Velvet Embrace

She stiffened when he came up behind her, but when he grasped her shoulder, she didn't struggle. She knew from experience she would be unable to break away. She fumed in silence as Dominic removed the pins from her hair.

He pulled the heavy mass down, combing it with his fingers. When he had wrung some of the moisture from the ends, he bent to whisper in her ear. "I don't plan to ravish your lovely body just yet, ma belle. Now take off your clothes or I shall do it for you." Disregarding her gasp of outrage, he picked up one of the cloths and leisurely began to towel his upper torso dry.

Brie wanted to tell him to go to the devil, but she realized it would be wiser to capitulate. He was perfectly capable of forcibly undressing her if she didn't comply. "Very well," she muttered at last. "But you don't have to look."

"Your modesty overwhelms me," Dominic replied sardonically.

Brie sat in one of the chairs to pull off her riding boots, and when she heard the cot creak, she knew Dominic was doing the same. Deciding it best to ignore him as much as possible, she tried not to notice when he carried his boots to the hearth to dry, but even so, she began to feel uncomfortable. He was clad only in breeches that hugged his muscular legs like a second skin. When he began to remove these as well, Brie gave a gasp and froze. But then he moved away, out of her range of vision. Shakily, she shrugged out of her own breeches and shirt and then stood there shivering in her thin chemise, wondering what to do next.

A scraping noise behind her made her jump. When Dominic dragged the cot in front of the fire, Brie quickly scurried out of his way. At least he was not totally naked, she thought with relief, seeing that he had wrapped the towel around his narrow hips. It did little to conceal the magnificence of his body, however, and Brie could feel her cheeks becoming heated as she watched him spread the blanket over the straw mattress.

When he had arranged the cot, Dominic picked up the other towel and turned to Brie, intending to help her dry off. He took only two steps, though, before he halted abruptly, sucking in his breath. Brie made an alluring sight, with her damp hair hanging about her shoulders in curling tendrils, her skin gleaming like pale gold in the candlelight. The wisp of linen she was wearing left little to the imagination. The shift covered her buttocks, but every curve of her body was provocatively revealed by the wet fabric. Dominic's eyes darkened as he took in the fetching sight. Her coral nipples were clearly visible as they strained against the delicate fabric, and when she wrapped her arms about her to ward off the cold, her thrusting breasts threatened to spill over the meager bodice. Dominie's gaze roamed lower, touching on the gently rounded hips and slender legs. Then it lifted again, locking with Brie's.

She met his heated glance and shuddered violently, although her reaction had nothing to do with the cold. The lust she saw in Dominic's gray eyes frightened her. Her fiancé had looked at her that way just before he had attacked her. Alarmed, Brie took a step backwards, her hand stealing to her throat.

Dominic could see her sudden fear. Even though he wasn't sure what caused it, he knew better than to make any abrupt movements. Clamping down on his primitive urges, he gave Brie a soft smile that was meant to convey reassurance and moved toward her slowly.

Brie waited, trembling, unable to move. It was only when Dominic began rubbing her arms briskly with the towel that she realized he didn't mean to harm her. Brie stood quite still under his ministrations, more in nervous relief than in obedience. Yet she was very much aware of Dominic's nearness, and conscious of how bronzed and muscular his arms looked next to her smooth white limbs.

He bent to dry the backs of her legs, running the cloth quickly over her slender thighs and calves. When he commanded her to turn, Brie obeyed mechanically. She felt his hands move up her legs, then pause when they reached her inner thigh. Brie looked down, experiencing a shock when she saw his ebony head so close. Realizing he was staring at the dark triangle between her legs, she flushed a bright crimson.

The same shock affected Dominic. Feeling himself break out in a cold sweat, he stood up and flicked the hem of Brie's chemise. "This is wet," he said in a strained voice. "You should take it off as well."

Hot with embarrassment, Brie shook her head. She remained mute until Dominic started to wipe her face. Then she snatched the towel away and hastily began blotting at the front of her damp shift. "I can dry myself, thank you," she muttered.

