Midnight Masqerade

by Shirlee Busbee

  The next hour or so they were busy settling into their new home. Preoccupied by the visions of physical delights that were soon to be his, Dominic voiced no objection when, after a light repast served in the dining room by one of the several new servants he had engaged, Melissa disappeared upstairs to her bedroom. A lazy smile on his mouth, he lingered over his brandy, imagining his bride undressing and donning some flimsy apparel for his delection. Increasingly aware of the insistent demands of his body, after several moments he set down his brandy snifter and left the dining room.

  In his bedroom, he hurriedly stripped out of his wedding finery, and after a hasty rinse in the tepid water left in a china bowl on a blue marble washstand, he shrugged into his dressing gown, which had been laid out by his manservant, Bartholomew. His heart beginning to beat faster in anticipation of what was to come, he swiftly crossed the tiny dressing room that separated their bedrooms. With fingers that shook slightly, he grasped the crystal doorknob and opened the door.

  He'd furnished Melissa's chamber with her in mind, and he was understandably pleased with the results. The room was large, and the soft yellow and pale lavender colors that he had selected gave it an inviting warmth. A satinwood armoire and a delicate dressing table of rosewood had been introduced into the room, as well as two pretty chairs covered in willow-green silk. The bed he had finally chosen did not have the sumptuous decadence of the one he hoped would be waiting for them at Thousand Oaks, but he was not displeased with it. The canopy was a graceful swathe of gauzy material which gave the tall, carved posts an airy look, the gleam of the deep lavender coverlet hazily glimpsed through the misty folds of the gossamer curtains that draped all four corners of the bed. Seeing that his bride was not waiting for him in the bed, Dominic scanned the room for sight of her, his gaze finally finding her where she stood by one of the long, narrow windows which lined one wall of the room.

  Melissa had not been idle in the time since she had left her husband in the dining room. Suspecting that Dominic would linger over his brandy, she had indulged in the refreshing bath which had been waiting for her and had even succumbed to trying one of the many containers of powder that Dominic had bought for her use. Liberally dusting herself with a sandalwood-scented powder, she then began to prepare for bed . . . and Dominic. Scandalizing the proper and efficient maid, Anna, whom Dominic had hired for her, Melissa had dismissed the young woman, stating quite firmly that for tonight, at least, she had no desire or need for Anna's services. Once Anna had gone, Melissa had wasted a few minutes searching for the trunk which held the meager items she had brought with her from Willowglen. Finding it at the back of the armoire, she had dragged it out and with relish she began to properly prepare for her wedding night, wishing with a pang that she had not been tempted by the bath and the powder-smooth, silken skin, enticingly scented, was not what she had in mind for Dominic tonight!

  Precisely what she planned to do she didn't really know; she only hoped to somehow keep a barrier between them. To tamely accept his presence in her bed and in her arms would be to acknowledge defeat, to admit for all time that she was his property and that her purpose from this day forth would be merely to serve him. Her spirit rebelled against such an idea and her mouth tightened into a stubborn line. No matter what ultimately transpired tonight, she must salvage something for pride's sake.

  She had few illusions about her ability to withstand indefinitely Dominic's sensuous appeal to her senses. After Shirlee Buabee all, wasn't it that same inability to resist him that had gotten her into this situation in the first place? If she'd been made of sterner stuff, wouldn't she have slapped his face and pushed him away the instant he had touched her in his room at the tavern? Remembering the way she had melted beneath his kisses, she grimaced. The really damnable thing, she thought glumly, was that she had no indication which way her treacherous body would react tonight.

  Her defenses were frail, and the most she could hope for was a postponement of the inevitable, for if Dominic touched her, if he took her into his arms and kissed her and awoke that sweet fire she had experienced only in his arms ... She sighed gloomily. No matter how she protested to the contrary, she was dismally aware that her wretched body would probably betray all her plans, and she was desperate to prevent that from happening.

