Dangerous Desires Page 8

  She shrugged. “No, but as you’ve said before, you’ve probably tired of the things that I find exciting, only because you have experienced so much more.”

  He stared at her, wondering if she was teasing him, but her gaze never faltered. “What would you have had me dress as?” he asked, curious of her thoughts.

  “You would be a black prince,” she said, her lips curving into a devastating smile that showed her adorable dimples.

  “The black prince in your dreams?” His voice sounded low and husky to his own ears.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “The very one. When I first saw you, I thought that’s who you were. My prince, dressed all in black, come to take me away. So elegant with your long black coat, coming out of the storm. Your black hair slicked back from your chiseled face, and that lion on your finger, its ruby eyes staring at me from across the room, hypnotizing me.” Whether she did it self-consciously or not, Arlie’s fingers grazed the ring he still wore on the middle finger of his left hand—a gift from his grandmother on his eighteenth birthday.

  Her words were fanciful, yet he felt them all the way to his bones. He was her black prince? He could not deny the delight her words brought him.

  “I thought you asleep that night.” He pulled her tighter to him, needing to feel her soft curves against him. He glanced down and could see her stiff nipples against the soft thin fabric of her gown. He ached to fill his palm with a firm breast, to lave the nipple with his tongue until she groaned low in her throat, begging him for release.

  “I watched you under lowered lids. You looked at me once, but I closed my eyes. I tried to stay awake, but I fell asleep to the sound of your voice, and after that day, I dreamed of you nearly every night.”

  “You said that the dreams stopped in time.”

  Her gaze shifted to his chest. “I stopped believing in dreams long ago.”

  “And now?”

  She looked at him once again, and the desire in her eyes took his breath away. “I believe that dreams are images we create to escape from real life.”

  Those were not the words he wanted to hear. He wanted her to say she believed in love, that she believed her black prince would sweep her off her feet and make her infinitely happy. But she did not, and there was no more time to speak of such things. The music had stopped, and her anxious suitor waited eagerly to claim her.

  Dominic turned to the young American, and with smile firmly in place, nodded. Daniel took Arlie’s hand, and off they went.

  Watching the two, Dominic noticed with annoyance how perfectly suited they seemed. Taking a glass of wine from a side table, he drained it in a single motion, and resisted the urge to crush the crystal in his fist when Daniel pulled Arlie even closer.

  Throughout the night, Daniel stayed at Arlie’s side, playing the ardent suitor to perfection. With trepidation Dominic realized his ward was slowly slipping through his fingers, and he could do nothing but stand by and watch.

  As Daniel walked Arlie out onto the veranda, Dominic instinctively headed in that direction. Nearly to the doors, he stopped in mid-stride. He could not watch her every move. He had to allow what was going to happen, to happen.

  They would all be better off for it. She would marry, and he would go on as usual.

  For some reason the future seemed so incredibly bleak.

  As the minutes ticked away, Dominic drained three glasses of port, and was working on his fourth when Arlie stepped back inside with Daniel. The American walked off, and before Dominic could have a word with Arlie, another man asked her to dance. Daniel came back to where Arlie had been, a glass of punch in hand, looking disgruntled when he found Arlie on the dance floor with another man.

  Someone tapped on his shoulder and Dominic turned. His grandmother smiled up at him. “Your ward has made quite a name for herself, has she not?”

  “Indeed she has,” he agreed, stilling himself for a lecture.

  “Arlie and Mr. Butler make a pleasing couple, don’t you think?”

  He nodded.

  “Already word is circulating that the two will become engaged before the end of the season.” She tilted her head in contemplation. “I wonder, will they be right?”

  “It is much too soon for her to consider any beau. She has only just entered Society.”

  “Could it be that you have a soft spot in your heart for the young woman yourself, Dom? I’ve been watching you, and I’ve noticed that you seem…uncomfortable when she is with Mr. Butler.”

  “I am only concerned about her welfare. She is young and knows little about the world. And in case you’ve forgotten, I am her guardian.”

  His grandmother’s knowing smile set his teeth on edge.

  “I believe she knows much more than she lets out. I had the opportunity to meet her the other day, and she is quite charming. She will make Mr. Butler a fine wife. I can just envision what attractive children they will have.”

  Dominic bit back a curse as an image of Arlie beneath Daniel Butler came to mind.

  “Well, I’ve had a most tiring day, and I must get my rest. I will see you on the morrow.”

  “I bid you goodnight, Grandmother,” he said to her back as she walked away.

  As the night progressed, his grandmother’s words came back to haunt him time and again. Obviously everyone thought Arlie and Daniel would end up together. Even a few of the beaux who had been in the running early on in the party now bowed out, having come to the conclusion that Arlie had chosen Daniel.

  Was Daniel Arlie’s choice? Did she desire the American? The thought twisted in his gut like a knife. Now as he watched her dance with Daniel, he saw what everyone else saw; a young couple who fit perfectly together. Arlie looked happy, her smile radiant. Dominic realized in that instant that she was well on her way to getting the young man she clearly coveted.

