A savage sneer curled the corner of his mouth as he drew a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressed it against his bleeding cheek. "Your wishes are quite apparent, chérie," he observed sardonically. Then turning to his astonished acquaintances, he executed a flourishing bow. "Do come in, gentlemen. Perhaps you will have more luck than I in persuading the lady to share her favors." He paused, throwing a contemptuous glance at Brie. "I assure you, it will be worth the effort. She can be temptation enough for any man when she chooses."
Then he spun on his heel and stalked from the room.
Lady Denise knew the instant when Dominic returned, for her eyes were riveted on the ballroom doors. Earlier in the evening, she had been surprised to receive Dominic's note offering to escort her to the Copely's ball. She had not expected to be the recipient of his attentions again since his parting words at their last meeting had seemed quite final, but she hadn't hesitated to accept his invitation, hoping that his interest signaled a willingness to resume their previous relationship.
When he had arrived in his carriage to take her to the ball, however, her hopes had immediately suffered a setback. Dominic's striking features had been shrouded in an enigmatic expression, his manner distant and uncommunicative. He had seemed barely to tolerate her presence once they reached the ball, and it had been nearly impossible to hold his attention and keep him at her side.
Her optimism at her success had taken a plunging dive when Brie Carringdon arrived, and when Dominic had agreed to a private conversation with the auburn-haired beauty, Denise had been infuriated. She had watched him leave, then seized the opportunity to thwart her rival by arranging for Dominic's friends to interrupt his planned tête-à-tête. Awaiting Dominic's return with nervous impatience, she had kept her eyes trained on the doors.
Now he was headed toward her, wearing an expression that boded ill. She knew him well enough to recognize the signs of a savage temper held barely in check.
She forgot her own precarious situation, though, when she saw the deep scratches marring his cheek. "Good heavens!" she was startled into exclaiming. "Whatever happened to your face?"
Dominic appeared to smile. "Use your imagination, my sweet. I doubt you will have any trouble guessing this was the result of the little scene you staged. Come, I intend to take you home. I've already ordered the carriage."
"But. . . we have only just arrived! You can't mean to leave so soon."
He raised an eyebrow and fixed her with his glittering gaze. Denise made no protest, therefore, when he took her arm and steered her toward the wide double doors. She held her tongue as they made their way down two flights of stairs, not wanting to antagonize him further, and with effort she even refrained from staring at the red grooves that furrowed his cheek.
Dominic was draping her fur-lined cloak about her shoulders when someone growled his name. He paused, looking up, while Denise followed his gaze to the top of the wide staircase. Julian Blake stood there, glaring down at them. She heard Dominic give a muttered curse as the viscount bounded down the stairs.
Julian halted barely a foot away, his fists clenched, his usually pleasant countenance twisted with anger. "You go too far, Dominic," he ground out between his teeth.
Dominic appeared not to have heard. Denise watched in amazement as he turned away to accept his evening cape from an attendant footman. She had
never before known Dominic to allow anyone to use that tone of voice with him.
"By God, Dominic—"
"This is hardly the place to discuss our differences," he said calmly.
Julian clamped his mouth shut, saying nothing further until they were out on the street and Denise had been handed into Dominic's carriage. Then he repeated his accusation in a voice that was taut with suppressed fury.
Denise had no trouble hearing the exchange through the open carriage door, and by parting the curtains slightly, she could also see. Dominic stood with one foot poised on the carriage step, his expression inscrutable, but when Julian reached out to grasp his arm, a dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes.
At his warning, Julian released his grip, although he retained his belligerent stance. "I'll not let you get away with this, Dominic. Did you think she had no protectors? That I would stand by and let you make a mockery of her honor?"
Dominic's reply was cool, but his voice held a savage undertone. "You are mistaken. Miss Carringdon needs a keeper, not a protector. Now if you will excuse me?"
He turned away, making to enter the coach, but when Julian spoke again to demand satisfaction, Dominic froze. "I will pretend I did not hear that remark, my friend," he said softly.
"You would ignore a challenge?"
"I have no wish to put a bullet through you, Julian—and certainly not because a scheming little witch has you blinded with her beauty. I leave for the Continent tomorrow. I trust that by the time I return, you will have come to your senses." Dominic climbed into the coach, then, slamming the door behind him.
As the carriage pulled away, Denise managed a final glance out the window. Julian stood there, glaring after them, his face white with fury.
Denise hid her triumphant smile as she settled herself comfortably against the cushions. She had no desire to see Dominic engaged in a duel over another woman, particularly Brie Carringdon, but this last exchange convinced her she had nothing to fear. Even if her wide experience with men had not made her a competent judge, one look at Dominic's brooding features would have told her that he held no love for her beautiful rival. For whatever reason, the Carringdon chit had incurred his wrath, and then Julian had added fuel to the fire by defending her.
Wisely, Denise was silent for the short trip to her home. She fully intended to capitalize on Dominic's violent mood, but she knew better than to draw his attention while his fury was still at its peak. His strong profile was barely visible in the darkness as he lounged negligently in his seat, staring out the window, but Denise could sense the unleashed tension in his body. He was like a powerful, savage beast, tightly controlled but primed for attack, awaiting the slightest provocation.
Her pulses leapt when at last Dominic turned to look at her. His eyes were hard and glittering, holding no trace of gentleness. The banked fires of his passions needed a release, she knew, and she hoped he would find it in her body.
When the carriage drew to a halt before her house, she murmured his name and in her husky voice, invited him to come inside. Dominic merely leaned over to push open the door.
"You aren't leaving now!" she exclaimed in bewilderment.
His gray eyes raked her body. "I'm not feeling particularly amorous at the moment, if you hadn't noticed."