  The effect upon Dominic when he entered the room and saw the results of her ministrations was everything that Melissa could have wished for, and for one moment she was certain that he would erupt into fury-which, of course, would give her the excuse she needed to create a disagreement of epic proportions. The moment his eyes found her, the lazy smile that had curved his mobile mouth was instantly wiped clear and the warm light in his gray eyes vanished. He looked, Melissa thought with satisfaction, exceedingly displeased.

  Her heart pounding with a queer excitement, she waited breathlessly for the explosion of wrath she was certain would now occur. She wanted him to be angry, because then it would be so much simpler for her to be angry too; but to her consternation, a slow smile, of sheer appreciation suddenly spread across his face, and with a thread of amusement in his voice, he drawled, "Miss Melissa Seymour, I presume?"

  It was indeed the sour-faced, prim and spinsterish Melissa Seymour of his first meeting with her at Willowglen who faced him across the short distance of the room. Staring at her, knowing now what lay behind the disguise, he wondered how he had ever been taken in so easily. Even with her hair pulled back into that ridiculously unattractive bun, the fragile beauty of her face would have been obvious to anyone who knew her. Naturally the fierce scowl she was bestowing upon him made that beauty a trifle harder to see, but still to him, at least, she looked utterly adorable. He was going to take great enjoyment in discovering, layer by layer, the loveliness and the warm, yielding body he knew lay beneath this absurd disguise.

  At his expression of amusement, Melissa felt a tremor of pure fright skid down her spine. Oh, dear! she thought distractedly, her eyes helplessly caught by Dominic's dark, compelling features, this isn't going to work! She made a game attempt to press on. Ruthlessly tearing her eyes from his faintly curved mouth, she put on her haughtiest air and said frostily, "You know very well what my first name is! And since we were just married this afternoon, you are perfectly aware that I am now Mrs. Melissa Slade!"

  Not the least put off by the haughty tilt of her gently rounded chin or by the icy tone in her voice, Dominic gave her slender body a long, thorough appraisal, his gaze lingering on the rise and fall of her bosom. Purposefully he began to close the distance which separated them. "How could I forget," he murmured huskily, "when I've thought of little else for the past several hours."

  Melissa's pulse gave a funny little leap at his words, and a feeling of breathless anticipation slowly eddied through her. She knew she should do something, that she should move or speak, do anything but stand there frozen in one spot, staring at him as if mesmerized by his steady approach. Against her will her eyes clung to him, skimming over the unruly black hair which persisted in waving near his temples. Deliberately she avoided meeting the stare of those long-lashed gray eyes, her wandering look sliding down the length of his regal nose and remaining for a breathless moment on the wide, full-lipped mouth. Unwillingly she remembered the taste and texture of that warm, exciting mouth, remembered the heat of it, remembered the slight abrasiveness of his tongue as he had kissed her deeply that night in the tavern....

  Only when he stopped directly in front of her was Melissa able to gain some remnant of control over her unruly thoughts, and it was then that she realized belatedly that she had chosen her site of confrontation badly-she should have stood in the middle of the room, where she would have had easy maneuverability. As it was, her back was pressed against the wall and Dominic was planted squarely in front of her, cutting off all avenues of escape, standing so close to her in fact that the lapels of his dressing gown nearly touched her breasts. Vexedly she bit her lip and glanced away, unwilling to see the triumph she was certain would be on his
face.

  "Shy, Melissa?" he asked softly, the faint breath from his mouth brushing against her cheek.

  "Of course not!" she maintained stoutly, sending him a freezing glare.

  "I'm pleased," he replied lightly, "that you are not shy. Seducing virgins has never been to my taste, and as for bedding a shy virgin . . . " A rueful gleam appeared in the gray eyes. "Bedding a shy virgin might very well tax even my ingenuity!"

  In confused astonishment Melissa stared at him, only vaguely aware that he had placed a hand on either side of her head, very aware of the heat and power that radiated from Dominic's deceptively relaxed body. "Since virgins aren't to your taste," she began recklessly, "perhaps we shall simply dispense with consummating our marriage!"

