Captive Bride Read online

  A wary frown puckered Rozalyn's brow as this lion of a man strode up beside her. He had an ornery look about him, a twinkle in his emerald eyes that most likely spelled trouble.

  "Why are you grinning at me like that?" she demanded to know.

  "Like what?" His devilish thoughts were suddenly masked behind a mock-innocent stare.

  "You know very well what I mean." Rozalyn sniffed. Warily, she sized up the powerfully built rogue who stood more than a head taller than her five foot-two-inch frame. "I don't know what you are thinking, but let me assure you that I will not tolerate—"

  Dominic clamped his lean fingers around her elbow and herded her toward the door. "Come, my love. It is impolite to keep our elders waiting. I do wish to make a good impression on my future grandmother-in-law." He leaned close to Rozalyn as he opened the door, and when he drew her around in front of him, his moist breath skimmed her ear. "I assure you the grande dame will be convinced that I am smitten with you. Have no fear of that."

  "Thank you for coming to my rescue. I shall be eternally grateful," Rozalyn murmured, no longer fearing that Dominic intended to blurt out the truth and get her into more trouble with the beldame. "I promise you will be well paid for this inconvenience."

  "The pleasure will be all mine . . . I'm sure," Dominic insisted. Soft laughter tumbled from his lips while he followed the shapely lass through the foyer.

  If Rozalyn had known what lusty thoughts were whirling through his mind, she most certainly would not have granted him amnesty. Indeed, she would have carted Dominic back to the brothel and deposited him on the very spot on which she had found him. Earlier, she had been guilty of visualizing how Dominic might look in the altogether, but his imaginings had progressed far past the stage of visualizing the curvaceous lass before him without a stitch of clothing. Dominic was immersed in a most delightful fantasy that would have made Rozalyn blush deeply had she been able to pluck thoughts from his mind!

  Chapter 3

  Rozalyn cast her supposed beau a discreet glance as they rounded the corner and stepped into the solarium. There was a fascinating aura about this handsome stranger, a subtle charm that piqued her interest. It wasn't only his dashing good looks and masculine physique that had caught her attention. No, there was something more, some inner driving force, a bold confidence, she perceived in him. He was different, somehow, from the other aristocrats she had met. Rozalyn was reasonably certain that he was not the kind of man who would be content with attending social functions, the sedentary gatherings of the idle rich. He looked as if he could endure a hard day's work and show no signs of fatigue. Perhaps if she and Dominic had met under normal circumstances they could have . . .

  Her straying thoughts trailed off when her gaze landed on her grandmother, and she snapped to attention, determined to play her role with convincing sincerity. Lenore was a perceptive old woman who could spot an impostor. They would both have to concentrate on their roles, and she prayed Dominic would uphold his end of the bargain.

  "Grand’mere?" Rozalyn slipped her hand from the crook of Dominic's arm as they moved into Lenore's line of vision, forcing a happy smile onto her face. "This is the man I was telling you about."

  Lenore adjusted her spectacles to study the swarthy gentleman who towered over her granddaughter. Mon Dieu! A most handsome specimen, Lenore observed. Then she berated herself for doubting that Rozalyn had a new beau, much less one as strikingly attractive as this rake.

  "Dominic Baudelair, this is my grandmother, Lenore Rabelais." Rozalyn smiled adoringly at the towering mass of muscle beside her.

  Dominic sorted through his repertoire of charming smiles. Presenting the old woman with one of the highest quality, he clasped her hand and pressed a fleeting kiss to her wrist. "Madame Rabelais, it is an honor and privilege to meet you. Rozalyn has told me a great deal about you."

  "Nothing insulting, I hope," Lenore wheezed as she flung her granddaughter a teasing grin. "I have been harsh with Rozalyn of late, and I would not be surprised to learn that she had taken my name in vain on several occasions."

  "Au contraire," Dominic contradicted, breaking into another disarming smile that melted the beldame. "Rozalyn has the utmost respect for you and she speaks fondly of you." His sinewy arm slid around Rozalyn's waist, drawing her against him, as his lips grazed her delicately arched brow. Then he refocused his attention on the old woman who was drinking in the scene. "She may be a bit feisty at times, but besides her high spirit, she possesses a heart of gold. I adore her for both."

