Velvet Embrace (15 page)

The journey to London had seemed longer than usual. Dominic had spent the better part of it in deep speculation, with Brie at the center of his thoughts. What an enigma, a spitting vixen one moment, a warm passionate creature the next. Dominic smiled to himself as he remembered how she had fought him when he had tried to brush the snow from her hair. She had cut a ridiculous figure in her common boy's garb—but God, what a beauty! Even dressed as a common
stablehand
, the wench had aroused him.
Herprotector
, if there were one, was wise to keep his beautiful possession hidden deep in the country.

Staring out at the night without seeing, Dominic recalled her stormy eyes and the way they sparkled with tears when she had found herself his prisoner. How vulnerable she had looked, with her long fringe of lashes brushing her wet cheeks, her soft red lips quivering with dismay. How he had wanted to kiss away her tears, to soothe the fear in her eyes.

He had not meant to frighten her in the first place. He had only intended to tease her, to depress the pretentious haughtiness she had adopted with him. But when he had tasted the sweetness of her mouth and felt her lithe, slender body respond to his lovemaking with that curious mixture of innocence and desire, he had wanted her in a way he had not wanted any woman in a long while. She was refreshingly natural, like a wild creature of the forest. She seemed unbound by the conventions that made either prudes or whores of other women.

Once more Dominic found himself contemplating her station. Her cultured voice indicated that she was not a commoner, while her bearing and authoritative manner were too pronounced for a servant, even a lady's maid. But no self- respecting lady of his acquaintance would be caught dead in the faded gown Brie had worn, let alone a pair of men's breeches. Perhaps she was the by-blow of some local landowner. That would explain her proud but wild conduct. It might also explain why she had had to resort to becoming some elderly gentleman's mistress.

Dominic frowned. The thought of Brie belonging to another man was decidedly disturbing. But he would rectify that as soon as he returned to the country. Seducing her might prove to be a delicate task, of course. First he would have to lure her away from whichever gentleman had the pleasure of keeping her, and then he would have to tame the little wildcat. Except that it was not just a matter of taming, Dominic reminded himself. He would have to overcome her reservations as well. He wanted her willing, not flinching with apprehension. He wanted to have her warm body arching eagerly against his, to have those taut, provocative breasts burning against his chest. . . .

Dominic's eyes glinted as he imagined the enticing sensation of Brie lying naked in his arms, her silken limbs entwined with his, her pleasure matching his own. He could half feel her slender hips thrusting sweetly against his loins.

No, he had not expected to find anything quite like Brie when he had accepted Julian's invitation to the quiet countryside. Dominic slowly traced the thin red welt on his cheek where her riding crop had bitten his skin, and then he laughed softly. The willful beauty would not escape him so easily at their next meeting. She would pay for her rashness—a price of his choosing. The wildcat would
learri
to sheath her claws and purr at his slightest touch.

So vowing, Dominic firmly relegated the images of Brie to the far recesses of his mind and shut the window. As he turned away to dress, he spared a glance at Denise wrapped in her warm cocoon.

He regretted the impulse that had led to his renewed involvement with her. It had been a mistake, of course. Old affairs, like sleeping dogs, were best left undisturbed. Indeed, he had only taken advantage of Denise's availability in an effort to dispel a frustrated desire for a stormy-eyed temptress.

Unbidden, the vision of Brie returned and Dominic felt a swift tightening of groin muscles as his body tensed in anticipation. Brie held out her arms to him, beckoning, teasing, taunting,
her
glorious hair spilling down to hide her slender, womanly curves. . . .

Yes, most definitely he would return. He would find her, track her down if need be. And, yes, punish her for kindling this painful desire that threatened his rational mind. Soon, Dominic told himself as he silently let himself from the room. This business with
Germain
must be dealt with swiftly, and then he would be free to pursue his vixen.

During the following week, the Earl of Stanton was seen frequently about town in the company of various females, although Denise was not among their number. Dominic made little progress in his search for
Germain
, however, and by the time he met Jason at White's club on St. James Street a
sennight
later, he was beginning to lose patience.

The two men settled in one of the reading rooms where they could talk in private. Dominic stood before the fireplace, gazing intently into the flames, while Jason relaxed on a plush leather sofa.

Dominic's friendship with Jason Stuart, Lord
Effing
, was of long standing—having begun when they were at Eton together. Although they both possessed keen intelligences and virile, muscular bodies, they differed in many respects. Jason

was
several inches taller and had a heavier build. He was also fair where Dominic was dark, and his features were less harsh. His blue eyes danced with laughter, manifesting none of the chill that often filled Dominic's gray ones.

When Dominic seemed disinclined to speak, Jason broached the subject of Charles
Germain
. "I take it the search has been futile so far?" he said, tilting his tawny head to one side as he scrutinized his friend.

"Entirely," Dominic responded. "
Germain
was seen once this past week, but Manning's agent lost him. I think tomorrow I'll begin making my own inquiries. This waiting is growing intolerable. I want to get back to Julian's place as soon as may be."