  He forced his gaze away from his ward, and looked across the way at his mistress who stood beside her husband. As though sensing his perusal, she glanced up and met his smile. She lifted her brows, and he immediately caught her meaning.

  And he thought, What the hell? What better way of forgetting the desire he felt for his ward than with a night of mindless fornication with his more than willing mistress?

  Chapter Six

  Even though Arlie was dancing with Daniel, she didn’t miss the silent communication going on between Dominic and Veronica. The two were across the room from each other one minute, the next they both exited from opposite doors.

  Jealousy ate at Arlie’s insides, and though she knew she had no right to feel such an emotion, she did—with a vengeance. She knew where they would go, what they would do. An image of the two making love burned in her mind, torturing her, reminding her that she would never experience the pleasure of being in Dominic’s arms.

  Obviously Dominic felt he had done his duty by her. He usually watched her like a hawk, but now he had left her alone, without a chaperone.

  When the dance ended Daniel excused himself and Arlie took the opportunity to slip away. Running up the stairs, she tiptoed past Dominic’s room, then entered hers, telling herself she was there only to freshen up. Instead of refreshing herself, she pressed her ear against the wall. The minutes ticked by and she heard nothing. It was too quiet.

  She left her room and walked down the hall, brow furrowed into a frown. Why was she acting like a lovesick fool? She should go back to the party, have a good time, and forget about Dominic. He was a grown man with a voracious appetite for women. She could do nothing to change that fact. To pursue the infatuation was asking for her own destruction.

  Arlie rejoined the party, but she could not enjoy herself. Her traitorous thoughts returned to Dominic and what he was doing with Veronica.

  By midnight Arlie was emotionally exhausted and she allowed Daniel to escort her to her room.

  She opened the door a fraction, and looked up to find Daniel smiling down at her. “I bid you goodnight, Miss Whitman. I look forward to your company tomorrow.”

 
; “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” she replied, ready to shut the door behind her when his hand braced it open.

  “Could I have a goodnight kiss?”

  Surprised by his request, she quickly nodded and closed her eyes. A second later his dry lips touched hers. Disappointment washed over her in waves, and she opened her eyes to find Daniel looking down at her, a look of pure wanting on his face. “Well, good night then.”

  Daniel grinned. “I can scarcely wait until tomorrow.”

  “Good night,” she said again, glancing at his arm that still braced against the doorframe. He dropped the arm to his side and took a step back. Arlie shut the door and rested her forehead against the hard surface. She locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief having heard Daniel’s departure. “Thank God,” she said, kicking off her slippers. She turned, lifted her skirts, and bent over to remove her stockings.

  “You’re retiring early.”

  She jerked upright, her gaze moving to the dark corner where Dominic was sitting in a chair.

  “Rochford!” Her hand went to her pounding heart. “I couldn’t find you.”

  He said nothing. He just stared at her for a few unsettling moments. When he did speak, his voice was low. “I took a walk. Then I came back to my room, but when I couldn’t sleep I thought I’d wait for you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  She shrugged. “Actually I had been enjoying myself, but when you left, I went looking for you. I thought you had gone with Veronica, but then she came back.”

  “Was that Daniel who asked for a kiss?”

  “Of course!”

  Again, he said nothing, and as the seconds ticked into minutes she began to feel uncomfortable. Had it been a mistake to tell him she’d been looking for him? What must he think? Oh, how she wished he’d say something.

  Sitting down on the bed, directly across from where he sat, she took the pins from her hair. “Do you love her?” she asked, unable to help herself.

  His eyes followed her movements. When she finished, he smiled. “Do I love who?”

  “The Duchess…your mistress.”

  He laughed without humor. “No, I don’t love her. For a long time I lusted after her, but I find lately that I’ve grown tired of her.”

  “Yet you were with her tonight?”

  A dark brow lifted, and the smile on his face turned wicked. “No, I was not. At least not in the way you’re implying.”

  She let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding. “But you left together.”

  He came quickly to his feet, making her heart leap. As he walked into the light, she noticed how tired he looked. She wanted desperately to comfort him.

  “Do you want to know why I wasn’t with her?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t with her because I want someone else. I yearn for the touch of her, yet I know it isn’t right.”

  The pulse in Arlie’s neck quickened as he took another step toward her. She had to bend her neck to look up at him. “Does she know this?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  The side of his mouth lifted at the same time his hand reached out to lift a lock of hair from her shoulder. He wound it around his finger, then placed it against the swell of her breast. His finger lingered for a moment, barely touching her sensitive skin, but she felt that touch all the way to her soul. “I’m telling her now.”

  He wanted her?

  Arlie swallowed hard as she watched him watching her, obviously waiting for her reaction. His nearness kindled a desire that warmed her blood. Standing, she went on the tips of her toes and kissed him lightly. He didn’t move, and she felt a blush race up her neck to her cheeks. Her embarrassment was forgotten a second later when he pulled her against his hard body and his mouth covered hers.

