Captive Bride (7 page)

 
"You, sir, are no gentleman!" Rozalyn hissed venomously, struggling not to scream at him.

 
"Nor did I claim to be," Dominic calmly reminded her. "If that was one of your qualifications you should have inquired about the matter before you hauled me up behind you and carted me to your grandmother's doorstep. Really,
amie
, you are much too impulsive to be so particular."

 
Her eyes burned with scorching blue flames. "Oh, how I would love to—"

 
"Temper, temper," Dominic scolded in an infuriatingly mocking tone.

 
Temper be damned! Rozalyn bared her claws and stalked toward him, but he flung up a hand to forestall her. Nodding his raven head toward the front door, he silently reminded Rozalyn that he was still within shouting distance of Lenore. When Rozalyn begrudgingly retracted her claws, Dominic arrogantly drew himself up in front of her. Then, clasping his hands behind him, he addressed her with a taunting smile. "Now, love, will you pay me for my time and trouble or shall I run and tattle to
Grand’mere
?"

 
Rozalyn clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt. Oh, how she itched to put this conniving rascal in his place. But Dominic, scoundrel that he was, had backed her into a corner, leaving her no way to retreat. How she detested being outmaneuvered, especially by a man. It infuriated her to watch him gloat over her predicament. He was taking pleasure at her expense and Rozalyn deeply resented it.

 
"I will pay cash for my mistake in summoning your assistance," she grumbled, fishing into her purse to retrieve sufficient funds.

 
Instantly, Dominic's long, lean fingers folded around her wrist to restrain her, and an ornery smile dangled from one corner of his mouth. "I cannot be bought with cold, hard cash, my dear." Meeting her perturbed glare, he told her bluntly, "It is you I want and I will settle for nothing less."

 
Rozalyn had been afraid he was going to say something like that. The blackguard. Her temper came to a boil and her eyes blazed up like a forest fire. Yanking her hand from his grasp, she fumed. "Surely you don't think I will become your human sacrifice. If you do, you are utterly mad!"

 
Again her voice rose until she was all but shouting into his grinning face. Dominic pressed his index finger to her pouting lips before she drew a crowd. "There must be a first time in every woman's life. I see no reason why this shouldn't be it. That seems fair compensation for portraying your devoted lackey. And for your information,
cherie
, I am as sane as you are," he assured her with a smug smile.

 
"That has yet to be determined." Rozalyn glared daggers at his broad chest. "If you think for one minute I will allow myself to be hornswoggled into your bed to serve your lusty needs, you'd better think again, Dominic Baudelair. I want nothing to do with you!"

 
"Then you did not enjoy our previous embrace?" His tone implied that he would not believe her if she responded negatively, not after the way she had melted in his arms. "Come now, Rozalyn. Be honest with yourself." She could deny the attraction to appease her stubborn pride, but Dominic had known the moment his lips met hers that a spark of passion had leaped between them.

 
"I would have vehemently protested your kisses and bold caresses if
Grand’mere
had not been sitting there watching us," she declared. "Regardless of your high opinion of yourself, you are not God's gift to women. Indeed, you have the personality of a snake!"

 
Without preamble, Dominic pulled her into his arms, intent on proving her a liar. His mouth swooped down on hers, stealing her breath and the objection she most certainly would have voiced.

 
"The
grande dame
is watching us from the window," he whispered. "Be convincing, Roz. We don't want Lenore to see us having a lover's spat on her front lawn."

 
Rozalyn melted against him like snow thawed by a campfire, her arms curling instinctively about his broad shoulders, and before she was aware of what she was doing she was kissing him back!
Mon Dieu
. What was the matter with her? She and Dominic had been in the middle of a trenchant argument. She had only to pretend that she enjoyed his fiery kiss. But no, the flame of anger had been transformed into passion, and she'd instantly warmed to this rogue's touch. Rozalyn wondered if she actually felt something for him. That is impossible, she told herself. She had just met Dominic and she wasn't even sure she liked him.