  Rozalyn allowed the close physical contact for the sake of the charade, but she could not explain the strange sensation that surged through her when her senses were invaded by the musky scent of him. You are only caught up in your role, she told herself, determined to stand her ground, when strong, confident hands wandered over her ribs to settle familiarly on her waist. These hands have mapped the contours of a woman's body on numerous occasions, Rozalyn thought resentfully, even as she forced a smitten smile and laid her head against Dominic's sturdy shoulder.

  Novice he was not! He seemed at ease touching her, and Rozalyn had the sneaking suspicion this rogue intended to portray her doting beau even more convincingly than she had requested. Unfortunately, she was in a ticklish situation. If she attempted to put him in his place in her usual manner, Lenore would know this was a deceitful charade.

  Now she knew why he'd been grinning so smugly when he'd pranced up the steps. Sidling closer, Rozalyn bided her time until she could retaliate suitably.

  "Isn't Dominic everything I said he was, Grand’mere?" she purred. Her sooty lashes fluttered up to peer into his handsome features, certain that beneath his charming exterior lurked a snake. No wonder he was so charming since he was a serpent.

  When his adventurous hand strayed across her hip to sketch the curve of her derierre, Rozalyn inwardly flinched and gritted her teeth. How she would have loved to slap him silly! But if she dared, her grandmother would swear she had lost her mind. The old woman didn't have any idea what was going on behind Rozalyn's back. Her view of it was blocked and Dominic was taking full advantage of that fact.

  Rozalyn silently fumed as Dominic's fingertips splayed across her buttocks. Two could play his game.

  "Dominic does seem to be everything I hoped you would find in a man." Lenore watched the two lovebirds hover close, seemingly enamored of each other.

  "He is far more than I expected and I am most fortunate," Rozalyn insisted. A sticky sweet smile glazed her lips. She was most thankful her riding habit reached to the floor so Lenore could not see her grind the heel of her riding boot into Dominic's foot. "I am very happy, Grand’mere . . ." She tilted her face as if to offer Dominic her waiting lips.

  "And so am I." Dominic bit back a grimace when the mischievous imp's boot heel mashed his foot, but he recovered in time to note the invitation of her soft, sweet mouth.

  But he learned quickly that Rozalyn did not mean to offer pleasure, only to inflict more pain. As his mouth slanted across hers, she bit into his lower lip, silently daring him to yelp in pain and spoil her charade. Dominic took it like a man, however, and he quietly, patiently, waited to get even.

  When he lifted his raven head, Rozalyn's eyes were glittering with deviltry. It was all he could do to prevent clamping his fingers around her swanlike neck and shaking the stuffing out of her.

  Naturally, Lenore was not aware of Dominic's bold caresses or of Rozalyn's painful retaliations. She did not know how difficult it was for Dominic to remain silent when he experienced a kiss that was, in actuality, a vicious bite—the first such in his vast experience of women. Lenore was warmed by the touching scene, and her spirits soared with pleasure. At last Rozalyn had met her match. Dominic Baudelair was everything Lenore had wanted for Rozalyn, and it was obvious her granddaughter adored the man or she would not have openly invited his kiss. Never had Lenore seen Rozalyn pay such adoring attention to a suitor.

  "You cannot know how pleased I am to see that the two
of you are so fond of each other." Lenore beamed at the couple before her, living proof that looks could sometimes be deceiving. "You cannot know how long I have prayed for this day."

  "And I dream of the day I can make Rozalyn my own," Dominic murmured. His lips brushed against her neck and then he nibbled at her ear, just as mercilessly as she had bitten his lip.

  Rozalyn did not dare pull away, but she swore her earlobe would be completely chewed in two if Dominic persisted. Reaching up to pull a hairpin from her shining mass of raven curls, Rozalyn tucked the makeshift weapon in her hand. Inconspicuously, she brought it around behind Dominic, a spiteful smile rippling across her lips as she anticipated her counter tactic. She stabbed the rake in the back and watched him wince uncomfortably at the prick of her jeweled hairpin.

  "You do plan to wed? And soon?" Lenore straightened in her wheelchair, her eyes lighting up like candelabra.

