Velvet Embrace

by Nicole Jordan

  "Did they hurt you?" She recognized the familiar voice—and tone. It was clipped and harsh and implacable. Brie shook her head, not daring to look at her rescuer.

  "Then I suggest," Dominic said caustically, "that unless you enjoy being ravished, you seek safer ground. Where is your horse?" At Brie's mumbled reply, Dominic barked the question again.

  "I don't know!" she cried, tears coursing down her cheeks as she glared up at him. He sat his horse easily, his whip resting across the saddle. Seeing his casual pose, Brie wanted to scream. She was shaking with fright, her pride was in tatters, and her nerves were frayed almost to the breaking point—and all he could do was berate her in that hateful, sardonic tone. At that moment she firmly believed she hated Dominic. It was bad enough that he should find her such a defenseless position, but his contemptuous tone made her humiliation complete. She bowed her head and started crying in earnest.

  Dominic muttered a soft curse as he dismounted and scooped her trembling form into his arms. He ignored her halfhearted struggles, easily thwarting her attempts to break free, and when she at last lay still, he set her on his horse and mounted behind her, wrapping an arm securely around her waist. Brie sagged limply against him and wept, having lost the strength and the will to fight him further.

  As they made their way through the dark streets, Dominic found himself wishing he had done more to the men who had attacked her than to have administered a mere beating. Brie's quiet sobs tore at his heart. She was trembling uncontrollably as well, and the feel of her soft body made him recall other times when he had held her in his arms—when she had trembled with passion.

  Unable to dispel the disquieting emotions that were warring in his chest, Dominic swore silently. He ought to beat Brie for causing him such anguish. He had hoped his harsh words to her in the carriage would send her scurrying home, but obviously she hadn't listened. Thank God he had told Jacques to keep an eye out for her! Jacques had seen her leaving the inn and followed her to the docks where Dominic was giving his final orders to the captain of his yacht. Dominic had forgotten his anger, had forgotten that Brie might very well have plotted to murder him, and had ridden after her.

  Christ, but he had been given a fright when he had seen her struggling against those four ruffians! He had wanted to kill the bastards with his bare hands. And it didn't seem illogical that while he might like to wring her neck himself, he would permit no one else to harm her.

  "Foolish girl," Dominic murmured as he brushed his lips against her hair. The gentle fragrance aroused his senses, and he couldn't refrain from turning Brie's face up to him. He kissed her soft lips, determined to comfort her and drive away her fear. When Brie clung to him in response, Dominic could feel her desperate need for reassurance. Tenderness welled in his heart, while a fierce wave of protectiveness surged through him.

  Only when they arrived at the inn could he bring himself to pull away. "Come, my sweet," he whispered huskily. "We are causing a spectacle." Brie nodded, but she was too exhausted to care about the gawking stares and grins they drew from the ostlers in the yard.

  Dominic hid her face from view as he brushed passed the astonished innkeeper and carried her up to his room. Laying Brie gently on the bed, he quickly divested her of her clothes, leaving her slender body clad only in her shirt which barely covered her hips. He carefully tucked the covers around her, then stood back. Hearing the even sounds of her breathing, Dominic smiled in spite of himself. Brie was already fast asleep. He let himself out of the room quietly.

  When he joined Jason in the private dining room, he found two serving maids occupied in laying out a sumptuous meal. Ignoring both their appraising glances and the more subtle scrutiny of his friend, Dominic poured himself a generous glass of claret and drank deeply, and only when the maidservants had left did he take his seat at the table. Absently, he began serving his plate, his mind still on the sleeping woman in his bed.

  It was several minutes later before he realized Jason had spoken. "I beg your pardon," Dominic said, looking up from his food. "What did you say?"

  Jason smiled wryly. "I asked you twice if your ship will be ready to sail in the morning."

  "Yes, with the tide. I found everything in order. Captain Rogers assures me that the weather will be fair and that we can expect an easy crossing." He lapsed into silence once more, frowning as he tried to decide what in hell's name he was to do with Brie.

  Jason, too, was silent, but he studied Dominic curiously throughout the meal.