 
As his arms tightened about her, pulling her full length against his muscular frame, his blazing kiss ebbed, and lips as gentle as the summer wind whispered over hers, eliciting an unwilling response. He had abandoned forcefulness for tender seduction. His probing tongue traced the inner softness of her lips and then intruded into the sweet darkness of her mouth. Tiny shards of pleasure tingled beneath her skin as Dominic's masculine body moved sensuously against her, allowing her to feel the hungry need she'd aroused in him.

 
A knot of desire uncoiled deep inside Rozalyn, but the sensation baffled her. She chastised herself for surrendering so easily to his embrace when she knew full well what he expected in return for portraying her beau.

 
When Dominic abruptly broke their kiss, Rozalyn blinked bewilderedly, and when he withdrew his supporting arms, she had to regain her equilibrium. My, but his kisses had a strange effect on her.

 
"I will be expecting you to come to me tonight,
petite
nymphe," he murmured, his flaming emerald eyes holding her hostage. "I am staying at my grandparents' estate. I will send a coach for you."

 
Rozalyn could not seem to take her eyes off his bronzed face. He held her captive with his probing gaze, forcing her to consent, though her mind was screaming no. Had she lost what little sense she had been born with? She couldn't traipse off to a stranger's home, knowing full well what he expected of her. Yet could she refuse when this scoundrel would go straight to Lenore and spill the truth?

 
A thoughtful frown knitted Rozalyn's brow while she' studied the smile lines that crinkled his tanned features and considered her alternatives. Despite a long line of suitors she had kept her innocence intact by using her wits, she reminded herself. There were ways to deal with men who used women for their lusty purposes. She would somehow maneuver this rakehell into agreeing to escort her to her grandmother's party. All she had to do was give the matter serious consideration. She would approach it calmly and rationally, but once she had maneuvered Dominic into doing her bidding she was going to have him strung up on the tallest tree in St. Lo
ui
s. He deserved no better for treating her so badly. It would be interesting to see just how arrogant Dominic Baudelair would be when his neck was stretched out like a giraffe's.

 
"I will await your carriage," she promised, determined not to part on a sour note since she desperately needed his assistance.

 
"Shall we say eight o'clock?" Dominic curled his index finger beneath her chin, tilting her face to his and noting the flareup of mischief in those mystical blue eyes. She was scheming, he realized. What prank did this fiery beauty have in store for him? You will find out soon enough, he warned himself. He made a mental note to be prepared for whatever deviltry this witch was brewing.

 
"Eight it is," she confirmed. Her curious gaze drifted to the window above them. Had her grandmother truly been spying on them or had Dominic manipulated her into his arms like a spider spinning a treacherous web around a defenseless fly?

 
His face brightened with mischievous glee when he noticed where her eyes had strayed. Chuckling, Dominic pivoted away to swagger down the street. "I lied," he confessed in an unrepentant tone. "The beldame wasn't really watching us. I wanted one last kiss to sustain me until tonight."

 
Furious red splashed across Rozalyn's cheeks, and she glanced hurriedly about in search of some weapon to hurl at the cunning Dominic, but she found nothing, not even a rock. Muttering under her breath, she mounted her stallion and flew down the street, silently listing the flaws in Dominic's character—and there are plenty of them, she thought.

 
Dominic dived sideways as Rozalyn thundered past, not about to risk having hoofprints on his back. He figured only a fool would underestimate Rozalyn DuBois. After she had galloped away, her skirt billowing in the wind, her raven hair trailing behind her, Dominic rolled to his feet. Snickering, he watched the tempestuous Rozalyn disappear around the corner. He had stumbled upon a most unusual woman, the like of which he had never known. This lovely hoyden had blown into his life like a misdirected whirlwind, sweeping him into the eye of a storm.