  "Bien entendu," Rozalyn assured the beldame. After extracting the pin from his spine, she jabbed Dominic between the shoulder blades.

  "The sooner the better." Dominic smiled through gritted teeth and then sucked in his breath when the little imp situated the hairpin between his ribs. Damn, Rozalyn had certainly made her point. "Forgive my boldness, madame, but I cannot wait to have Rozalyn all to myself. . . ." He did not explain for what purpose. Indeed, the old woman would have been shocked to learn that it was torture he had in mind, not romance.

  That will be the day! Rozalyn thought smugly. Dominic deserved exactly what she had given him, and she was not about to allow him the chance to seek vengeance. After all, if he had behaved himself she would not have found it necessary to inflict pain on his person. The lout!

  "It would certainly seem so," Lenore observed with a smile. "The two of you appear to be anxious to repeat the vows and even more anxious to . . ." Her voice trailed off, leaving the insinuation in the air.

  "Oui, madame, there is a compelling attraction between us," Dominic insisted, baffled by his overwhelming urge to strangle the ornery chit and then kiss her senseless. How could he be stung by two contradicting emotions in the same moment? "I fear I cannot resist your granddaughter. She is like no one I have ever known."

  "That is a fact." Lenore sniffed. She cast Rozalyn a curious frown, wondering if the high-spirited sprite could give up her wild ways . . . permanently . . . even for such a man as this.

  Desire overruled Dominic's need for revenge when his eyes locked with dancing pools of blue. Like a moth flying into a flame, knowing full well he would get his wings singed for taking unfair advantage, Dominic lowered his head to capture her lips. His kiss devoured and yet savored the sweet taste of her.

  Shock waves of pleasure flooded over Rozalyn, astonishing her. She had expected flames of indignation to leap through her when he bent her into the hard contours of his body, but they did not. Instead, she experienced a sensation comparable to nothing in her somewhat limited experience. Jeffrey Corday had repulsed her with his forceful embrace, but this handsome stranger had breached her defenses. The manly scent of him wrapped itself around her senses as her traitorous body melted into his, reveling in the pleasure he wove about her like a warm, protective cocoon.

  Rozalyn had been kissed, but never like this! Dominic was teaching her things she had never known about kissing, things that intrigued her. His questing tongue traced her lips and then probed deeper, but only for an instant. He was tempting her, silently assuring her that she was only being offered a foretaste of pleasure. Rozalyn had only begun to discover the difference between a kiss and a kiss.

  Strong, capable arms cradled her, and his warm lips continued to mate sensuously with hers, leaving her knees weak from his devastatingly tender assault. His black magic was more potent than any forceful embrace. Dominic Baudelair could make her feel as if they were making love though they shared no more than a kiss in broad daylight with the beldame as an audience.

  Rozalyn was no fool. Naive? Well, perhaps a little, she conceded. But she did know when she had been skillfully seduced. Dominic was more man than she could handle.

  Dominic dragged his lips from hers and then brushed a feathery kiss across her flushed cheek, leaving her with a warm, giddy sensation trickling down her spine. "Pardonnez-moi, madame," he apologized, his voice heavy with disturbed desire. "I seem to have forgotten myself." Good God! Had he been so long without a woman that the feel of this soft, delicious nymph had driven him to distraction? The kiss had served only to whet his appetite, creating a monstrous craving that he was hard pressed to ignore. This raven-haired minx had a strange effect on him. A kiss and a few caresses set off a chain reaction in his male body, and the far-reaching side effects of their embrace had set every nerve and muscle to tingling. "As I have explained, I seem to have tremendous difficulty resisting your lovely granddaughter." A sheepish smile pursed his lips as he ran his knuckles over Rozalyn's delicate jaw and surveyed her bewildered expression. "Were we to wed tomorrow, I am not certain it would be soon enough to satisfy me."

  The delighted grin that crinkled Lenore's aged features was bright enough to lead a wayward traveler through a blizzard, and there was an unusual glow in Rozalyn's eyes, a flicker that Lenore had never detected in them until this moment. Usually, boredom was etched on Rozalyn's features when she was in the company of one of her suitors, but not today. It was as if the poor child had been struck by a bolt of lightning. Dominic's kiss seemed to be as intoxicating as wine to her granddaughter.

