Velvet Embrace

by Nicole Jordan

  The silence mounted, making the air between them vibrate. Dominic watched her intently, his gray eyes cold and alert, and several uncomfortable moments passed before he slowly slipped the gun back into his belt.

  Brie let out her breath in a rush, but when she found her voice, it sounded weak and trembling, even to her own ears. "I would count the score even, my lord, for I am unarmed. I was not planning to attack you, whatever you might be thinking. I was trying to avoid you."

  Dominic merely sat there regarding her, one hand loosely holding the reins, the other resting on his thigh. "Is that what you were doing, lurking behind the bushes?" he said finally.

  Brie couldn't tell whether it was amusement or annoyance she heard in his voice, but his question made her bristle. "I wasn't lurking! Devil take you! You gave me the fright of my life. Did you truly mean to shoot me?"

  "The thought had crossed my mind, Miss Carringdon." The words were said with a hint of sarcasm, but his lips twitched as if he were repressing a smile.

  Brie stared at his handsome, enigmatic face, trying to guess what was going on behind those cool gray eyes. Then she remembered the odd sensation that had disturbed her earlier. "Have you been following me?" she asked suspiciously.

  Dominic's lips twisted in a smile. "No. Did you wish me to?"

  "Of course not! I just—" She broke off, realizing he would think her imaginings foolish. He was already grinning at her in that mocking way that made her want to slap him.

  "You just . . . what, mademoiselle?" Dominic prompted. When Brie refused to answer, he urged his stallion nearer, until he was directly beside her. "I had thought this road was public domain, but perhaps I should have asked your permission before making use of it."

  Brie's anger was rising rapidly. "Certainly you don't need my permission, my lord—though I doubt that would have made the least difference to you. It was just that you frightened me."

  "I must beg your pardon, then. It was not my intention to frighten you or to make you avoid my company."

  Brie eyed him warily, wondering at his sudden amiableness. She couldn't tell if Stanton were sincere or if this were merely another of his taunts. Then Dominic suddenly smiled one of his sweet, angelic smiles. It surprised Brie greatly, making her blink.

  "I would not quite call it even between us," he said smoothly, "but it might be wise if we agreed to start over. I am willing to forget our previous encounters if you are."

  That her enemy was the first to offer the olive branch did not ease Brie's conscience. She hesitated, chewing on her lip. "But I cannot forget, my lord," she said at last. "I still owe you an apology. Please let me say that I am truly sorry for what happened. In all honesty, though, I didn't realize the condition of my blade. I . . . I suppose I got too caught up in the heat of the moment. I hope you will believe that I didn't really mean to harm you," she concluded lamely. She lowered her eyes then, for Dominic's gaze had suddenly become quite piercing.

  "Very prettily said," he remarked.

  "Well, if you don't choose to accept my apology . . ." She started to turn her horse around, but he edged his closer.

  "Ah, but I do choose." Catching Brie's hand, he lifted it to his lips.

  Brie was startled by his intimate gesture. Her fingers tingled with warmth where Dominic's lips brushed her skin, and her breathing quickened. She withdrew her hand as quickly as possible, but her eyes were held by his gray gaze.

  He smiled at her again, making her feel that strange, melting sensation. "How could I possibly refuse such a charming apology?" he said softly.

  His tone was low and caressing and highly unnerving. Brie felt a quiver run up her spine. "Well, I know you were angry," she said nervously, "but I don't think you were ever in any real danger, with me as your opponent."

  "Au contraire, mademoiselle, I was quite impressed with your skill."

  She gave him a tentative smile. "Thank you, my lord, but I was not expecting compliments. You were far better than I— and what's more, you knew it. You are just saying that to be kind."

  "I am seldom kind, Miss Carringdon."

  Unable to tell if he spoke in jest, Brie glanced at Dominic uncertainly. "Then it was mere flattery," she said, trying to dismiss the subject. "But at any rate, it makes no difference. I have vowed to give up fencing."

  Dominic grinned, his teeth flashing. "You relieve my mind."

