This Fierce Splendor

“No.” The word was slurred. He could tell she was almost asleep again.

He nestled closer, his hands closing possessively over her breasts. He still wanted her, he realized in surprise. Neither the bourbon nor his pleasure, nor exhaustion had altered that state. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman again so soon.

God, he was tired. He would make love to her once more in a few minutes. He would watch her face as he moved and enjoy her incredible tightness. But now he would let her rest and perhaps rest a little himself. His heavy lids closed, he felt awareness edging away from him. No! He tried desperately to capture it once again, but it was gone.

Elspeth woke with Dominic’s hands cupping her breasts and the feel of his long, muscular body against her back. She stiffened with shock as memory of the night returned, ripping aside the comfortable veil of sleep. She kept her eyes tightly shut. Maybe that memory had been a dream. Perhaps Dominic’s presence in her bed was also a dream.

Dominic stirred against her, his breath warm on her ear, his big hands tightened on her breasts, his palms gentle and possessive even in sleep. If this was a dream, it certainly was a tactile one, she thought desperately.

Oh, dear, it wasn’t a dream. Dominic had warned her, but she had believed the threat was an idle one born of anger. She was a fallen woman! Strange, it didn’t feel any different. She could detect no dark burden of sin weighing upon her. Perhaps that would come later. True, there was a slight ache between her thighs that could be a punishment for the iniquity of the act she had committed.

A warm wet tongue suddenly darted into her ear. Her lashes flew open.

“Turn over.” Dominic’s voice was dark and drowsy. “You have a magnificent backside, but I have a fancy to-”

“Brown,” she said dazedly as her gaze wandered to the tan brass-studded chair across the room, then to the amber drapes at the window, and finally to the dark brown of the canopy over her head. “Why is everything brown?”

“I have no idea,” he murmured. His fingers tweaked lazily at the nipples beneath his hands. “And frankly, I don’t care. I suppose my mother likes brown. Turn over, Elspeth.”

She threw off his hands and rolled panic-stricken to the far side of the bed. “No, I didn’t want-” She broke off as she sat up and a bolt of pain zagged through her head. She rubbed her temple. “Merciful heavens, my head hurts.”

“So does mine, but that isn’t my primary discomfort at the moment.” His gaze was fastened on her breasts. “Come here and see if you can make both the aches go away.”

She gazed at him indignantly. “Have you no compassion? First you ravish me, then you carry me to your room so everyone will know of my disgrace. And now you expect me to submit to you willingly. I’m not lost to all shame even if I am a fallen woman.”

There was a flicker of anger in his translucent eyes. “Elspeth, I’m in no mood for coyness this morning. My head feels as if it’s been kicked by a horse. I thought you were done with lies. Now, come here and give me what I need before I forget to be gentle with you.”

“Gentle? You weren’t-” She stopped. There had been pain, but she could not deny he had tried to be gentle. A tide of scarlet dyed her cheeks as the memory of their bodies joined, his face looking down at her as he moved within her. “Well, even if you were, it doesn’t matter. You can’t deny you ravished me.”

“Ravished?” His voice lowered to menacing softness. “I don’t recall ravishing you. However, that may come to pass if you don’t stop this blasted whining. God, how I hate hypocrisy.” His lips tightened. “You came to me because you wanted me to do exactly what I did to you last night. I thought you’d at last decided to forget the lies a ‘good’ woman tells herself.”

“I did not come here. Do you think you can hide your debauchery by claiming I came to you?” She jumped off the bed and looked wildly for her nightgown and robe. She didn’t remember him removing them, but they surely must be somewhere. She snatched a corner of the velvet coverlet from the bed and held it before her to hide her nakedness. “Why do you not admit you crept into my room and took advantage of my exhaustion to carry me in here and have your way with me?”

He sat up, his expression stunned. “Are you mad? Why should I do that? One bed is as good as another.” He added with a sardonic smile, “To any experienced debaucher.”

She ran trembling fingers through her hair. She wished her head would stop aching. She couldn’t seem to think. “How do I know why you would do it? I have no knowledge of these matters. What did you do with my gown?” She could see no sign of either her gown or robe. Would he have put them into his bureau drawers? She discarded the idea immediately. Her memory of last night had been of a Dominic far too impatient to be tidy.

He leered at her. “I burned them. I intend to keep you locked in this room so I may vent my lust on your virtuous body again and again. What else would you expect of a wicked seducer?”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t mean it.”

“Of course I mean it. Why shouldn’t I-” He stopped. She was standing there, unclothed, only the scrap of brown velvet and her long fair hair veiling her nudity, her expression vulnerable and uncertain. A sudden wave of tenderness lessened the frustration and disappointment he was feeling. “No, I didn’t mean it. I don’t know where you put your clothes. Don’t you remember?”

“How could I remember? You’re the one who disrobed me.” Her lips were trembling as she said with touching dignity, “I wish you would not make sport of me. This is not an easy matter for me to deal with. If you will tell me where my clothes are, I will dress and return to my room.”

His eyes narrowed on her face. There was no coyness there, only genuine distress. She honestly believed what she was saying. He’d had a hell of a lot of bourbon last night with Da and he had been in a wild fever for her. Maybe he could have done what she accused him of.

He rejected the idea immediately; his memory of every detail of last night was too vivid. He distinctly remembered looking down at Elspeth and thinking, how lovely her pale skin was against the brown velvet coverlet. He remembered lying down beside her and the damnably hard time he’d had waking her. Still, once awake, she’d been everything that was pliant and docile, looking up at him with those huge dreamy eyes as he entered her.

Sleep. Docile. Headache.

My God, would his father have dared?

Dominic inhaled sharply as he remembered how Da had kept the liquor flowing last night. And when had Elspeth ever been as docile as she had been when he had taken her in his arms in this bed? “That interfering son of a bitch.” He swung his legs off the bed, stood up, and quickly began to dress. “Did you have anything to drink last night?”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “A glass of lemonade with my soup.”

“You weren’t at dinner. My mother said she had sent up a tray.” He pulled on his boots. “Who brought the tray?”

“Rosa. I thought it was very kind of her.”

“Oh, yes, very kind. Don’t just stand there. Put something on.”

“What?”

“Try the bureau drawers. My mother is very fastidous about not leaving garments strewn about.”

The pink flannel nightgown and dark blue robe were folded neatly in the top drawer. Elspeth stared at them dumbly for a moment before she took the nightgown out of the drawer and pulled it over her head. “Your mother helped you to undress me? I can’t believe any respectable woman would be a party to such an act.”

“My mother’s ideas of respectability are sometimes guided by her love for my esteemed father. I don’t know if she was involved or not, but there’s a definite possibility.” He added water to what was in the basin from the night before, splashed his face, and reached for the towel. “Bring me a shirt from the second drawer.”

She obeyed him without thinking. A curious intimacy existed in the simple act, she thought as she handed him the white shirt. Intimacy. The color suddenly stained her cheeks as she remembered the degree of the intimacy that bound them after what had occurred in that bed last night. “I’m going to my room now. I’ll stay there until you’ve left Killara.”

“The hell you will.” His eyes were glittering with cold fury as he slipped his arms into the shirt and began to button it. “Thanks to my loving father, there’s been a major change of plans.”

He tucked his shirt into his trousers, grabbed her wrist, and strode toward the door. “Come along.” He pulled