Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(15)

Slowly, Isabelle raised her eyes level with his.

“You will never disrespect me in front of the men again. If you do, it won’t be whores they’ll be spending their evenings entertaining, do I make myself clear?”

Was he suggesting he would give them use of her? Outraged, she pushed at his chest. “No, you do not make yourself clear! How could you even suggest such a thing? You would throw your virgin wife into the clutches of your crew? Without a second thought? Does my presence repulse you that much, my lord?”

A smile cracked at the corners of Dominique’s mouth, and his blue eyes looked almost cheerful. “Repulse me?” His hand reached around her neck, drawing her face closer to his. “Hmm, if this is repulsion, I find myself in agreement with your statement.” His lips descended, raining feather-light kisses along her brow before pushing her against the wall behind her. “What’s mine is mine, beauty. Although your assumptions amuse me, I feel the need to correct you.” His teeth nipped her ear as he whispered, “I meant they would be spending their nights entertaining us with dinner and music, not with my beautiful wife. After all, I have quite a talented group of men aboard this ship. I understand you wouldn’t be aware of such things, considering you are so talented at jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

Unable to speak, she nodded as his hot breath tickled the inside of her ear and his teeth nibbled again. “Now, would you please, yes I said please—and you don’t have to go stiff as a board underneath my touch when I show manners—return to Miss Ward and notify her of our arrival.”

Isabelle nodded her head.

Dominique released her and stepped away. Thinking she was free to go, she made haste in removing herself from his presence, but his hand leapt out and caught her wrist, pulling her back firmly against her chest.

“I do not share,” he barked, then aggressively turned her to face him and took possession of her mouth. His tongue bewitched hers as he drew her mouth open. He grasped her hands within his, pulling her arms around his neck. She fought against his grip and tried to pull away. But he caught her lip between his teeth. The sharp pain made her gasp and then his tongue grazed her tortured lips, plunging her into oblivion. His mouth covered hers and made her so weak, she had no choice but to hang on to him. Her hands gripped his hair. He moaned into her mouth, his tongue arching against hers with such fervor, such passion, that she could do nothing more but grasp at his jacket for balance. As abruptly as the kiss started, he ended it and pushed her away, nearly sending her tumbling.

“Be gone,” he said softly and turned to walk in the other direction.

****

Horrible liar that he was, Dominique had been grasping at any sort of excuse he could find for his wretched behavior. Truthfully, he had said those words about throwing his wife into the clutches of the sailors without thinking. Apparently another side effect of being with the chit. He was starting to care about hurting her feelings. It was becoming more difficult to be cross when all he wanted to do was ravish her where she stood.

Confusion blurred his thoughts. The trip to the first coaching inn was going by faster than he expected. It was, however, helpful that Isabelle had been asleep most the journey so he was able to try to gather his thoughts as well as resolve not to touch her once they were again alone.

Hunter found the entire situation most amusing. Unfortunately, he had chosen to ride in the carriage rather than use one of the horses, saying that his back had a dreadful ache that riding in the carriage would surely fix.

But what he meant was, his back ached and the only remedy was sitting next to Isabelle and irritating the devil out of Dominique each time he leaned in and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, like the true wolf he was.

“If you value that nose of yours, cease from sniffing my wife.” Dominique groaned and looked around the carriage for something to hit. Something that wouldn’t give his friend a bloody nose or a bruised eye.

Hunter just chuckled and crossed his arms. “I’m here to help you, friend, not steal your lady, though the idea of it seems rather exciting. In her current state, it would be too easy and you know how much I enjoy the chase.”

Yes, Dominique knew his friend's secret past. It seemed the very goodness that made Hunter a loyal spy still wasn’t enough to blot out the darkness that often made itself known within the man. As a friend he was irreplaceable, as a spy he was the best London had to offer, but as a foe, he would be deadly.

“Control your urges, Hunter.”

“Fine.” He sighed heavily. “I still don’t know what else you expect me to do.”

“Help.” Dominique looked out the window at the passing trees. “Support. The usual. I need to know her character. I need to see that she is safe, well, healthy. But I refuse to be the one who looks after her. I cannot allow myself to grow—”

“Close,” Hunter finished knowingly.

Dominique shifted. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see to the woman without crossing his own emotional boundaries, never mind the physical ones. He couldn’t see straight when his physical needs were present along with Isabelle. But Hunter, he trusted. His friend would be sure that Isabelle was well-received within the staff, was happy, could find enough to occupy her time, and in the end that she would feel grateful for her position as a Russian princess and English countess.

So lost in thought was Dominique that when the carriage pulled to a stop, he jumped. Isabelle’s eyes slowly opened. “Get up.” He tried not to issue orders this time, softening his voice as he commanded.