His hand shook as his palm tenderly cupped her cheek to angle her head backward, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
Isobel’s heart thumped heavily beneath her breast as her mouth instinctively opened to his demand. Whatever he had done in the past, in that moment she could deny him nothing. Her fingers tangled in the soft curls of hair at the nape of his neck, and she hungrily pulled his head closer. Eyes closed, she gave herself over to the wondrous sensation of his demanding kiss, and the solid comfort of his warm embrace.
His firm lips plundered hers, seeking to brand her as his. The hot spear of his tongue probed and plundered the moist recesses of her mouth, demanding her acceptance of his possession.
Somewhere off in the distance, a strange whistle floated hauntingly through the air. Almost imperceptible in the darkening gloom, it had a profound and immediate effect upon Dominic who immediately released her lips.
His breath came in short pants, as his hard gaze scanned the woodland surrounding them. The harsh lines of his passion flushed face suddenly held a ruthless danger that made her shiver warily. All vestiges of passion immediately vanished, leaving his eyes hard with glacial menace; to such an extent that Isobel wondered if she had imagined the forbidden passion of the previous few moments.
“Dominic?” Isobel queried, only to find his finger resting upon her lips.
Silently, he shook his head motioning for her to be quiet before he slowly eased them both to their feet.
Unfortunately, while Isobel had been lying wantonly in his arms, her body had also succumbed to lying upon the damp, cold earth in nothing but inadequately thin clothing. When he moved away from her, taking his warmth with him, she immediately shivered as cold threatened her already tenuous hold on life. Her legs buckled beneath her meagre weight and she would have fallen to the floor if it hadn’t been for Dominic, who quickly swept her off her feet, and carried through the darkness.
Astounded at the speed of change in the past few moments, Isobel watched him. She was unable to tear her gaze from the outline of Dominic’s chiselled features, and the stern ticking in his jaw. Bathed in shadows, his eyes were carefully scanning the area before them. She could feel the fine tension in his frame warning her that he was alert and on guard.
She knew instinctively there was no part of the woods surrounding them that hadn’t been scanned thoroughly for any sign of danger. This was a new and faintly alarming side of him she had never seen before, and she wasn’t certain she was all that comfortable with the dangerous predator still holding her.
Casting a quick glance at the shadows around them, Isobel could see nothing other than the darkening shadows of the trees and bushes.
She was still in awe with the ease in which he had moved with a lithe confidence, through the broken branches littering the floor.
Overwrought by the past few hours, she jumped nervously in his arms as the warmth of his lips suddenly settled close to her ear.
“Keep quiet. We need to go back to Havistock, and quickly,” the warmth of his breath against her cheek did little to ward off the chill sweeping through her.
She was unable to hide the shiver that wracked her. Although she silently nodded in acquiescence, she felt sure that her acceptance wasn’t expected. She would be taken to Havistock anyway, whether she wanted to go or not.
Suddenly, she was very glad for the warmth of his presence, even if he could never be hers. Wearily she rested her head meekly against his shoulder, fighting with the knowledge that even if she did have the energy to argue against his arrogant command of her, she wasn’t sure she would object.
Several moments later, Isobel saw the origin of the strange whistle as they cleared the protection of the small copse of trees. A stocky man sat atop a very large bay, waiting in the encroaching gloom for them to approach. Isobel shuddered at the menacing shadow of horse and rider, so starkly outlined in the night skies that she could only be very grateful she hadn’t seen such a ghostly sight while she had been alone.
She was only vaguely aware of hushed murmuring before she was lifted upward. Within moments she was held tightly against Dominic’s chest again, as both horses cantered through open fields toward Havistock. Save in Dominic’s tender embrace, exhaustion soon claimed her and despite the jolting of the horse beneath her, Isobel succumbed to the swirling blackness sucking her under.
Dominic took a few precious moments to slow down and carefully enfold her in his long wool cloak. The bone-chilling cold of her skin disturbed him greatly, and he knew she was in serious danger from the cold wind that howled menacingly around them. She needed sustained warmth, and fast.
Enfolding her slender form in the clock, he pulled her against him tightly and tugged the edges of his cloak around her as much as he could, before he nudged his horse toward home.
“Not long until we get there now, darling. We will soon have you safe and warm. Everything will be alright. You’ll see,” Dominic wasn’t sure she had heard him, but it gave him some measure of reassurance to assume she had. The alternative was too much to contemplate.
Isobel was vaguely aware of Dominic’s hushed whisper, but couldn’t summon the energy to respond. It sounded as though his voice was coming from a long way off, and she couldn’t quite reach him. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get her eyes to open. The battle to open her eyes was just too great for her dwindling strength, and within seconds the meagre supply of energy she did have suddenly evaporated, leaving Isobel at the mercy of the pervading darkness once more.
“Isobel?” Dominic was worried. His voice held a more commanding edge when she didn’t respond.
“Isobel?” he twitched his shoulder lightly in an attempt to wake her, and cursed fluidly when her head lolled back, her eyes firmly closed. Whether it was starvation, cold, exhaustion or fear that had caused her to faint, Dominic couldn’t tell but the urge to get her to Havistock nipped at his heels. Without further ado, he pulled her tight against him, dug his heels into the horse beneath them, and cursed the distance to the house. Having dispatched his groom to summon the doctor several miles back, Dominic cursed fluidly when rain began to pelt down on them, adding to her already perilous predicament.
“Cursed weather,” Dominic muttered starkly, eventually drawing to a halt in front of Havistock Hall’s heavy oak doors. It took little effort for him to juggle Isobel enough to kick the front door open, and within mere seconds, Dominic had them both inside the warmth of the Main Hall.
“Manvers!” Dominic bellowed, mounting the main staircase, two steps at a time. He was oblivious to the puddles his booted feet left behind. “Manvers, where are you? Quickly man!”
Within seconds, his trusted butler, Manvers was running down the hallway from the kitchens, Mrs Holcombe, his housekeeper, and what appeared to be the entire house staff behind them.
“Get someone to see to my horse. Shut the door quickly and lock it Manvers,” Dominic ordered heading straight toward the master suite. “Do not open that door to anybody, unless I am informed first, do you understand?” He didn’t wait for Manvers’ assent.
“Mrs Holcombe, please I need your assistance,” he shouted, disappearing down the corridor leading to his own suite of rooms. “Bring some hot water and warm food quickly!” He was vaguely aware of the stunned silence behind him for several moments, before the house burst into a flurry of activity.
As he strode through the upper hallway, he never paused to consider placing her in one of the opulent guest rooms, instead heading directly towards his own suite of rooms in the rear of the house.