Dangerous Desires Page 4
“No.” Arlie said the words to the empty room, watching helplessly as Rochford turned in the woman’s arms. Bending his head, he kissed her long and passionately, and Arlie imagined he kissed her instead of the other woman.
With a gentle shove the redhead walked away from him, and Arlie saw her teeth flash as she grinned, teasing him, urging him with her sultry stare, back into the room. Rochford pushed away from the rail and followed, leaving the balcony door open just wide enough for Arlie to see clothes hitting the floor.
“Are you ready for this evening?” Dominic asked, his voice breaking into her thoughts.
She smiled, but her lips trembled and she quickly pressed them together.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile and she wondered if he was mocking her. Dear Lord, what if he had guessed her wicked thoughts, or worse, seen her watching him and his lover from her bedroom window? Heat raced up her neck to her cheeks.
“Perhaps I’ll have a drink after all,” she replied, noticing the uplifted brow as he handed her the flask.
Avoiding contact with his fingers, she focused all her attention on not dripping any of the liquor on her new cloak—another generous gift from Dominic. The coat had no doubt cost more than her father had made in his lifetime.
Taking a long swallow of the liquor, she smiled as the brandy warmed its way down to her knotted stomach. She handed the flask back to him. He took it, his fingers grazing hers—long fingers that could bring pleasure to a woman. She had touched him before, but that had been different. She had wanted to prove her loyalty to him. Yet that touch had ignited a longing in her, a desire to be more to him than just a ward. She wanted to experience what his mistress experienced. She longed to know what his fingers would feel like on her…and in her. She yearned for his long, hard body to cover her own—his sex pressed against her—to enter her and show her what it was to be a woman.
The carriage stopped, breaking into her unwanted thoughts.
The door opened and the footman helped her out. Arlie glanced up at the enormous manor that looked as though it could house all of London. She took Rochford’s arm and tried to keep from trembling. How would she make it through the night? Already her nipples pebbled against her gown from just touching him.
Entering the enormous foyer, Dominic turned to her and helped her out of her cloak. She kept her eyes averted, but she could feel him staring at her. The dress was a daring style—so much so, Arlie could hardly believe when Mrs. Candora had suggested it. The dressmaker finally persuaded Arlie to go with the ball gown of lavender French gauze over a cream silk slip. The squared bodice sat lower than anything Arlie had ever worn before. She felt positively naked without her cloak. She held her breath and turned toward Dominic.
All her fears were put to rest in that moment. Rochford’s gaze moved quickly from the low bodice of the gown to the ankle-length scalloped hem. “Beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thank you,” she replied, enjoying the rare compliment and the stare of appreciation. She knew he usually thought of her as a child, instead of a desirable young woman.
With Rochford’s hand at her back, Arlie stood in the receiving line looking past the others to the open doors of the ballroom where hundreds of people socialized and danced. Three enormous chandeliers hung from the gold-trimmed ceiling on which pictures of cherubs smiled down on the rich and powerful of London.
Never in her life would she have imagined herself in such a setting, rubbing elbows with the ton. Taking in the swell of people, Arlie breathed deeply to calm herself. Rochford had brought her here to find someone suitable for marriage. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. Maybe finding a beau wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe then she would get over this silly obsession with her guardian.
As they approached the host and hostess, she glanced up, and her breath lodged in her throat. Ahead of them in line was the redhead who had been on the balcony with Rochford the other night.
His mistress.
The woman was even more beautiful up close.
The redhead acknowledged Arlie with a sweeping gaze, her green eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the low neckline of Arlie’s gown. She turned her attention to Dominic. Jealousy flashed in the woman’s eyes before she could mask it with lowered lashes and a false smile. Her expression alternated between friendliness and lust. Anyone watching her could surely tell the two were lovers.
The older man at the woman’s side introduced himself as the Duke. The husband of Dominic’s mistress! Arlie’s stomach knotted. Not only was she beautiful, she was a duchess as well.
And an adulteress.
The Duke of Banfield was a kindly man with a quick smile. Arlie could only stand back and watch with fascination as Rochford shook hands heartily with the older man, who beamed at him like a favorite son. Arlie frowned. The man couldn’t possibly know the betrayal taking place right under his nose. If he did, how could he tolerate the deception?
When the Duke took Arlie’s hand, she smiled easily, her heart aching for him. What a fool he would feel if he knew. But Rochford would be careful, discreet.
A sense of relief filled Arlie when they moved toward the ballroom. As Rochford ushered her into the crowd, she refrained from taking his arm, mad at him for cuckolding such a nice man. It didn’t matter that she knew nothing of the Duke, she simply hated infidelity in any way, shape or form, remembering too well her father’s pain at having an unfaithful wife.
A married woman—why did it surprise her so that Rochford would stoop to such a level? The man was notorious; she’d even heard of his reputation in her village, which had always seemed a world away from London.
