Velvet Embrace (34 page)

Brie was taken aback by the malicious gleam in the woman's blue eyes. She murmured a polite reply about having a headache, which brought a cold smile to Lady Denise's lips. "That excuse will serve as well as any, I suppose, even if it is untrue. He is handsome, is he not?"

Not caring at all for the woman's tone, Brie arched an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why Dominic, of course.
Do you not find yourself attracted to him?"

"Whatever makes you think that?"

Denise's smile turned brittle. "Of course you wouldn't care to admit it. But I understand perfectly, my dear. Few
woman
can resist Dominic when he puts himself out to be charming."

"You are mistaken, my lady. I have not found Lord Stanton to be irresistible. In fact, I think him odious and overbearing—" Brie broke off, realizing she was protesting far
to
vehemently. "But I fail to see how it concerns you."

Denise leaned toward Brie, assuming a confidential air. "I am relieved to hear you say that, my dear.
For although Dominic is quite handsome and charming, he sometimes is not very . . . nice in his actions.
Or perhaps honorable would be a better word. I only seek to warn you. Surely you are not offended?"

Brie wanted to tell Lady Grayson to go to the devil, but she bit her tongue instead. "He means nothing to me, I assure you.

"I am extremely glad for you. Alas, it is not the same with me. You see, Dominic and I were once very close. By an unkind twist of fate, we were separated, but I have hopes that—"

"You will not break my heart, Lady Denise," Brie interjected. "Indeed, you have my best wishes."

Having attained her goal, Denise gave a satisfied smile and left Brie to herself. Brie watched her retreat, telling herself firmly that the sharp twinge in her heart was not jealousy. The blond witch was no less than Dominic deserved!

The gentlemen entered the drawing room shortly afterward, accompanied by the faint strains of music as the musicians prepared for their night's work. Inexplicably Brie was piqued when Dominic made no move to approach her, since her hand was solicited for a dance by any number of other gentlemen. His neglect seemed blatantly pronounced after his previous attentions toward her. She tried to ignore her infuriating disappointment, however, and focused instead on seeing that her cousin would be suitably partnered during the evening.

When the remaining guests began to arrive, the company filed into the ballroom, and the orchestra struck up for the first dance. Brie had awarded the set to a tall officer who was a friend of Lady
Scofield's
son. She allowed him to lead her into the cotillion, determined to forget about handsome, dark- haired lords who were too accustomed to having their way with women.

During the next set, however, her glance involuntarily went to the sidelines where Dominic stood with Lady Denise. He was frowning, but she was wearing the contented look of a well-fed cat. Brie wondered what Lady Denise could be saying to him, particularly when Dominic turned to meet her own gaze with narrowed gray eyes. She was glad when the set ended.

Julian claimed her hand for the next dance, and when he turned her over to another
partner,
her eyes once again went to the sidelines. Realizing then that she was unconsciously searching for Dominic, Brie chided herself for being foolish. She gave her new partner a brilliant smile and let him whirl her away.

She would have found Dominic had she looked in one of the smaller salons. After his highly unsatisfactory clash with Denise in the ballroom, he had joined the guests who preferred cards to dancing.

He played aggressively, but not even intense concentration could make him forget his urge to throttle his beautiful blond ex-mistress or their heated exchange of words. Denise had pleaded with him to return to their previous relationship, and when Dominic had firmly refused, she had become vicious. He had responded in kind.

"Come now,
chérie
," he had drawled. "Surely you don't expect me to welcome you with open arms. Your escapades of the past year have been a little too rich, even for my jaded tastes."

The smile froze on Denise's lips, while her blue eyes narrowed.
"My escapades!
Why mine are nothing compared to yours, darling. Or don't you know about the rumors? They say you almost killed that poor Mr.
Germain
. I hear he is faring so poorly that he may yet die. Perhaps it would have been wiser for you to leave England altogether," she added with a smirk.

Her smug expression changed at once when Dominic's fingers closed about her wrist, and she gave a pained gasp. "Dear God, Dominic! You are hurting me. It isn't common knowledge, I swear it. I had it from one of your servants."

Hearing the panic in her voice, Dominic relaxed his grip. "How much did you pay for your information?"

There was steel beneath his silken tone, which Denise recognized. "I didn't bribe anyone, if that's what you are thinking," she answered sullenly. "Your man Farley just is no match for me. How else do you think I discovered that you were in this godforsaken place?"

"And yet you wish to take up with me again, knowing I might not be available to you for long?"

She bit her lip as she slanted a glance up at him. "You know as well as I that the authorities wouldn't move against someone of your rank without positive proof that you intended murder, even if the man were to die. And you are too clever for that, aren't you, darling?"