  Rozalyn DuBois, the free-spirited butterfly, had finally lighted on a man who seemed capable of matching her quick temper and her zest for living. Lenore was beside herself with happiness. She felt better than she had in years. Rozalyn and Dominic had done wonders for her spirit. They had turned her dreary world around and now she was delighted to be a part of it once again.

  "If there can be no wedding tomorrow we will at least celebrate the upcoming, joyous event with an engagement party. I want the two of you to come to supper on Friday," Lenore insisted enthusiastically. "I will invite a few of our friends." She clasped her hands together and said delightedly, "Ah, I have so many arrangements to make for the celebration."

  "But, Grand’mere," Rozalyn gasped, her wide blue eyes flying to the beaming old woman who suddenly appeared ten years younger, "that is quite impossible!" Rozalyn didn't trust herself to spend an entire evening with Dominic, not after the damage he had inflicted on her in the span of thirty minutes. There was no telling what he might do! "Dominic is a very busy man and I could not ask him to—"

  "I am never too busy to enjoy the grande dame's delightful company," he cut in, bringing quick death to Rozalyn's hasty excuse. "We will be happy to join you."

  Biting back a wicked smile, he glanced around to detect the dismayed expression that momentarily crossed Rozalyn's bewitching features. Let the little spitfire steam and stew, he thought devilishly. She brewed up this lie and it serves her right to be simmering in her own juice. He was thoroughly enjoying this escapade. He would gladly spend an evening with this raven-haired beauty at his side, doting over him . . . even if it was just an act. If it were not for Lenore, Dominic knew Rozalyn would never consent to keep company with him, not after he had taken advantage of her blind side.

  Rozalyn DuBois fascinated him, nonetheless. He dearly loved challenges. Indeed, he lived for them. That was why he chose to hunt and trap in the wilderness instead of living on the wealth his grandparents had accumulated. Every day in the wilds was a daring adventure. Although courting this ebony-haired hellcat would not be as difficult as confronting an unfriendly tribe of Blackfeet or tangling with a grizzly, it would serve as an amusing pastime, he told himself.

  "Then I shall expect you at seven on Friday," Lenore declared. Wheeling her chair around, she rolled across the solarium, dodging the maze of potted plants and amazing Rozalyn with her sudden display of strength and agility. "I have not hosted a dinner party in years, but now I have the perfect reason to do so."

  "Grand’mere!" Rozalyn wailed,
distressed that her white lie had snowballed into catastrophe. "You are not well enough to entertain a houseful of guests . . . are you?" A curious frown knitted Rozalyn's brow. My, but Lenore's burst of energy was astonishing. The previous hour she had voiced doubts that she would survive the day. Now the beldame looked as if she could challenge an opponent to a wheelchair race and emerge the victor.

  "I feel better than I have in weeks," Lenore insisted exuberantly. "The distraction will be good for me. I would much prefer to die from overexertion than boredom." It was all she could do to keep from catapulting herself from the chair and dashing into the foyer. "Now where is that confounded servant? He is never around when I need him. Hawthorne! Venez id, tout de suite!" Lenore's miraculous recovery was soon forgotten when the old woman sailed out of the room to summon her servant and give instructions for the dinner party. Despair crowded in on Rozalyn from all sides. Sweet mercy! How was she to endure a full evening with a man who seemed to have as many arms as an octopus. Why, it was heroic to tolerate Dominic for thirty minutes! How could she endure him for an evening? Grumbling over her disastrous luck, Rozalyn stormed toward the door. Dominic followed in her wake, grinning like a weasel about to make a meal of a delicious dove.

  Chapter 4

  Once they were out of earshot, Rozalyn let loose with both barrels. "Now see what you've done," she snapped furiously. "This ridiculous engagement party will kill her. Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? Isn't it enough that you took unfair advantage of me in her presence? What kind of man are you? How dare you fondle me right under Grand’mere's nose!"

  Her voice was becoming higher and wilder by the second so Dominic clamped his hand over her mouth to shush her before she brought the servants to the stoop to investigate the cause of her ravings.