  Dominic finally looked up to find himself being watched. "Is something wrong? Did I spill the gravy on my neckcloth?" he asked sarcastically.

  "No," Jason replied, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of wine. "I was merely wondering at the cause of your bad manners. All day you've been as moody as the Caribbean during a hurricane season, and you've spoken a mere three sentences all during dinner. And you've hardly touched your food. Your obvious preoccupation wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you've finally let a woman get to you, would it?"

  It seemed to Dominic that the room had suddenly become overly quiet, for his sharp intake of breath was clearly audible. He hadn't been prepared to hear the truth stated so blandly.

  He wasn't about to admit to such a weakness, though. He forced himself to release the air in his lungs slowly. "Of course not," he returned, sounding more irritable than he had intended.

  Jason grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Then how do you explain your churlish behavior this evening?"

  Dominic ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, knowing he hadn't fooled Jason any more than he had fooled himself. He had allowed himself to become far too involved with that enticing, lovely schemer. But blister it, what red-blooded man wouldn't be attracted to a beauty like Brie Carringdon? Yet he had let his attraction for her threaten his friendships with men he had liked and respected for years. Because of Brie, he had nearly become embroiled in a duel with Julian and now he was taking his ill-temper out on Jason.

  "Well, you're right on one account," he said curtly, skirting the issue. "I had no cause to bark at you. I apologize."

  Jason's grin widened. After draining his glass, he stood up. "You know what they say, the hardest hearts take the hardest falls. If you ask me, you have fallen."

  "I didn't ask you," Dominic returned grimly.

  "You should have. I can see it, even if you can't. You, my good friend, are in love."

  "No!" His vehemence was accentuated by shattering glass as he swept out an arm and sent his wine goblet flying half the length of the table. He stared morosely at the red stain spreading across the white tablecloth, not willing to face such an impossible dilemma. He couldn't explain the tender feelings he had for Brie, but it wasn't love. It couldn't be.

  "There, you see?" Jason said, chuckling. "Why else would a man of otherwise reasonably sound mind behave so violently? Good night, Dominic. Sleep well—if you can."

  Having had more than enough of Jason's provoking good humor, Dominic raised his gaze to glare fiercely. "Get out, Jason," he said through clenched teeth. "Get out, before I decide to turn my unreasonable violence on you!"

  It was nearly midnight when Brie was awakened by the crash of a slamming door. Startled, she sat up, her eyes anxiously searching the darkness of the unfamiliar room. Her heart leapt wildly when she spied Dominic leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. His face was in the shadow, and the beginnings of a beard on his jaw made him look harsh and dangerous.

  Involuntarily, her hand crept to her throat. "You . . . you frightened me," she said hoarsely. Then she caught sight of the empty bottle in his hand and her gaze narrowed in suspicion. "What are you doing here, my lord? I demand you leave this room at once."

  Dominic's lips curved in a slow smile. "You demand? But my lady, this is my room, and you are in my bed."

  "You are drunk!"

  Unsteadily, Dominic bowed. "Yes, my sweet. Drunk with desire for you." He sauntered into the room, keeping
his eyes trained on her face.

  Brie was more than a little frightened by the feverish glitter in his gaze. As he came nearer, she shrank from him, nervously pulling the covers up to her chin as if for protection. But he didn't touch her. He carefully deposited his bottle on the bedside table. Then giving Brie a casual glance, he began to undress.

  "What . . . what do you think you're doing?" Brie asked falteringly, already guessing his intent.

  "I, my lovely vixen, plan to collect the payment that is due me. Did I not save you from ravishment this evening?"

  "To what purpose? So you could rape me yourself?"

  He lifted an eyebrow. "I told you once before—for rape you must be unwilling."

  "Well, you won't find me willing!"

  Dominic merely shrugged and sent her a leering grin. Moving to the foot of the bed, he tossed his coat and waistcoat over the back of a chair.

  Brie remained where she was, staring as Dominic unwound his cravat and removed his shirt. But when he was naked to the waist, she scrambled to her knees. Sweeping up the empty bottle, she brandished it threateningly. "I'll be damned if I will let you touch me, you . . . you drunken libertine!"