Jason raised an eyebrow.
"A woman?"
When Dominic slanted a piercing glance over his shoulder, he chuckled. "Come now, Dom. The shooting cannot be very good this time of the year, and you've never been anxious to bury yourself in the country. There must be another attraction besides Denville's company."

"There is," Dominic said softly, taking a sip of brandy.

"Another conquest to add to your string?"

Unconsciously, Dominic raised a hand to his cheek. "This one won't be so easy. She's a little wildcat who forgets she is female. I was about to teach her a well-deserved lesson when Manning's bloodhound interrupted us."

"Don't tell me she slapped you?"

Dominic's smile did not reach his eyes. "On the contrary, she struck me with her riding whip."

"Good God, it's a wonder you left her with her skin intact. She sounds troublesome. Why bother with her? You have more than enough beauties hanging on your sleeve as it is. What about the Opera dancer all our friends are raving about—Miss Crowell? You were seen with her at least once this past week. I would have thought a woman with her charms could hold you for a time."

Dominic shrugged. "I didn't bother to find out. I only
wanted Cassandra to draw
Germain's
attention, and she suited my purpose for the evening. Her charms, as you put it, were adequate, but she liked the color of my money too well for me to contemplate anything further.
A trifle too grasping.
But then, aren't all women? Except Lauren, of course," Dominic added, knowing Jason's love for his wife.

Jason laughed. "Not all, my friend—although many are, I suppose. At least Cassandra Crowell won't expect marriage. I hear Lady Denise has been thinking along those lines. Rumor has it that you have her in keeping again. There's even been speculation that she's holding out for the greater prize of becoming your countess."

"Denise knows me better than that."

"Perhaps, but the odds in the betting books went up when the lady suddenly acquired an exquisite ruby bracelet."

"Merely a parting gift," Dominic acknowledged with a frown. "Do you know, all this talk about women and marriage is beginning to bore
me.
What do you say we adjourn to the
cardrooms
?"

"Thanks, but I'll have to decline. I don't like to leave Lauren for too long. She tires easily in her condition. Incidentally, she asked me to remind you of your promise to stand godfather when our child is born."

"I remember. You can assure her I'll be in town for the christening."

They talked for a while longer before Jason took his leave, and afterward Dominic made a leisurely stroll through the card rooms in search of some worthy sport. He had his choice of Hazard, Commerce,
Vingt
-Un, or Faro, but none of the stakes were as high as he liked. He joined the play at the Faro table for a time, but the game didn't hold his interest for long.
A few hours later he was shrugging into his greatcoat and accepting his hat and gloves from a footman.
Meaning to walk, he directed the doorman to send his carriage home and stepped into the night.

An icy wind whipped around him as he strode down St.
James Street. The gusts played havoc with the recently installed gas lamps, but the freezing temperatures at least succeeded in reducing the putrid smell of the London streets. Dominic hunched his shoulders against the chill and buried his hands deeper in the pockets of his greatcoat. The silence of the night was sometimes broken by the clatter of a passing hackney, although Dominic hardly noticed as he pondered how to solve his current dilemma.

The situation was indeed puzzling. He had seldom been frustrated by circumstances as he was now, but the mere fact that he was anxious to be done with the problem of
Germain
was odd. Normally he welcomed such diversions.

When he had succeeded to the title and inherited his grandfather's vast fortune, Dominic had had the means to indulge almost any desire he cared to name. He had given up a life of leisure, however, for the challenge of pitting his skills against the formidable agents of Napoleon's government. During the war, he had had to depend on his wits and his superb physical condition merely to survive. Even with Napoleon imprisoned on Elba, his skills had been needed, since several factions in France and England were busy planning the Corsican's escape while trying to drum up support for his return to power.

Dominic had worked for Edward Manning in the Foreign Office for nearly six years before Waterloo had put an end to his spying activities. At loose ends again, his fortune diminished by inflation and heavy wartime losses, he had set about rebuilding his holdings. He had spent a great deal of time at his country seat in Kent, plowing the income back into the land and making it
thrive
again.

When his satisfaction with that endeavor had lessened, he had begun to travel a great deal. The lifestyle suited him, although it offered him few challenges. Moving about the great capitals of the world, however, he was at least able to ease the gnawing restlessness that filled him after too long a stay in one place.

His most recent travels had taken him to America where he had enjoyed the untamed wilderness of that vast country for nearly a year before moving on to the West Indies. But the urge to return to a familiar way of life at last had driven him home. Since then, however, he had been oddly discontent with his life. And now he felt trapped where he normally experienced only boredom.

He knew quite well what was causing his present vexation of spirit, though.
Brie.
He had been unable to forget her. There were constant reminders of her.
The glowing coals of a fire, a heated conversation, a passionate embrace, the tang of snow in the air.

Even Jason's wife Lauren had reminded him of Brie. Earlier in the week when he had dined with the
Effings
, the sparkling green of Lauren's eyes had mesmerized him for a moment, even though they were a different shade from Brie's, with too little blue, and none of the stormy clouds.