  Hearing the dry note in his voice, Brie laughed. "I agree," she retorted. "You are not kind." When Dominic's stallion snorted and began shaking his head up and down as if he concurred, she laughed again.

  Jester took exception to all the movement, however, and began prancing nervously. Brie spent a moment calming him, then found herself responding to Dominic's suggestion that they move on.

  She was surprised to learn Dominic meant to escort her home, but she accepted his company politely, objecting only when he asked why a groom had not accompanied her. "Your concern is misplaced, my lord," she said loftily. "I am riding on my own land and do not feel the need for a groom."

  "I would have thought you had learned the need for caution in these secluded spots. It can be dangerous for you to ride alone."

  She slanted a glance at him. "It is extremely ungallant of you to remind me after you said we could forget that particular incident. I have never needed protection before . . . before you.

  The corner of Dominic's mouth lifted in a smile. "I was not speaking of myself."

  "No?" Brie asked skeptically. "Is it not your habit to go about assaulting every woman you meet?"

  "Merely the ones who interest me."

  Brie felt her pulse quicken. "Am I to assume I interest you then?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent. "How flattering! But I am not sure I care for your way of showing it. You have already threatened to beat me and run me through with your sword."

  "I was given extreme provocation, you will recall. And you could have prevented it, had you told me who you were. Why didn't you?"

  Seeing him regard her curiously, Brie felt a blush warm her cheeks. "I was merely trying to protect my reputation. I thought that if you didn't know my name, you couldn't brag to your London friends about finding me alone without a chaperon."

  Dominic's eyebrow rose. "I assure you I am far more discreet than that."

  Brie suspected there was a double meaning to his words, but she chose not to find out. "I know that now," she said meekly.

  "You certainly were convincing. You even had me believing that tale about your elderly protector."

  "Well, even if he was imaginary, he did 'protect' me. At least a little."

  Dominic grinned. "I suppose he did at that. Should I apologize for making you an indecent proposal?"

  Brie felt her blush deepening. "That isn't necessary. I would rather forget about it entirely."

  "I expect there are a few things I won't be able to forget," he murmured.

  When she remained silent, Dominic let his eyes skim down her figure, noting the disreputable clothes she wore. It was a shame to cover such lovely charms that way, he found himself thinking. A wood sprite ought not be dressed in rags. She needed a gossamer wisp of forest green to drape around her lithe body—if she needed anything at all. When his mind conjured up just such a vivid image, Dominic shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. "Tell me, Miss Carringdon," he said to distract his thoughts, "do you always ride astride?"

  Very aware of his scrutiny, Brie was glad for the change of subject, even if it meant having to defend her eccentricities. "You don't approve of my breeches, I suppose. But you can have no notion of how uncomfortable it is to ride sidesaddle, encumbered by a long skirt and endless petticoats."

  Dominic chuckled. "No, and I have no wish to find out. I quail at the thought of sitting in one of those contraptions." Seeing Brie smile, he shook his head. "The look in your eye is daring me to try, but I assure you, Miss Carringdon, I don't intend to take up that particular challenge."

  "I don't expect you to, my lord, but neither do I expect your censure.
I don't wear breeches to flout convention—merely because they are practical and comfortable. But," Brie added defiantly, "I don't know why I am defending myself to you, Lord Stanton. You probably do exactly as you please without regard to anyone else's opinion."

  When Dominic only smiled enigmatically, Brie switched to a more appropriate topic of conversation and asked him about the beautiful animal he rode. Dominic told her that the horse was indeed Spanish and had been named Diablo by his previous owners. It was on the tip of Brie's tongue to ask if the stallion were used for breeding purposes, but she refrained, deciding that such an unladylike question would only give him more reason to disapprove of her. Remembering her cousin's warnings about competing with men, she frowned.

  She didn't realize how long she had been silent, until Dominic asked in a somewhat sardonic tone if he had somehow displeased her. Brie looked at him blankly, then silently laughed at herself. What did it matter what Stanton thought of her? He had already seen her at her worst. "I beg your pardon," she replied, shaking her head. "I fear I am guilty of coveting your stallion."

