Brie Carringdon was a witch! A beautiful, damnable witch. He had meant to use her for his own pleasure, but she had turned the tables on him, catching him in her own silken web. Indeed, he was probably only one of countless men who had fallen for her wiles. No doubt she had picked him out long ago as her next victim.
Her next victim?
Needing to cool his fevered brain, Dominic began to pace the garden path. Who was he trying to fool? He knew perfectly well Brie hadn't deliberately tried to inflame his senses. He had been caught for a moment, yes, but she wasn't to blame. Hell, she didn't care what she looked like half the time, dressing like the veriest ragamuffin in boy's clothes. She hadn't the faintest notion what her slender beauty could do to a man.
He was aware of it, though. Devastatingly aware. His loins still burned for her.
Dominic swore again. He should have taken her here in the garden, regardless of the strange feelings she aroused in him, for having Brie once more would be the only way to put out the smoldering fires in his body. She would have known pleasure in his lovemaking, he would have seen to that. And she hadn't been afraid of him this time, he was certain. He had not had to force her responses. She had been his for the asking, willing to give herself completely. . . . But then he had driven her away.
Next time, Dominic promised himself, he would not let her go. Next time he would be better prepared. Now that he was
warned, he would be able to guard himself against her bewitching spells.
But what then? he asked himself uneasily. When he had quenched his desire for Brie, would he then be free of her? Afterward, could he more easily deny the fierce attraction he had for her?
A long, long time passed before Dominic slowly followed the path Brie had taken to the house.
Chapter Nine
Brie rose early the next morning and flung herself into a frenzy of activity, seeking to bury her frustration and anger in physical exhaustion. She was determined to banish all thoughts of Dominic from her mind. She rode with the stable hands when they went out at dawn's first light to exercise the horses, then coerced John into accompanying her when she rode out again. When she was suitably numb, Brie returned to the house where she attacked estate accounts till sums whirled in her head.
She spent the afternoon with the estate steward, Mr. Tyler, paying some long-overdue visits to several of her tenants. She had been invited along with Caroline to take tea with Elizabeth Scofield, but she refused to go, having no wish to encounter Lady Denise again.
It was nearly dusk by the time Brie returned to Greenwood. When she was informed by the butler Garby that Lord Stanton awaited her in the drawing room, Brie was astonished. She had not expected even Dominie would have the audacity to face her after his rejection of her the previous evening.
Her first impulse was to flee, but she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid Dominic forever, not if he were truly determined to speak to her. And she would be far safer meeting him in her own home with a houseful of staunchly loyal servants to protect her. Brie took as long as possible to remove her gloves and bonnet and smooth the folds of her blue pelisse. Then, reluctantly, she climbed the stairs to attend her visitor.
She paused at the door, trying to bolster her failing courage. She had a good view of Dominic's back, for he was standing at the window, looking out at the front lawn. Her pulse started beating erratically at just the sight of his tall, well-muscled form. He was dressed impeccably in gray trousers and a matching frock coat. He must have heard her, for he turned as she entered.
Brie decided her best defense was a direct attack. "To what do I owe this unwelcome visit, my lord?" she demanded, keeping a wide distance between them. "I warn you that if you have come to provoke me, I shall call a footman and have you thrown out of the house."
Dominic met her defiant glare with a melting smile—that same fallen-angel smile whose sweetness never failed to affect her. "I don't intend to provoke you, Brie. Just the opposite, in fact. I have come to apologize."
"I expect you are referring to your behavior last night. Well, you may save yourself the trouble. I don't mean to listen to your explanations."
Dominic crossed the room toward her. "I'm not apologizing for kissing you. I enjoyed it too much to regret it. But for everything else I am truiy sorry."
"Stay away from me!" Alarmed to see Dominic advancing, Brie took a hasty step backward. She had no faith in her ability to withstand him, should he try to take her in his arms.
When Dominic halted, Brie eyed him warily. "Why do you not visit Lady Grayson? I'm sure she would welcome your attentions."
She had no trouble recognizing the amusement that flashed in his eyes. "Perhaps," he replied amiably. "But Denise isn't available. She left this morning for London. Besides, I prefer your charming company."
"But I do not prefer yours," Brie returned, not admitting her relief that Lady Grayson was no longer in the neighborhood.
She never learned how her sparring match with Dominic would have ended, for their conversation was interrupted just then by Garby's entrance. The butler had an urgent summons from John Simms. "He requests that you come to the stables at once, Miss Brie," he said with an apologetic glance for her noble visitor. "There is a problem with one of the horses."
Brie was grateful for the reprieve. She asked Dominic to excuse her and waited only for his polite agreement before making her escape. She was being a coward, she knew. Then again, John never requested her presence unless it was important.
When she reached the stableyard, she understood at once why John had summoned her. He and several of his men were frantically trying to control a struggling broodmare. The horse was rearing and lashing out with her hooves while the men pulled ineffectually on the lead rope tied around her neck.
Brie was puzzled, for normally Firefly was docile and even tempered. But then she saw the long, vicious slashes covering the horse's body and realized the
sleek coat was wet with blood. Brie stared in horror, wondering who would have dared beat a defenseless animal, especially a mare in foal.
Clamping down on her anger, she reached for the rope. "Send everyone away, John," she said quietly.
John sent the grooms scurrying, knowing few people could calm a horse as Brie could, but he stood by as she slackened the rope. She talked softly, till at last the mare ceased fighting and stood trembling under her soothing hand.