Pretending indifference, Dominic shrugged and turned away. When he had stretched himself out on the cot and pulled the woolen blanket up to his chest, he propped his head up with his hand and watched Brie as if he were prepared to treat her stubbornness with undeserved patience. Brie glared back at him, determined to freeze before she yielded to him. With a movement that was very much like a flounce, she went to sit before the fire.

She was dismayed to see how feeble the flames were. The damp wood had not caught well yet and smoke spiraled up the chimney in spasmodic spurts. Shivering, Brie drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her bare legs as she stared angrily at the struggling fire. If only the wrath that burned in her breast or the scorching gleam in Dominic's gray eyes could heat her chilled body. Then she would be more than warm enough.

Behind her, Dominic studied her proud, slender back, trying not to notice that her chemise barely covered her hips and h

ow the damp fabric molded to her slim curves. He was truly puzzled by Brie's fear of him. In spite of his reputation, Dominic had always been particularly selective of the women he made love to. Few, if any, had rejected his advances or refused what he offered. Certainly none had ever been afraid of him, at least not in bed. He had not expected Brie to fall willingly into his arms, of course, not after their singular beginning. But neither had he foreseen that his attempts to charm her would be so unsuccessful.

She had dealt his pride a severe blow, Dominic admitted with a grimace of self-mockery. He was supposed to be an expert at dalliance, a master of the game. But Brie wasn't adhering to the prescribed rituals. Far from acting as if she enjoyed such games, she seemed not even to understand the rules. He knew her to be somewhat experienced, though, and her pretense of offended innocence was starting to wear on his patience.

He watched Brie as she sat there huddled before the hearth, wondering if she were playing some deep game of her own. He had never claimed to understand the singular workings of a woman's mind; he had never even made the effort except in the line of duty. But then he had been dealing with creatures who were tediously predictable. Brie was quite different. She kept him off balance with her outspokeness and fiery temper, and he never quite knew what she would do next. She had a uniqueness that was intriguing, even exciting. But something had bridled the passionate nature that he had so tantalizingly glimpsed. Her fear had been quite genuine, he would have staked his life on it.

Seeing her uncontrollable shudders, he was conscious of an odd feeling of protectiveness, a feeling that was distinctly disturbing. He was not in the habit of experiencing such tender emotions, nor did he care to examine them too closely. Protectiveness was not the only thing he felt, either; he was also growing angry with her continued defiance. "For God's sake, come here, you foolish girl," he said cajolingly. "You're trembling enough to shake the roof down."

"I am not foolish," Brie replied stiffly, her teeth chattering. She felt almost numb with cold, but her pride wouldn't allow her to give in to him.

"I've already told you that you have no reason to fear me."

"I'm not afraid of you. I just don't like to be humiliated, as you are so fond of doing."

"I promise to stop," he said in exasperation. "Now come here before you catch your death."

Brie cast an uncertain glance over her shoulder. Sharing a bed with her tormentor was the last thing she wanted, but the promise of warmth was tempting. Her hands and feet were aching with cold, and she could feel her lips turning blue. It did seem rather idiotic to be sitting there, half frozen, when she could be sharing the blanket. But could she trust Stanton not to take advantage of the situation?

Brie searched Dominic's face for any sign of passionate intent, but she could find none. His grave expression held only concern.

She gave a last look at the fire. The blaze, though braver than before, still sparked and sputtered. With a small sigh, Brie gave up her frozen throne by the hearth and went to Dominic, crawling in beside him when he held the blanket up invitingly.

They were both grateful for her decision—Brie for the searing warmth that enveloped her as soon as Dominic pulled her, unresisting, into his arms, and Dominic for governing his impatience. In another moment he would have damned his decision not to force her and dragged her physically to the narrow cot.

Turning her so that her back was against his chest, Dominic drew his leg up to cover hers. "Your skin is like ice," he murmured as he roughly massaged her chilled arms.

Brie submitted wordlessly to his stroking hands. Too cold to be embarrassed by the intimate contact, she lay there with her head cradled on Dominic's arm, savoring the vibrant heat from his body.