  Dominic laughed harshly as he sprawled in the chair and began to struggle with his boots. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Besides, it's not as if your virgin honor were at stake."

  His reactions obviously had not been dulled by the amount of wine he had drunk, for he was able to dodge the bottle that came flying across the room. It missed his head by inches and shattered on the floor.

  Dominic glanced at the broken glass, then back at Brie, his eyes narrowing. "That was a mistake, chérie," he said softly. With menacing slowness, he finished pulling off his boots, then stood to remove his breeches.

  Brie could only stare at him, suddenly feeling faint. She had experienced this same, nightmarish scene before: a strange inn, a darkened bedroom, a powerful ruthless man who was determined to use her body for his own purposes. She had escaped then, but she knew with certainty the ending this time would be far different. Her fear returned now in full force, threatening to choke her.

  She was responding only to the primitive instinct for flight when she bounded from the bed. She raced for the door, having no thought in mind other than escape, but Dominic was faster.

  Brie yelped in pain as his hand shot out to catch her hair, and her cry became one of fright as he spun her around. Dominic curled his fingers over the collar of her shirt, and with a single swift motion, rent the garment from the neck down, exposing her slender body to his gaze.

  For a moment Brie was too shocked even to scream. She could see the sudden flare of lust in his eyes as they fixed hungrily on the pale globes of her breasts. Panic filled her, and she struck at him blindly, trying to pummel his chest with her fists.

  Her feeble efforts were no match for his strength. His arm went around her waist, jerking her to him, while his other hand stripped the shirt from her body and flung it aside. Then, with one fluid motion, Dominic picked Brie up and threw her upon the bed. Before she could scramble away, he fell on her, grasping her wrists and pinning her arms beneath her, rendering her struggles useless. Brie was terrified to feel his hard body, pressing her down. Half swooning, she thrashed her head slowly from side to side, whimpering.

  Hearing the pitiful sounds, Dominic realized he had gone too far. The violent rage that had momentarily gripped him drained away. Looking down at Brie, seeing her pale face and wildly tangled hair and feeling the shudders of fear that racked her body, he swore under his breath. He couldn't take her with force, no matter how satisfactory a revenge it would be.

  "Hush, chérie," he murmured soothingly. "I won't hurt you." He lay completely still, moving only his lips as he whispered gentle, meaningless words in her ear. When she quieted, he began to press light kisses against her throat, nuzzling her soft, fragrant skin.

  It was a long moment before Brie realized she felt no pain. When Dominic raised his head, brushing a tousled curl back from her face, she opened her fear-darkened eyes. His gentleness bewildered her, but as she met Dominic's triumphant gaze, she suddenly understood what he had intended. He had meant to make her cower in fright. He had meant to reduce her to a quivering mass of jelly.

  Immediately Brie's fear dissolved, to be replaced by a heated fury that flashed in her eyes. She glared up at him, her breasts rising and falling with rage. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

  "Ah, the fire is back," he taunted, his own voice husky with desire.

  "Damn you to hell, Dominic! Why don't you get it over with and be done?"

  "My, aren't you an impatient one?" Shifting his weight slightly, Dominic very deliberately, very slowly, began to stroke her body with his hand. "I am waiting, my little wildcat, for you to say you want me."

  She stared in shock. His punishment, his revenge, was not complete. Dominic meant to humiliate her further by making her admit her desire.

  "Never!" Brie cried, starting to struggle again. But her words of protest were cut off as he covered her mouth with his own.

  Ignoring her struggles, he parted her lips with an ease that shamed her. His thrusting tongue probed the depths of her resistance—insistent, demanding—while his fingers continued the slow, insolent exploration of her body.

  Brie held herself rigid, willing herself not to respond, but she could feel every muscle, every nerve ending in her body growing taut with desire. And when Dominic began to stroke her breasts, lingering over each nipple until it throbbed, she realized her body was responding to his arousing caresses, despite all her efforts.

