Velvet Embrace (31 page)

For a moment, she stood looking up at him, mesmerized by the burning intensity of his gaze. When he turned her hand over, gently pressing his warm mouth against the inside of her wrist, she quivered. The touch
of
his lips made her vividly recall the last time he held her in his arms.

She could
teil
by the glowing flame in his eyes that Dominic was remembering, too.
His gaze slid
downward, stripping
her
bare of clothing, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. When he said her name
softly,
his voice dropping to a caress, Brie's heart began
to race, for a
fleeting moment, she allowed herself to recall what it was like
to
experience Dominic's
total
passion, to have his
warm
lips following the searing
trail that
his eyes made, for his
mouth to
linger hotly on her breasts while his hands slowly swept lower to torment her body—

Brie gave an abrupt
start
at
the
disquieting fantasies
going
through her head. Realizing that Dominic was still holding her hand, she drew it from
his
grasp. "Apply . . . apply to men?" she repeated, trying unsuccessfully to keep her tone light. "You couldn't
be
speaking
of
yourself, my lord. You must know I wouldn't dare presume
to
challenge you."

Dominic hesitated for a moment, as if he might press for a different response. Then he sighed, his mouth twisting wryly. "I know nothing of the kind,
chérie
. You have challenged me on several occasions, if I recall. But I promised not to speak of the past."

Turning away, he threw his greatcoat over his shoulders, then picked up his gloves and hat and crossed to the door. "Until tomorrow, then?" he said, giving Brie one of those devastatingly sweet smiles that never failed to make her heart turn over.

Brie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as the door shut softly behind him,
then
stood there, listening to Dominic's retreating footsteps. When he was gone, Brie sank into the empty chair, feeling unaccountably weak. Hugging her sable muff to her stomach, she rested her forehead on her knees.

The words had remained unspoken, but Dominic had made it explicitly clear that he still wanted her. And now she could no longer deny that she wanted him, too. The attraction she felt for him was too strong to dismiss. His virile masculinity was like a powerful magnet, drawing her to him. Whenever he touched her, she felt
a treacherous
warmth steal over her.

At least he hadn't kissed her this time. Usually he wound up doing that and more. But the look he had given her. . . . Brie trembled, recalling the flame in his eyes. It had made her feel so . . . so desirable, so completely a woman. He had aroused a physical yearning within her
ihat
was almost tangible.

A
soft moan escaped Brie's lips as she buried her face into the thick sable of her muff. Dominic
Serrault
was a man she hardly knew, a man who had frightened and taunted her. And yet, he had easily stripped away her defenses, exposing a passion she had thought deeply buried.

Faith, she must be mad! She had learned from her disastrous experience six years ago that she was far too gullible where men were concerned. She had given her heart too easily then, and now she was in danger of succumbing again to the determined seduction of an expert. She couldn't even delude herself that Dominic was interested in anything but her body. There had been nothing more than desire in his eyes. She was the target for his lust, nothing more.

Absently, Brie rubbed her cheek against the sable. The rich fur felt like cool satin against her flushed skin, and she could detect a lingering trace of Dominic's masculine scent.

She could not yield to him, of course. She would be too likely to give in to him completely, and that hard, cynical man would not want her heart.

Brie closed her eyes, wondering why the thought should make her so very miserable.

She slept fitfully that night, dreaming of being chased by a devil on a great black horse. A strange white field surrounded her, and no matter how hard she ran, she couldn't reach the edge. Just as the specter caught her, the nightmarish image changed and she recognized Dominic's dark features. He gave
her a mocking smile,
then
swept her into his strong arms
and
kissed her ruthlessly.
When
she tried to fight him, his harsh laughter filled her ears. . . .

Brie woke with
a start. For a
moment she lay there, listening to the fading echoes
and trying
to control her trembling.
She
had obviously been
in the
throes of a nightmare, for
the
bedclothes were
entangled with
her bare legs
and her
nightgown had
ridden up above
her
hips.
And
she
felt so
very
strange. A thin film
of perspiration
covered her body, but
her
skin was feverish,
while her
breasts felt full and
ultrasensitive.
There was also
a hot ache between her thighs that throbbed
with a sort of pleasurable
pain.

Shakily, Brie pulled
the covers
up
to
her chin and lay
there
staring at the darkness.
If
was a
long while before the tension in her body unwound and
she at last
fell asleep.

When next she
awakened, light
was filtering through
her
bedroom curtains and
someone
was tapping on her door.
When
Caroline
's
maid
peered into the room,
Brie suddenly
realized
the lateness
of
the
hour. She rose
at once, not wanting to
miss
any part of the
fox hunt.

She washed
while her riding
habit
was
being
laid
out,
then
allowed the
maid
to
arrange her hair into
a smooth knot
at her
nape. When she
was dressed, Brie gave
herself a final glance in the mirror.
She
was
pleased to see her eyes
didn't have the
deep
circles under
them she had expected.
In fact, she thought she looked quite well. The
severely
tailored jacket and flowing
skirt
of emerald green velvet
hugged her
figure, accentuating
the
curve of her waist,
while her shako hat
of the same shade set
off
the glowing
color
of
hair. Not even
Stanton would be
able
to criticize her attire,
Brie thought defiantly.