  With a frankly sensuous curve to his mouth, Dominic shook his dark head. "No," he said bluntly. "The thought of being your first lover, of simply being your lover, has kept me awake for far too many nights. Now that there are no longer any impediments to that taking place, I shall not deny myself. . . ."

  Chapter Fourteen

  HER MOUTH suddenly dry, the blood in her veins thudding violently through her body, Melissa watched dumbly as Dominic slowly lowered his head, the slight brush of his lips against hers sending a jolt of feverish excitement down her spine. Ignoring the eager response of her body, she deliberately turned her head aside, breaking the contact of their mouths. In a stifled tone, she asked, "Suppose I don't want you to be my lover?"

  She wouldn't look at him, finding it far easier to concentrate without his handsome features blocking out every other sight fromo her gaze. But his lips were still faintly touching her cheek, and she felt rather than saw the smile that curved his mouth. His breath, warm and brandyscented, wafted against her skin as he said softly, "Oh, you will, sweetheart, by the time I'm finished with you."

  Melissa tried very hard to be insulted by the confidence in his voice, but mingled with her feelings of insult was a giddy sensation of anticipation. Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, she risked a glance at him and then wished she hadn't-the teasing expression in his gray eyes increasing her agitation. Desperate to break the spell that he was so effortlessly weaving about them, she said breathlessly, "That's arrogant of you!"

  "Mmm, it might seem so, but you forget that I've kissed you and held you in my arms before-on at least two occasions that I can recall quite vividly-and you didn't seem averse to my advances then," he commented dryly.

  "It was d-d-different then," she stammered helplessly. "We w-w-weren't m-m-married!"

  A gleam of amusement lit the gray eyes. "I see," he said slowly. "You only welcome my embraces when we aren't married?"

  "That wasn't what I meant and you know it!" she exclaimed.

  "Then precisely what do you mean, sweetheart?" he asked dulcetly.

  Melissa took a deep breath and began earnestly, "I mean that we didn't really want to marry each other and that ... that . . . " She hesitated, then ended in a rush, "And that consummating our marriage right now would be a mistake. "

  Some of his amusement vanishing, Dominic asked idly, "And when do you propose we do consummate our marriage? "

  Feeling a bit more confident, she said airily, "Oh, perhaps in a few weeks, after we know each other better."

  Dominic snorted. "I'm willing to indulge you in several areas, my dear, but since it was our mutual desire for each other that put us in this position in the first place, I have no intention of denying myself my connubial rights."

  Her heart gave an uncomfortable leap within her breast, but assuming a martyred expression, Melissa said dramatically, "Since you feel that way, there is nothing I can do to stop you from having your way with me." She sighed heavily. "I shall just have to dutifully endure your presence in my bed."

  She was prepared for some sort of reaction from him, either anger, disgust or disappointment, but to her astonishment, he merely chuckled. "Very well," he said calmly. "You have warned me, and since you have no intention of joining me in this endeavor, I shall just have to please myself." Before she realized his intent, he had reached out and whisked away her spectacles. A satisfied smile on his handsome face, he stared down into her widened eyes. "Getting rid of your ridiculous disguise will be only the first of many pleasures that I plan on enjoying."

  He glanced at the offending spectacles and then, as Melissa watched transfixed, he opened the window near where they stood and with one powerful movement flung the spectacles far out into the darkness. "There," he said smoothly. "That was one thing I've wanted to do for a long time." He looked at her, the narrowing of his gaze causing her breath to suddenly constrict in her chest. "And now," he said slowly, "for the rest of it."

  Like a frightened doe confronted by a dark predator, Melissa attempted a frantic leap away from him, but his hands caught her slender shoulders and with an infuriating economy of effort, he brought her struggling form up next to his hard body. Laughter in his voice, he murmured, "Remember, you are supposed to dutifully endure, my dear, not fight me."

  Furious and, to her mortification, excited, Melissa glared up at him, unbearably conscious of his warm, hard length pressed so intimately against her. Quelling the treacherous response of her body to his nearness, she said angrily, "How dare you destroy my spectacles!" And when he remained unmoved, only grinning down at her with that thoroughly disgusting satisfied expression on his face, she added, "I need them!"