  Amusement warmed his gray eyes. "Do you think you could handle him?"

  "I should love to try."

  "Then by all means, you must do so." He reined in his horse and dismounted before Brie could answer.

  When he came around to help her down, Brie swung her leg over her horse's neck. "You would trust me with him?" she asked skeptically.

  Dominic grasped her waist and easily lifted her down, but he didn't release her at once. When Brie looked up at him, her breath unexpectedly caught in her throat. It was desire she saw in Dominic's eyes, pure and simple. She was shaken by that look, but she stood motionless, caught by his gaze. His hands remained about her waist, exerting the slightest pressure, while his well-shaped mouth moved slowly toward hers. . . .

  "Is there any reason I shouldn't trust you?" she heard him murmur, not imagining the huskiness of his voice. She tensed, anticipating the feel of his mouth, of his hard body pressing against her.

  But nothing happened. Dominic merely stepped back, breaking the spell.

  Leading her to Diablo, he tossed Brie into the saddle, then turned to mount the bay. Brie stared at him a moment, before her attention was claimed by her new mount. Unaccustomed to having such a light weight on his back, the stallion quite deliberately tried to unseat her, rearing and dancing in circles. Brie merely tightened the grip of her legs and kept a strong hold of the reins.

  Dominic watched the battle for supremacy with amusement. It was an interesting contest, the beautiful girl and the giant black horse, both spirited and strong willed. But he never doubted who would win. He sat calmly waiting, his hands resting on the bay's neck.

  Diablo finally submitted to Brie's control. Pleased by her triumph, she paused to catch her breath, but at Dominic's soft laughter, she looked up sharply. When she realized that the gleam in his gray eyes was approval, though, her defiant glare faded, and she even found herself responding to Dominic's engaging grin.

  "May I try his paces over a fence or two?" she asked, edging the stallion closer. When Dominic raised a doubtful eyebrow, Brie laughed. "Come now, my lord, you said you trusted me to ride him. In fact, it might be more appropriate for me to ask if you can handle Julian's gelding. I give you fair warning that he shies. You won't care much for his habits, but you may follow—if you can."

  The challenge was flung over her shoulder as she wheeled the stallion around and dug her heels into his flanks, spurring him into a gallop.

  She set a fast pace, taking any obstacle in her path, but Dominic was hard on her heels. The bay gave him more difficulty than he had expected, even after Brie's warning, but he enjoyed the chase.

  When they at last pulled up after a long run, the horses were breathing heavily. They exchanged mounts once more, much to Brie's disappointment, and turned toward Greenwood.

  "Diablo is magnificent!" she exclaimed, trying to forget the discomfitting feel of Dominic's hands around her waist.

  He acknowledged her praise with a bow. "And so is your skill," he remarked quite honestly.

  "How can one not be good on such an animal?" Brie replied, laughing. "I don't suppose you would consider selling him?"

  Dominic gave Brie a speculative glance. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were lit with a becoming sparkle, seeming more blue than green in her present mood. Even in her boy's garb, she was undeniably desirable. And when she was laughing, as she was now, she was not only beautiful, she was enchanting.

  "I might be persuaded," he replied enigmatically. More than that he refused to say. He was determined not to introduce terms before she was ready to accept them.

  Instead, he directed her attention to the approaching storm. He had been keeping a watchful eye on the darkening sky, and now, as his eyes scanned the horizon, he could make out the edge of a swiftly racing squall line.

  Brie followed his gaze to where a great black mass of clouds was rolling across the heavens. The flash of lightning in the distance was accompanied by the ominous rumble of thunder, and the raw, wintry wind, which had been gaining force during their long ride, whirled about them now in biting gusts.

  Brie returned a worried frown to Dominic's unspoken question. Normally, a bit of rain or even a drenching didn't bother her. But the tempest that seemed to be brewing was menacing enough for concern. In unison, Brie and Dominic urged their mounts to greater speed to escape the imminent deluge.

  The first pelting drops began when they were still several miles from Greenwood. Brie started to suggest that they seek shelter somewhere, but the words were whipped away by a blast of wind and rain. When she glanced at Dominic, he flashed her a grin that seemed to dare her to cry craven, so she pressed her lips together and rode on through the downpour.