  The kiss was slow, thoughtful one moment, the next almost savage in its intensity. His hands explored the soft lines of her back—her waist, her hips. She moaned softly when his lips left hers and traced a line down her throat to the swell of her breasts. Her nipples tightened. Liquid fire raced through her veins, down low into her belly, making her ache for what only he could give her.

  “It’s wrong these feelings I have for you,” he whispered against her overly sensitive flesh. “I want you desperately, yet I know it’s not right.”

  “Why is it so wrong?” she asked breathlessly, feeling disconnected from herself. All these new sensations—her body felt like it had a will of its own.

  “You’re my ward. I should be protecting you against men like me. You deserve a husband.”

  The words were like a dash of cold water to her face. The fire she had felt but a moment ago began to ebb as his meaning became clear. He wanted a single night of passion. It would cost him some of his conscience, but it would cost her virginity…and the chance of gaining a man who would actually marry her.

  She abruptly stepped away from him. The back of her legs hit the bed, nearly knocking her off-balance. “I cannot give up my virginity for only one night,” she said in a resigned voice.

  His dark, seductive stare pinned her to the spot. “I want you.”

  “I want you, too,” she said hesitantly, noticing the side of his mouth lift. “Yet I cannot surrender everything and gain nothing.”

  As he stared at her, she saw many emotions play over his face, most of all regret. He nodded and took a step away from her. She felt it like a hard blow to her stomach.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them a second later. “Good night, sweet Arlie.”

  Then he was gone, just like that.

  * * * * *

  The day dawned gray and cold, matching Arlie’s mood perfectly. For hours now she had lain awake staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sound of others, but it seemed only she could not sleep

  The entire night she had tossed and turned, all the while wondering where Dominic was—or more importantly, with whom he had spent the night.

  Several times she’d been tempted to go to his room to talk about what had happened between them. Always, she talked herself out of it, knowing it would only cause them both pain in the end.

  But with the dawning of a new day, Arlie was desperate to speak with him. After all, they would be returning to Rochford Manor and things could not stay as they were between them.

  She dressed and went to his room, determined to set things right. How she would accomplish that task, she wasn’t certain, but it had to be done—she felt too wretched to leave things as they were.

  Her knuckle almost grazed the hard door when she looked down and saw a key in the lock. Should she dare open it without knocking first, she wondered, glancing down the long hallway. Seeing it clear, she grabbed the handle and turned it. A sliver of light shone through the sheer curtains falling on the figure of her guardian, sprawled on silk sheets. At his side, the Duchess. Her long auburn hair fell across their naked bodies like a voluminous cloud. The sheets wrapped around their hips, the Duchess’ ample bosom cradled against Dominic’s strong chest.

  Arlie swallowed a scream. How dare he come to her last night professing desire, and the next make love to the very woman he professed not to love—a married woman whose husband slept in another wing, who no doubt expected his wife to be asleep in her quarters.

  How tempted she was to slam the door and wake them. Unable to stand the sight any longer, Arlie closed the door behind her and went downstairs.

  She passed servants on her way out the front door. She walked down the long drive, her strides determined, her jaw set, while swiping at the tears that burned a path down her cheek. Why was she so upset? Last night he had told her he wanted her, and she had been the one to send him away by saying she expected marriage. What man wouldn’t run?

  Daniel. Daniel was the kind of man who would respect her. Daniel was the kind
of man who would actually marry her.

  Daniel was not anything like Dominic.

  And at this moment you could be in Dominic’s bed, her traitorous mind taunted. Right this moment she could be in Dominic’s arms. If she had said nothing she would have experienced true bliss, but no, she said she wanted marriage, and that single statement had ruined everything. The knowledge was so sobering she stopped in mid-stride. What did she think she was going to do? Walk all the way back to London? What would everyone say once she came up missing, her clothes in her room, no note. She sighed heavily. She would not wallow in self-pity like the child Dominic thought she was. She lifted her chin. She was a woman, and she’d better start proving it to all of them.

  She would have to grin and bear it. Lifting her chin, Arlie returned to the house, resolved to move forward with her life.

  She made the mistake of looking up at the window where Dominic slept, and she wavered on her feet. She had no mind to sit in her room and listen to the sounds of Dominic and Veronica stirring. Instead she walked to the private garden, opened the iron gate, and took a seat on a stone bench, staring at nothing.

  “Child, why do you look so down this morning?”

  Arlie glanced up to find the dowager looking at her.

  “May I?” the older lady said, pointing to the bench.

  “Please, “Arlie replied, patting the place beside her.

  The dowager sat down, and turned to Arlie with a smile. “You look tired, my child.”

  “I did not sleep very well.” She found it difficult to remain indifferent in front of the older woman. The dowager had become a dear friend these past few days, and aside from Daniel and Langley, she felt she hadn’t another friend in the world. But she could not tell the dowager of her feelings toward Dominic. She would probably give her a good set-down and remind her that Dominic would marry someone of the gentry, someone of his own station, and that she would be better suited for someone like Daniel, an American man with money who could offer a good life.

  “I have not seen my grandson this morning. Have you, Miss Whitman?”