  Brie quivered with mortification, knowing it was only a matter of time before she gave in to him. Already his passionate kisses were drugging her senses, conquering her will. . . .

  His lips left hers then, moving lower, playing a sensuous melody on her skin, pausing to torment the tips of her breasts. Brie shivered as the stubble on hi« jaw rasped against the sensitive flesh. When his mouth closed over a hardened nipple, she couldn't prevent a gasp of pleasure. She let her head fall back, no longer wanting to stop him. She could feel his roaming hand caressing her thighs, and when he urged them apart, his fingers stroking and exploring, she opened to him in surrender. She no longer cared about her vanquished pride. She was aware of nothing but her intense need for Dominic, of the hot ache in her body that only he could ease.

  Only vaguely did she realize when Dominic shifted his position to kneel between her parted legs. He lowered his head once more, pressing featherlight kisses over her smooth abdomen and lower, at the junction of her thighs. Brie jumped in shock when his lips began to nuzzle the soft curls that hid her womanhood, but Dominic's hands gripped her hips, raising her off the bed and forcing her to remain still. His tongue claimed her then, turning what had been mindless fear into mindless pleasure.

  His tongue lapped and swirled and stoked and teased, delving into her, making Brie writhe and gasp for breath. Her fingers tangled in the dark waves of his hair, demanding a release from the exquisite torment. But Dominic taunted her to the brink of ecstasy—only to leave her dangling there helplessly.

  When he lifted his head to stare down at her flushed face, his eyes were almost black with the force of his emotions. "Say it, my passionate beauty," Dominic demanded. "Say you want me."

  "Yes," Brie moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. "Oh, yes! Please, Dominic . . . please. . . ."

  He gave a triumphant, gutteral laugh before he took her, plunging into her, swiftly, forcefully. Brie gasped at his deep penetration, but in only a moment she was sobbing with pleasure. His loins were hard and thrusting, filling her, making her forget everything but her own mounting passion.

  He drove into her with savage force, needing to control, to possess, to conquer, but Brie wanted his possession. She clasped him fiercely to her, digging her fingers into the flexing, iron-hewed muscles of his shoulders. When he gave a final explosive thrust, she arched against him, yielding him the final vict
ory as he swiftly brought her to a shattering climax. Dominic's own release came at the same instant. His body shuddered convulsively as he held himself, shaking, inside her.

  When it was over, when their breaths no longer came in ragged gasps, Dominic slowly rolled off her. Brie shivered as the night air caressed her sweat-dampened skin, but she didn't move. She merely lay there with her eyes closed, not wanting to face the significance of what had happened.

  He had conquered her completely. Dominic had skillfully sharpened her desire to a razor's edge, until she had pleaded for him to take her. He had bent her to his will, demonstrating his contempt by making her beg for his touch.

  Feeling hot tears sting her eyes, Brie turned away, clutching her arms to her stomach in a gesture of protectiveness, as if she could ease the pain that sliced through her heart.

  Dominic lay beside her, listening to her muted sobs and staring at the ceiling. He was completely sober now—and he felt like a complete cad. But he should have been pleased, he reminded himself savagely. He had succeeded in doing precisely what he had intended. He had wanted to frighten Brie, had wanted to hurt her as well as hold her and make her cry out with passion. But proving his mastery over her body hadn't made him feel any better. And he was still no closer to resolving this damnable situation. He still didn't know if he could trust her.

  Swearing in self-disgust, Dominic turned his head to look at her. She was curled on her side, her back to him, but he could see her shoulders shaking. Involuntarily, he reached out a hand to comfort her—but he drew it back almost instantly, knowing if he took her in his arms, he would never be able to crush the tenderness he had begun to feel for her.

  He had tried to deny its existence entirely. God knows, he had tried. Sometime during the long evening, while he was purposefully drinking himself into oblivion, he had even hit upon the madly insane idea that he could exorcise the hold Brie had over him by taking her body again.

  But it hadn't worked, Dominic thought grimly, realizing his desire for her hadn't diminished in the least. The hell of it was that it hadn't worked.