Velvet Embrace

Groan

ing in pain, Dominic clutched at his shoulder, while Julian flexed his fingers in satisfaction. "You bloody bastard! I've been itching to do that for ages, and you damn well deserve another. Brie's hands were burned, goddamn you! Blisters the size of walnuts on her wrists. And you're to blame."

Dominic made no attempt to defend himself. He merely lay there, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Still glaring, Julian leaned over him and realized that the stitches in Dominic's shoulder had broken loose. Blood was welling beneath his fingers and running freely across his chest. Muttering an oath, Julian grabbed a towel from the washstand and pressed it tightly against the gaping wound.

"You bloody well deserve to bleed to death," he said between clenched teeth. "Brie got those burns trying to get a rope off her wrists, damn you. That snake had tied her up."

Dominic shut his eyes. "Where . . . is she?" he asked in a tormented whisper. "I must talk to her."

"She's better off without your company, if you ask me."

Dominic flung a hand up to cover his face, as if to ward off some nightmarish vision. "God . . . I've never been more terrified in my life. I couldn't do a thing but watch while that bastard. . . . He held a knife to her throat and would have killed her had I shown the least concern. Damn it, Julian, I would have given my own life before I let that vermin hurt her! I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. God . . . what he must have done to her."

Hearing the tortured explanation wrenched from Dominic. Julian felt his own anger ebb. He had been frantic with worry when Brie had disappeared and a search had turned up no trace of her whereabouts. When a message had come from Germain, saying that Brie was his hostage and that Stanton should meet him, Julian had immediately sent messengers to intercept Dominic on the road. But then Dominic had insisted on handling Germain alone. Julian had been infuriated by his own helplessness, but when he had seen Brie's injured wrists and heard her recount the tale of her abduction, he had become livid.

Now, hearing the anguish in Dominic's tone, Julian experienced a twinge of guilt. "Germain didn't touch her, Dom," Julian said, wanting to console him.

"Yes, he did—"

"I mean that he didn't rape her. He hit Brie instead and knocked her senseless. She didn't come around until shortly before you arrived."

Seeing the intense relief on Dominic's face, Julian wondered how he possibly could have thoughts his friend didn't care about Brie. If that wasn't the agony of a man in love, he would never again pretend to understand human nature.

"Germain told Brie you had killed Cassandra," Julian said quietly, "but she had enough sense not to believe that drivel. She's no fool, Dom, even if she behaves impetuously at times. And I think she cares for you more than you realize. She went with Germain in the first place because he told her you had been hurt and needed her."

When Dominic said nothing, Julian sighed. "Well, then, I guess I owe you an apology for planting you a facer. Come on, get back in bed while I—"

"You hit him?"

Both men looked up to see Brie standing in the doorway. She swept into the room, her eyes flashing when she saw the blood on the towel. "My God, Julian, you've made his shoulder start bleeding again! Go and fetch Jacques, quickly!"

When Julian sheepishly obeyed, Dominic managed to smile wanly. "Still defending the weak and helpless, I see."

Brie gave him a quelling glance as she helped him under the covers. "What were you doing out of bed?" she asked, seeing him grimace. "Your wounds are too serious for you to be up this soon."

"I wanted to talk to you."

She avoided answering as she bent over him to inspect the damage to his shoulder. When she dabbed at his bloody chest with the towel, Dominic caught her arm. "Brie. Please . . . I want to apologize. I had no intention of putting you in such danger. Truly, I had not thought Germain would involve you."

"It was not your fault," she replied, uncomfortable with both the subject and Dominic's nearness.

Dominic glanced down at her bandaged wrists and his jaw hardened. "But it was my fault—for not being prepared. I knew what Germain was like and I should have expected his next move. He was a dangerous man, Brie, with abduction and murder only two of the specialties in his bag of tricks. He had already killed once, in that same house. The boy was your grandfather's son Nicholas."

"I . . . I realized that at the time, from your conversation."

"And can you forgive me?"

Feeling his penetrating gaze search her face, Brie looked away. "There is nothing to forgive. Indeed, I should be thanking you for rescuing me. I was never in my life so pleased to see anyone."

"I regret that you had to witness our fight, especially when I had to kill Germain. But I couldn't let him live, Brie, not after what he had done to you."

"He didn't harm me," she said quietly, remembering the pain of Germain's rough treatment and the greater anguish of Dominic's indifference.

"But I think you misunderstood my words at first. I had to say what I did. Had I given Germain the slightest indication I was concerned for you, he wouldn't have hesitated to use his knife on you."

Brie looked down at the towel she was twisting in her hands. "I realized that, too . . . when I had time to consider. But your . . . indifference was difficult to bear."