Knowing she had to spend five days in Rochford’s mistress’s house didn’t help Arlie’s disposition. Had she known then what she did now, she would have told Dominic she wasn’t ready to “come out,” yet here she was in a mess of her own making. She’d wanted to come even knowing that he’d agreed only to find a suitor to take her off his hands.
If he wanted rid of her, then she would look for a man, one who would make her happy…a man who would never stray. A man unlike the deplorable Rochford, who would never be content to spend the rest of his life with one woman.
Schooling her features, she smiled sweetly at the crowd who turned to stare as she and Rochford passed. Her stomach tightened nervously. Never had she seen so many people in one place. It was terrifying and exhilarating but she willed herself to relax, knowing tonight she would make a whole new beginning.
* * * * *
Dominic kept trying to make small talk with Arlie, but she seemed preoccupied. He assumed she would talk to him when she was ready.
For all that he hated to admit it, he was proud to be her guardian. She carried herself with the grace of a princess. Her beauty always stunned him, yet tonight she was breathtaking. The pale hair piled high atop her head had pearls woven throughout and spilled tiny tendrils that framed the delicate features of her face. Her breasts were pushed up so high her nipples were in danger of spilling over the lush lavender bodice. Though she looked incredible in the gown, he wished he would have seen her before they’d left. He would have suggested she wear something a bit more demure.
Now every man within fifty feet stared at her like she was the main course, and it unsettled him, to say the least. Many of the married men gawked at her with lustful eyes, no doubt fantasizing about her becoming their newest mistress. But there were also younger men—good candidates for marriage. He pushed aside the resentment that thought caused, a difficult feat when a group of men in their early twenties bared down on her. He felt Arlie tense at their approach and it was all Dominic could do not to whisk her up in his arms and carry her away…back to the manor, behind closed doors, to where she would be safe from these scoundrels.
Scoundrels like him. What he wouldn’t give to take her into a nearby drawing room, lift her skirts, and fill her with his cock.
With a shake of his head Dominic cleared the i
mage from his mind, and took a step back as Daniel Bryant, a handsome American from a wealthy family, approached Arlie. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Dominic’s eyes narrowed as the man, who still held her hand, introduced himself. Even more discomfiting was Arlie’s expression. She appeared completely besotted with the man. When Daniel took Arlie’s hand and headed for the dance floor where he held her tight, Dominic felt the impulse to follow behind and rip her out of the man’s arms and take her to drawing room, or better yet back home where he would make love to her the entire night. His body tightened imagining her beneath him, her long legs wrapped around his hips as he pounded into her.
The minutes ticked by endlessly, and all the while Arlie’s laughter vibrated in Dominic’s ears. He clenched his teeth together as Daniel twirled her around the dance floor. Other guests watched with a mixture of approval and knowing smiles on their faces. A few acquaintances lifted their glasses in a toast to him, apparently their way of congratulating him for having taken on such a fine, respectable young woman. If they only knew her true background, they would have nothing to do with her. But he could lie with the best of them, and he was prepared to protect her at any cost.
“Dom, your secret is finally out I see.”
Dominic smiled at his friend. “Hello, Langley,” he replied, not taking his gaze off his ward and the too-handsome American. “Yes, I suppose I can thank you for telling her about the ball.”
“You’re very welcome,” Langley replied with a wicked smile.
“Well, what do you think of her?” Dominic asked, nodding toward Arlie. “Or need I ask, since you made a spectacle of yourself by showing up on my doorstep like a lovesick fool.”
Langley had the grace to chuckle. “I think you are either the luckiest bastard in all of England…or the most unfortunate.”
Dominic couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s analysis. “Indeed, I’m beginning to think it’s the latter.”
“You haven’t had her yet?” Langley asked, his voice filled with surprise, his gaze following Arlie around the floor.
Dominic shook his head. “No, and I won’t.”
“You won’t what?”
He knew the familiar voice, not to mention the overpowering perfume of his mistress, the hostess of the ball. He and Veronica had become lovers nearly a year ago, at a party held in honor of her thirtieth birthday. Her aging husband had no idea of his wife’s infidelity, and Dominic had no intention of the older man finding out.
“Tell me what you won’t do. I’m intrigued,” Veronica whispered, throwing Langley a sultry smile.
Langley lifted his brows and said under his breath, “I bid you good luck, dear friend, for I fear you will need it.” A second later he had made his way to the dance floor, conveniently right as the music ended, where he took Arlie off Daniel’s hands.
“Veronica, you look lovely,” Dominic said to his mistress, finding it hard to keep from looking past her shoulder to his ward, who by all appearances seemed to be having the time of her life. Light on her feet, she smiled wide as she went through the steps of the quadrille.
“She is far more beautiful than you said, Dominic. Should I be concerned?”
He grinned and turned to face Veronica. “She is my ward. Plus, I already have a lover…a very hot-blooded woman who keeps me satisfied.” His gaze dropped to her full breasts, the tops of her nipples clearly visible at his height.
“Let’s go outside, Dom. I need you desperately,” she whispered against his ear. “Remember last year in the labyrinth?”
