly. His shirt was opened to the waist, displaying a broad expanse of dark-furred chest, and he had a towel flung carelessly over one shoulder.
Seeing where his warm gaze was focused, Brie hastily covered her breasts with her arms. "How did you get in here?" she demanded breathlessly, affronted at her lack of privacy.
"There is a door behind that screen which connects our rooms," Dominic replied, a smile playing on his lips. Cocking his head to one side, he gave her a full grin. "Why such modesty, chérie? I am quite familiar with your body by now. There is no need to hide."
Brie ignored his teasing remark and sank lower in the tub. "What do you want?" she asked, watching him warily.
"Can't you guess?" His gray-eyed gaze roamed her bare shoulders and dipped lower, coming to rest again on the glistening hollow between her breasts. Brie felt her stomach muscles tighten.
When she didn't answer, Dominic added softly, "Are you afraid?" His tone was gentle, much like a caress, and hearing it Brie bit her lip. Afraid? Yes, she was afraid. Not of his violence, for she could fight that with anger. But if he touched her with tenderness, she would respond in the same shameless, wanton way she had the night before. And she could tell by the look in his eyes that Dominic knew it, too.
Brie shook her head. She had to steel herself against his charm, his physical attraction. Even if it meant fighting him every step of the way, she couldn't let herself give in to him so easily.
To her dismay, Dominic tossed his towel on the chair that flanked the fireplace and leisurely began to undress. Seeing the flexing muscles of his arms as he removed his shirt, Brie wondered frantically if there were any way she could delay the inevitable. "You'll get wet," she murmured in a faint voice.
Dominic threw back his head and laughed. "But of course, ma belle. That is what one usually does when one bathes. I thought I would share your bath, since it seemed a shame to put our kind hostess to further trouble. I trust the water is still warm?"
When his breeches followed his shirt, Brie averted her eyes from the magnificent sight of Dominic's nakedness and reached for a towel to cover herself. "I don't believe your motives include sparing the servants," she retorted, irritated by his mocking humor. "You are doing this to annoy me. If I were a man, I would—Oh!" Brie yelped as she was suddenly lifted from the tub and set on her feet.
When Dominic's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her full against him, her heart started to beat so wildly that she was certain he could hear it. The linen towel was still between them, but it was a negligible barrier to Dominic's hard lean body. Brie could feel the heated warmth of his skin as her breasts pressed against his chest, and she couldn't help but be aware of his flagrant masculinity as her thighs molded against his powerful ones. There was no question that he was aroused.
Feeling a hot blush flood her cheeks, Brie focused her gaze on the corded muscles of Dominic's throat, watching the strong beat of his pulse. But when he gripped her chin between his fingers and forced her to meet his gaze, she saw that his grin had faded.
"If you were a man, my sweet," he said grimly, "you would be long since dead. You should be thankful that your body still has its attractions, that you can turn a man's blood to fire."
When she didn't reply, he held her away a little and with a finger, traced a damp path between her breasts. "What is your game, Brie?" he asked, his tone softening. "What secret thoughts are hidden by your bright eyes? Are you a sorceress seeking to bewitch me with your soft lips and seductive curves?"
Brie could only stare at him and wonder at the strange expression in his eyes. Oddly, she could read uncertainty in the gray depths, and she could see anguish flickering there as well.
Then, as if he had said too much, Dominic abruptly released her. Brie shivered as the warmth from his embrace faded. Turning away, she wrapped the towel defensively around her.
When she heard a splash behind her, she knew Dominic had stepped into the tub and that she was safe for the moment. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "What colorful images you have of me, my lord. First a murderess, then a marriage- minded whore, and now a witch. You really must make up you mind, for I cannot be all three. It would be illogical for me to wish both to kill and to marry you; and if I truly were a witch, no doubt I could have found a way out of this predicament before now. God, how I wish that I had never laid eyes on you!" She paused, staring at the fire. "But I won't burden you any longer. I will not be leaving with you tomorrow."
"Do you think it that simple, Brie?"
"I beg your pardon?" She turned to find Dominic watching her intently as he rubbed soapy lather over his chest and shoulders.
"I don't intend to let you out of my sight until this is over," he said holding her gaze.