  Her coat was completely soaked through in a matter of minutes. Water sluiced her face and soaked her hair so that it dangled in dripping rats' tails down her back, while icy rivulets found a path down her back, making her shudder.

  She soon forgot her own discomfort, however, as she fought for control of her skittish mount. The bay's footing was none too certain, and he slipped more than once, almost tumbling Brie into the mud.

  They had just slid down a slope into a narrow hollow when lightning suddenly streaked across the sky. The flash startled Jester, making him rear, and the resultant clap of thunder sent him bolting into a frantic gallop.

  That seemed to be the signal for the frenzied sky to unleash its fury. Icy sheets of rain slashed at Brie's face, blinding her as she tried to check her horse's speed. She couldn't see the great stallion racing beside her, but she felt Jester swerve when Dominic reached out to catch hold of his bridle. The bay reared again, just as a strong arm swept Brie from the saddle.

  Brie struggled instinctively against Dominic's hold, but he tightened his grip and managed to set her before him. "Bestill, you little wildcat," he shouted in her ear. "You could never make it home on that beast. We passed a cottage that should provide shelter."

  Brie could only nod in agreement, for an icy blast stole her breath away. When she shivered, Dominic drew the edges of his cloak about her, then wheeled the stallion about.

  The driving rain obscured all but skeletal shapes from view, but they made their way unerringly through the storm. Brie was no longer worried. The great stallion's footing was solid and the arms that held her were strong and secure. When shards of sleet began to sting her cheeks, she turned her face against Dominic's broad chest, grateful for his warmth.

  After what seemed like hours, they came to halt before a small cottage. Brie recognized it, and when Dominic set her down before the door, she lifted the latch without knocking and dashed inside out of the icy rain.

  Dominic was not far behind her. "Not the Royal Palace," he said looking around, "but it will do."

  "It belongs to Bennet Johnson," Brie informed him through chattering teeth. "I had heard he was away visiting his son."

  The cottage was little more than a
hut actually, boasting only one room. The interior was dark, for the shuttered window allowed only the tiniest bit of light to filter through its chinks. Brie could barely identify the few pieces of furniture. At one end was a pitted wooden table and three rickety chairs, and at the other, near the fireplace, was a cupboard that probably contained cooking utensils. A cot rested against the far wall, and in one corner stood a small storage chest.

  It wasn't much of a haven, Brie thought with disappointment; even though it provided protection against the rain, it wasn't much warmer than outside. She could see the curling puffs her breath made as she stood dripping on the wooden floor. Shivering with cold, she wrapped her arms tightly around her.

  Dominic's gaze swept Brie's trembling figure. "See if you can find some blankets and some dry kindling while I take care of the horses," he ordered. "I'll start a fire when I return. And take off those wet garments before you freeze to death."

  When Brie turned to stare at him, he met her look of indignant astonishment with a mixture of tenderness and amusement. "That wasn't a proposition, chérie," he said with a grin. "I prefer a more appropriate setting when I make love to a woman." He was gone before Brie recovered enough to respond.

  She stared at the door, vaguely hearing the hollow sound of rain pounding against the roof. Then giving herself a shake, she groped her way to the window. Throwing back the shutter did little to illuminate the room, however, for the leaded pane was encrusted with grime. Fortunately, there was a tinderbox and two candles on the mantle. She lit them with shaking hands and began to search through the chest.

  She found only one blanket. Tossing it on the cot, she rummaged a bit more and came up with two scraps of rough cloth that could be used for towels. Pleased, Brie turned her attention to the wood box by the hearth. The results were more disappointing. There was only a tiny amount of kindling and one small log with which to make a fire.

  Brie was too cold to wait for Dominic to return, so she piled the kindling carefully in the fireplace and struck a spark. She held her freezing hands over the tiny blaze, but it did little to ease her misery. Her wet clothes still felt like ice against her skin, and her teeth were chattering so badly that even clamping her lips shut didn't help.