“How could I forget,” he replied, tempted to give her what she wanted, until he saw Langley walking Arlie toward the open doors of the veranda. The bastard! “Perhaps later, darling,” he said, and without a backward glance, headed toward the double doors with every intention of cutting them off.
Dominic made eye contact with no one, not wanting to give his friend a single minute with his ward. He knew Langley far too well. They had spent many a day together, in brothels and beyond, and he knew the man’s voracious appetite for women—especially young, beautiful women. It made no difference that he was engaged or that Arlie was Dominic’s ward. In fact, Langley probably found it even more enticing to see if he could outwit him.
By the time Dominic stepped out on the veranda, he caught sight of lavender skirts disappearing into the labyrinth. He shook his head in disbelief. He’d kill Langley. Knowing the maze well, he cut the pair off in mid-stride.
Langley’s grin quickly faded under Dominic’s scowl. Arlie looked up at him innocently.
“Langley, I’ll speak with you later,” he managed to say without doing his friend physical harm.
Langley let out a heavy sigh. Bowing over Arlie’s hand, he lifted it to his lips. Dominic took a long breath, trying to refrain from pushing Langley out of the way. But the man kept him from doing anything rash when he finally dropped Arlie’s hand and walked off.
Dominic waited a few silent moments in an effort to control his anger. He wasn’t sure who to be mad at; Arlie, Langley…or himself. Taking another deep breath, he said, “Under no circumstance are you to leave the ballroom without a chaperone, or any other room for that matter. I believe we’ve had a similar discussion about chaperones before. You cannot risk having your reputation ruined.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “He’s your friend. I didn’t think…” Her hands moved up and down her arms as her gaze slipped to the ground at his feet, obviously waiting for a lecture.
Dominic could remember his father’s wrath, his lectures, the sting of the belt on his backside for the slightest misdeed. His anger slowly ebbed.
“You’re cold?” he asked, surprised since the night was fairly warm. But then again, he’d been drinking and his temper had flared.
“A little chilled,” she replied, dropping her arms back to her sides. “I guess we should go back. We don’t want to start any gossip.”
Even though the words dripped with sarcasm, Dominic didn’t smile. Didn’t Arlie know it was too late for that? The gossip had started the second they entered the ballroom, and would only gain in momentum with every day that passed. The Earl of Rochford, the guardian of a young beautiful woman unrelated to him? Speculation was already at a fever pitch.
She turned, and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. His gaze fell to her parted lips, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, the sweet smell of her instantly enveloping his senses. She stiffened for a moment, but as his hand caressed her back, she relaxed. She fit so perfectly against him, as though she were made just for him. He told himself he touched her to warm her and for no other reason, yet his body told him he was a liar. Heat filled his veins, racing to his cock. He could take her here and now and no one would be the wiser.
She moaned low in her throat and pressed closer.
He would give anything to make her writhe with passion. “Men like Langley can be dangerous,” he said, the words sounding absurd even to his own ears, especially since his cock strained his breeches.
“He seems innocent enough,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper. “I like him.”
He held her tight for a moment longer before he put her at arm’s length, looking down into her trusting, upturned face. “Langley may appear innocent, but he is anything but.”
The moments ticked by as she stared up at him, her eyes searching his. A man could get lost in those green depths. His gaze shifted to her mouth. He bent his head, she lifted hers—their lips just inches away, so close.
A peal of soft laughter coming their way made him abruptly aware of what he was about to do. His arms dropped to his sides. “We’d better go,” he said, his voice a mixture of anger and regret.
She stared at him, her gaze fastened on his lips before she blinked rapidly. “Yes, we should go.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and started up the walk.
He followed behind her, willing h
is blood to cool and his cock to soften. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. One day someone would hurt her.
He resolved it wouldn’t be him.
Chapter Four
As Dominic entered the ballroom with Arlie on his arm, he could literally feel the excitement of the guests that milled about. “Have a wonderful time,” he told her, releasing her hand. Instantly, men of all ages pounced. The American was at the forefront, but another young man argued that the dance belonged to him. And off Arlie went on the arm of another beau.
Dominic motioned a waiter over and plucked a drink off the man’s tray. He drained it, then grabbed another, his gaze never leaving his ward. The seconds ticked away endlessly, and from the corner of his eye, Dominic could feel someone watching him. He turned, and his gaze locked with his grandmother’s.
It was too late to ignore her and apparently she wouldn’t give him the chance. She walked toward him, her steps slow and somehow regal, despite the fact she leaned heavily on her gold-tipped cane. Dressed in a royal blue gown she’d owned for decades, rings on every finger and heavy diamonds that weighed down her ears, the Dowager Countess of Rochford lifted her chin a good two inches when she stopped before him.
“Dom, I wondered when you would finally arrive.” Her eyes raked him from head to toe. “I knew you would not forego the chance to bed your current paramour under her own roof.”
Ignoring the jibe, Dominic managed a smile. “Grandmother, you are looking quite fetching this evening. How have you been?”