When he made no reply, Denise let her voice drop to a husky whisper. "I am merely concerned for you, Dominic. You must be lonely without a woman to comfort you. And I don't think you would be foolish enough to pursue her," Denise nodded in Brie's direction. "For one thing if you succeeded in seducing her, you would most certainly have to marry her. I understand she has some high-powered friends, not to mention a family of strait-laced relatives. And what's more, she isn't responding to your charm. That must hurt your pride—you whom most women are mad for. But don't worry, darling. Even though she is made of ice, I am not—as you well know. You might as well take me back," Denise summarized, giving him an arch smile.

Dominic glanced across the room to where the auburn- haired beauty was dancing with a red-coated officer. He met Brie's eyes for a moment, before turning back to Denise and eyeing her with distaste. "Your logic leaves much to be desired, Denise. True, you are warm, beautiful, passionate. . . ." Dominic said in a voice that both thrilled her and made her wary. "But I believe I would prefer a snake's venom to your particular brand of poison. Although I admit a snake would not be nearly so comforting in bed."

"Why you—" Denise exclaimed in a shrill voice, before Dominic put a finger to her lips.

"Hush, my sweet. You are a guest here, remember?"

Denise did lower her voice a fraction. "You would prefer that . . . that frozen bitch to me?" she hissed.

"Careful, Denise.
Who knows, you may be speaking of my future countess."

He had spoken to spite her, but his words had the desired effect: Denise gaped at him in astonishment. Taking advantage of her stunned silence, Dominic led her to a chair and procured a glass of champagne for her, then left her in order to seek out the
cardrooms
. He regretted allowing Denise's waspishness to provoke his temper, but perhaps his savage response had ended any hopes she had of resuming their long-ago affair.

Even without Denise to contend with, however, things were not going at all the way he had planned. Dominic grimaced as he recalled the frustration of the past week. The search he and Jacques had conducted had yielded little results; they had not even come close to apprehending the men they sought.

Nor was his relationship with Brie progressing as he would have liked. He had meant to spend the evening pursuing her and trying to get back in her good graces, but she had been too busy glaring daggers at him to be receptive to any overtures he made. Denise's interference hadn't helped matters, of course, but he had teased and mocked Brie when soft words would far better have served him. Now he would have to exercise every bit of charm he could muster if he wanted her back in his arms. Yet, he meant to attempt it—just as soon as his temper cooled sufficiently.

It was several hours before Dominic returned to the ballroom and spied Brie dancing with the squire's son. She seemed to be having a rough time, for Rupert
Umstead
was weaving through the steps, nearly tripping each time he stepped on her satin slippers.

She managed to extricate herself from her drunken partner when the music ended, but then Dominic stepped directly in the path of her escape. "My dance, mademoiselle?" he said with a conciliatory smile.

Brie looked up at him uncertainly, torn between her smarting pride and a traitorous desire to be held in his arms again. Pride won out. "I think not, my lord," she replied coolly. "I find I am quite fatigued."

"No doubt, after holding that young puppy up half the time. But I promise not to tread on your toes." As the strains of a waltz filled the room, Dominic captured Brie's hand and pulled her, resisting, into his arms. Brie gasped at his audacity, but not wanting to create a spectacle, she capitulated.

She treated Dominic to an icy silence as they whirled around the floor, but she found it difficult to maintain her distance with the music swelling gently around them. They danced together, perfectly in tune.

Against her better judgment, Brie felt herself relaxing in his arms. When she ventured to look up at her tall partner, the dark glitter in Dominic's eyes held her entranced, and she found herself unable to tear her gaze away.

One by one, the other couples seemed to fade away, till only she and Dominic were dancing together in the enormous ballroom. His arm tightened about her waist, drawing her closer, and Brie caught her breath as her breasts brushed the hard wall of his chest. She trembled, watching as his lips came closer and closer. . . .

Fortunately, the music ended. Yet, Dominic continued to stare down at her, his arms locked about her waist. When he made no move to release her, Brie dazedly looked around and saw that the other couples were separating. "M-my lord," she stammered, twisting out of his embrace.

Recollecting himself, Dominic shook his head as he tried to recover his equilibrium. He had been about to kiss Brie in the middle of a crowded ballroom, for Christ's sake! What kind of strange spell had she cast over him?

More shaken by his encounter with this bewitching beauty than he would ever admit, Dominic took refuge in sarcasm. "You seem to be forever running from me," he said acidly.

His derisiveness stemmed more from a desire to protect himself than any wish to hurt her, but it completely shattered the spell for Brie. She stared up at him for a long moment. Then feeling tears sting her eyes, she turned and fled.

Dominic let her go. He had not meant to snap at her like that, but to pursue her now in order to apologize would only exacerbate the situation and perhaps cause a scandal as well. He would have to give her time to recover before he tried to make amends.

Brie threaded her way blindly through the crowd, wanting to escape the oppressive heat and noise of the ballroom. When a waiter passed bearing a tray of champagne, she seized a glass and drank its contents in one long draught, but it did little to calm her agitation. Seeing that one of the French windows had been thrown open to combat the heat of the chandeliers, Brie slipped through the doors and found herself out on the terrace.