Dominic forced back a smile; Brie's portrayal of the haughty beauty was unequalled. "I'm afraid I must object," he replied, struck now by an irrational whim to keep her near him. "It's raining outside—or hadn't you noticed?"
"Of course I noticed. But I have been in worse weather."
"I'm not disputing your ability to withstand the elements, but the fact is, Jacques can't be spared to escort you at the moment and I personally have no desire to brave the storm." He paused, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "Would you have me accuse you of going to meet someone?"
Brie left off tying the strings of her cloak to stare incredulously at him. "Just who am I supposed to meet?" she asked finally. "A lover, perhaps? Or your nameless enemies, or maybe even my grandfather? Your imagination astounds me!"
Seeing Dominic's unchanging expression, Brie threw up her hands. "Very well! Just to prove to you that there is no meeting, I will sit here and quietly go mad from boredom!" The low rumble in Dominic's throat sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and it made Brie bristle. "I am serious, Dominic! I shall go distracted any minute now."
"Can you not sew or embroider or—"
"Is that how you think I occupy my time, embroidery?"
This time Dominic didn't hide his laughter. "Nothing so mundane or feminine as stitching for you, little wildcat, is that it?" Still chuckling, he rose and went to his trunk. Brie watched him warily, but Dominic only fished out a leather- bound volume and held it out to her. "You do read, do you not?"
Brie accepted his offering, arching an eyebrow when she saw the title. "Richard III? I didn't think your tastes ran to Shakespeare."
"I enjoy many things, chérie," he said with a grin. He tugged at the ribbons of her cloak, but when he slid the garment from her shoulders, Brie spun away and settled herself on the rug before the fire. She lay on her side, her head propped up with one hand and her feet tucked under her skirts. Watching her, Dominic couldn't help but smile. She was forever unconventional; never would she do the expected. He went back to his work, giving Brie only an occasional glance as he made his plans.
Some time later a discreet knock at the door brought an end to their quiet interlude. Remembering the contretemps of that morning, Dominic went to the door, giving Brie time to adjust her undignified position and smooth her skirts before a maidservant entered with a luncheon tray. The girl spread the dishes on the table and departed with a curtsy, leaving Brie and Dominic to enjoy a savory stew and a bottle of the inn's finest wine.
They ate in silence, a silence Brie felt acutely after the past few days of lively conversation and laughter. At the conclusion of the meal, she carefully set down her fork and launched into the apology she had formulated. "Dominic, I am sorry for what I said this morning. I didn't mean it . . . about killing you. I . . . I suppose I overreacted. Katherine has always said my greatest failing is my temper."
When she wouldn't look at him, Dominic reached out and gently grasped her chin. His eyes were warm and teasing again as they scanned her face. "No matter, vixen. The pleasure you bring me is enough to make me overlook your occasional tantrums."
Brie's eyes flashed at his provoking remark, but she held her temper in check as she twisted her chin from his grasp. "You can be so kind one moment, and yet such a beast the next."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly hooded. "I never claimed to be kind, Brie. If I am, it is merely because of our agreement."
"I know," she said, looking away.
Feeling more despondent than ever, she rose and went to the window. The rain had almost stopped, but the world outside was still sodden and gray. It looked precisely the way her heart felt: miserable. Dominic wasn't coming to care for her. By his own admission, his cordiality was only a means to his own end—only a way of making the time spent in her company more bearable.
"Brie, come here." When she heard his soft command, she tried not to respond, but then his voice dropped to a caress and he said her name again. Slowly, Brie turned and went to him.
He was startled by the sadness in her eyes. Wanting very much to erase that look, Dominic curved an arm around her waist and gently pulled her down onto his lap. Tilting her face up to his, he stroked the delicate line of her jaw for a moment, then bent his head and kissed her.
His lips were soft and warm at first, moving over hers with tender possession. But then his tongue began alternately to caress and plunder.
Brie responded with an awakening hunger, raising her hands to his shoulders, involuntarily curling her fingers into his hard muscles. Her tongue warred with his, dueling, caressing in return. When his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, she felt a treacherous heat begin to build inside her. Dominic's thighs were like flexing granite beneath her, and the feel of his probing hardness through their layers of clothes aroused and excited her.
When his lips left hers to slide hotly across her cheek to her ear, Brie shuddered as a tremulous wave of longing racked her body. She made no protest as Dominic deftly unfastened the buttons at the back of her high-necked gown. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders, freeing her breasts from the confines of her chemise, then bent his head once more.
"Dominic!" Brie gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple. But as a sweeping wave of desire flooded her, she arched her back, shamelessly offering herself to him.
Dominic greedily accepted her offering. He savored the sweetness of her flesh, his tongue curling over the desire- swollen peaks, his teeth nipping at her with gentle fierceness. Brie was aching with need even before his hand found its way beneath her skirts, gliding past silk stockings and lacy garters to stroke a slender satin thigh, then beyond to the recesses of her femininity, already hot and wet with welcome.
Brie whimpered, her body straining against his, begging for release. But Dominic only nuzzled his face deeper into the satin hollow between her breasts, while his fingers continued expertly plying the softness between her thighs.
Finally Brie could stand no more. Her hands fumbled feverishly with the buttons of his breeches, until at last his sex sprang huge and proud f
rom a nest of dark, curling hair. When Brie's fingers closed around him, Dominic sucked in his breath. "God . . . you little witch."
Feeling his control begin to slip, he raised her gown to her waist with savage impatience, baring her fully. Then grasping her hips, Dominic lifted Brie to settle her astride him, onto his powerful shaft. He closed his eyes and groaned as he was sheathed in rippling velvet.
He might have proceeded slowly if Brie hadn't begun to move her hips in a desperate attempt to assuage the aching need he had created in her. Losing all control then, Dominic closed his hands over her buttocks, lifting her up only to bring her down again, and then again, thrusting himself even more deeply inside her each time, his hardness impaling her soft flesh.
Brie loved his fierceness. Sobbing, she threw her head back, mindlessly digging her nails into his muscled back as his body slammed upwards into hers. She felt him shaking and throbbing inside her as she cried out his name. And then came the blinding explosion, an intense burst of pleasure that sent sweet shocks flooding through her and Dominic, as well.