 
Yet this blue-eyed spitfire fascinated him. She was a strange concoction—part desirable woman, part temperamental child. The freshness of youth sparkled in her sky-blue eyes, and her smiles radiated like the sun. Still, Rozalyn DuBois was a contradiction of everything he had come to anticipate in a woman. She was a curious enigma. The fairer sex had always come willingly into his arms, and often uninvited. But not Rozalyn. She was fighting her attraction to him, stubbornly, defiantly. What was she so afraid of? Why was she so defensive? Dominic had expected to find a cold, impassive maid in his arms after the rumors he had heard. But he had discovered that beneath her heavy coat of armor lurked a warm, passionate woman. He knew he would not be satisfied until they had shared far more than a kiss.

 
A grin of roguish anticipation rippled across his lips. Tonight he would sample that gorgeous vixen's charms.

After he had played the charade for Lenore he might even . . . Dominic shook away such thoughts. He would let tomorrow take care of itself. After all, tonight was foremost in his mind. Once he had shared intimate moments with this young woman from the St. L
oui
s' debutante, he might become bored with her. Few women held his interest for any length of time. He had been born under a wandering star and he wanted no entangling bonds to trip him up. He was an adventurer who thrived in the wild. He had an aversion to being hobbled by a female. Still, Rozalyn had piqued his curiosity, she was a challenge. Once he had satisfied his curiosity he would be on his merry way.

 
Dominic broke stride and very nearly stumbled over his own feet, when a troubled thought shot through his mind, sending his soaring spirits plunging. Christ, he had thought himself so clever in his dealings with Rozalyn yet he'd failed to realize he had waded in over his head. He had been so distracted by her beauty that he had neglected to consider that he was not dealing with just any woman. How could he force Rozalyn into his bed when he had important business with Aubrey DuBois? The last thing he needed was to have Rozalyn running to her father and claiming that he'd made improper advances. Then he wouldn't be able to persuade Aubrey to lower his prices.

 
Confound it, that changed everything! Dominic had backed this lovely sprite into a corner, but he had failed to notice that he had crowded himself into one. Why the devil had he consented to assist her in this harebrained scheme? Because the beast within him had been drawn to her curvaceous body and flawless face. Fool! Dominic berated himself. How the devil was he going to worm his way out of this mess without alienating Rozalyn? Dammit, he needed her assistance as much as she needed his.

 
Grappling with these disturbing thoughts, Dominic aimed himself toward the Baudelair estate, intending to spend the afternoon considering the repercussions of dallying with this raven-haired she-cat. He was playing with fire, and if he wasn't careful, he'd get burned. Like it or not, he would have to handle this blue-eyed hellion like fragile crystal. That had never been his way in the past, but circumstances were forcing him to turn over a new leaf in his dealings with women—Rozalyn in particular. She stood squarely between him and Aubrey DuBois. However, he could not allow her to know that, for she would use that knowledge as a weapon. And, judging by what Dominic had learned about this wily vixen in the taverns on the wharf, Rozalyn DuBois needed no more weapons at her disposal.

 
Wouldn't it be ironic if she fell in love with him and then aided him in his dealings with Aubrey? Dominic began to consider the possibility. If he set out to charm this minx, her attachment to him would make her vulnerable. Then she would do exactly as he commanded. It would serve such a free-spirited lass right to find herself infatuated after she'd left a string of broken hearts in her wake. A wry smile slanted across Dominic's lips. He would play the perfect gentleman, cater to Rozalyn, dote over her without wallowing at her feet. He would woo her, become her champion in her hour of need. Then she would return the favor without realizing that Dominic had carefully sought to obtain her allegiance.

 
Grinning in satisfaction, he veered toward his estate, intent on planning his encounter with Rozalyn. Before I finish with that wildcat I will have her purring like a kitten, he promised himself. I will do so for an important purpose, Dominic rationalized when his conscience flared. He was the spokesman for the hunters and trappers. Their livelihood depended on him. So, on the wings of self-righteousness, Dominic strode up the steps of the huge stone manor. Quietly, he shut the door behind him, then he began to calculate his tactics for the upcoming evening.