Authors: Carol Finch
"
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.
"You told me to sound convincing," Dominic reminded her, his tone laced with wicked amusement. "I upheld my end of the bargain and now you must uphold yours. You promised that I would be compensated for my time and trouble and I intend to hold you to that vow,
cherie
."
The devilish grin on his sensuous lips evoked a suspicious frown from Rozalyn. She had the sinking feeling that Dominic lacked moral fiber and he anticipated something other than gold coin in payment for services rendered. He was crazed if he thought she would submit to some outlandish request.
When his hand dropped away from her mouth, Rozalyn flung him an icy glare, but Dominic showed no sign of frostbite, much to her dismay. He merely shrugged and flicked an imaginary fleck of lint from the sleeve of his waistcoat.
"Well, what price do you demand?" Rozalyn asked tersely. "I will decide if it is reasonable compensation. And once you have escorted me to
Grand’mere
's dinner party, we will associate no more."
"No?" One thick brow tilted to a taunting angle. "And how will you explain that distressing news to the
grande dame
? You saw for yourself that the possibility of seeing you wed took ten years off her life. Your disappointing announcement will have her teetering with one foot in the grave."
A deliciously wicked grin rippled across Rozalyn's lips as she raked Dominic with a scornful glance. "You know of my infamous reputation,
monsieur
. It would be a shame if you met with a fatal accident on the eve of our wedding. My grandmother would be heartbroken by the news, but she would be too busy consoling her bereaved granddaughter to think of herself."
It was Dominic's turn to eye this feisty chit warily. He could have sworn by the devilish gleam in her eyes that she would derive sinful pleasure from disposing of him. He had heard enough about Rozalyn DuBois to know that it was suicidal to underestimate her. The only way to counteract her threat was to turn the tables on her, and he intended to do just that. Without bothering to respond, he promptly spun about and marched back up the steps to Lenore Rabelais' manor.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rozalyn questioned.
"I'm going to inform your grandmother that you and I are strangers and that you dreamed up this scheme to deceive her," he threw over his shoulder.
Rozalyn made a face at his departing back, muttered several disrespectful epithets, and then heaved a defeated sigh. "Very well, Dominic, it seems my hands are tied. You leave me no choice but to become a victim of blackmail."
Instantly, Dominic reversed direction and, beaming with self-satisfaction, strutted down the steps like a haughty peacock out for a morning stroll. Rozalyn was itching to pluck out his tail feathers, one by one. The scoundrel! He had incredible nerve. Damn him for backing her into a corner and stalking about her like a mountain lion toying with his prey.
"What is it you expect for playing my beloved beau?" she queried, her tone acrid with anger. "And do try to be reasonable ... if that is possible for a man like you."
A sly smile slid across his full lips, and cupping her chin in his hand, he brought it down a notch. "My dear Rozalyn, I am not in a position that dictates compromise. You are." He chuckled at her exaggerated pout. "I will inform you of the sort of payment that will satisfy me and you will reimburse me for my trouble. If you don't, I will march back to
Madame
Rabelais and expose you for the liar you are. And that,
amie
, will break the old woman's heart."