  He shook his head. "Not for what I have in mind," he murmured softly, one hand already traveling upward to pluck the pins from her hair. Despite Melissa's best attempts to avoid his exploring fingers, in a matter of moments her tawny hair was tumbling wildly about her shoulders, the ugly bun ruined. Both hands once again on her shoulders, Dominic surveyed his handiwork, noting with pleasure the flushed features that she raised to him, her freed hair curling like golden silk near her cheeks, her rosy mouth full and tempting just below his and the ambergold eyes dark with some indefinable emotion. Fear? Desire? Anger? He didn't know and at this moment he didn't care; the movements of her body against his as she had sought to escape had made him compellingly aware of the demands of his own body. Unable to resist the sweet lure of those lips, Dominic gave a low groan and found her mouth with his. Hungrily he kissed her, surrendering himself to the driving, primitive emotions that suddenly flooded through him at the touch of his lips against hers. He wanted to tease her, taste her, explore her slowly, but he found that he could not, that she was too tempting, too intoxicating for him to think clearly, and he urgently deep ened the kiss, forcing her lips to part for him, boldly invading her mouth.

  Trapped as much by the restraining hands on her shoulders as by her own wayward body, Melissa trembled from the force of the emotions that racked her as Dominic's warm, questing tongue filled her mouth, the velvet length of it stroking seductively against her own tongue, blatantly inviting her to follow suit. Her head swimming, a curiously weak feeling creeping through her very bones, she swayed nearer to him, unconsciously offering herself to him, her lips helplessly parting even further before his demanding kiss.

  Greedily he took what she bestowed, his lips hardening, his tongue moving feverishly within her mouth, arousing her, making her unbearably aware of the reckless desire that curled and eddied deep within her. She was powerless in his embrace, unable to even conceive of the idea of resisting him, her thoughts becoming increasingly fuzzy and indistinct, until the only thing that she was aware of was Dominic, the passionate enchantment his mouth was wrecking upon her, the wanton desires that were clamoring in her veins.

  She had thought that there could be nothing more thrilling than his kiss, but when his hands dropped to her slender hips and he pulled her hard against him, making her intensely conscious of the heat and size of his swollen manhood beneath his silk robe, she realized that she had been wrong. She was swamped by a heady sensation of delight, of sweet power to know that she had brought him to this state, to know at this moment that it was her body he desired. But that satisfying thought disappea
red almost the instant it occurred-his hands had found the fastenings at the nape of her neck, and with a sudden lurch of her heart, she felt her gown slipping away from her.

  Shaken at how easily she had allowed herself to nearly be seduced, she jerked her mouth from his and jammed her arm between their locked bodies. Half angrily, half pleadingly, she got out, "Oh, stop it! Please!"

  Through half-shuttered eyes, Dominic gazed down at her, the expression on his dark features hard to discern. Does she realize the impossibility of what she is asking?

  he wondered helplessly. He ached to the very marrow of his bones with wanting her; she was his wife; this was their wedding night, and she wanted him to stop? He shook his head slightly and muttered, "I cannot. I want you ... willing or not." His gaze dropped to the creamy shoulders and the slight swell of her breasts that his seeking hands had revealed, and he knew an urge to touch those same places with his mouth, to rip the concealing, offending garment from her body, to have all the secrets of her flesh laid bare before him. With a concentrated effort, he raised his eyes from temptation, but his gaze lingered for a long second on the faintly bruised fullness of her mouth. His eyes on hers, he finally said, "Melissa, whatever the reasons for our marriage, we are married-we will be man and wife for the rest of our days. I didn't want this marriage-I never thought to marry at all-but since, through my own folly and a certain amount of encouragement from you, we found ourselves forced to comply with tradition, I fully intend to make it a real marriage." He grinned ruefully. "It's odd, but while I envisioned our marriage to be filled with all sorts of difficulties, I never counted bedding you among them. That, " he concluded wryly, "was the one and only place I assumed we would have no trouble."