Make Me Love You (28 page)

Brooke quickly took advantage of the momentary distraction to pour herself and Dominic glasses of wine and slip the love potion into his, and not a moment too soon. Matty came back to collect her tray, setting the dishes on the table. She seemed to be in a hurry to get out of there. The guard who was escorting Rory’s mother looked even more wary and quickly closed the door again as soon as she was back outside.

Brooke sat down at the table with Dominic and was delighted to see him drink a good amount of his wine, so she did the same. Not knowing what to expect from him now that he’d imbibed the love potion, and a little nervous because of it, she talked about a dozen different things that were unrelated to their dangerous predicament: the dogs, the horses, his mother’s illness, and the advice Alfreda had given her about how to deal with a variety of serious maladies. “It’s a good thing I still have
all those herbs in my valise. And as soon as we’re done eating, I can nap blissfully unconcerned, confident that you’ll keep us from any harm tonight. You
are
quite a big man, you know, much bigger than anyone here.”

“You sound like a babbling brook.”

She gasped. “Don’t you dare pun on my name.”

“I believe I will dare anything I like.” He grinned. “I have a dagger in my boot. I’m amazed they didn’t search me for a weapon, but I never leave home without it—just in case I run into your brother when no one else is around.”

She rolled her eyes at him as she shrugged out of her pelisse and wondered why he hadn’t noticed how warm the room had become. She couldn’t seem to get her eyes off his mouth, either, and that led to some vivid thoughts as she remembered how it had felt the last time he kissed her. When she looked at his hands, she imagined how they would feel caressing her breasts. He must be thinking the same thing by now. Why wasn’t he carrying her to the bed?

Instead he continued, “And you have reminded me that I am quite capable of taking on a dozen ruffians. We will be fine. If we get caught escaping, I’ll dispose of them quietly.”

She giggled, then gasped that she’d done that and jumped up. “I’m so tired!”

“Then get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

That had been a hint for him to join her, but obviously not a good one. She couldn’t get those sensual thoughts out of her head, was afraid she might scream if he didn’t start kissing her soon. She weaved her way to the bed.

“I think you had too much wine.”

“Possibly,” she mumbled, and started undressing.

She didn’t even realize that she’d thoughtlessly taken off her
dress along with her shoes and stockings until she heard him groan as she crawled across the soft quilt. But she complained, “It’s hot. Aren’t you hot?”

She lay down, but then leaned up on her elbows and saw that he looked a little more than surprised, or was he finally reacting to the wine? “I wanted to thank you for Storm, but mostly, for protecting me today.”

He raised a curious brow at her. “Thank me how?”

His tone was teasing. She locked her eyes with his and patted the bed next to her. He drew in his breath sharply, but was already walking toward the bed. He lay down next to her and put his hand on her bare arm, moving it up toward her shoulder in a slow caress. “Are you sure?”

She wasn’t sure about a single thing in that breathless moment—except that she wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. The leap of her pulse, the rolling inside her that felt so odd, the forgetting to breathe, it was all there to overwhelm her. She answered him by pulling his head down to hers until their lips met.

The touch was exquisite, so soft, pulling her into the kiss with finesse and an unspoken promise. A foray of his tongue, teasing her lips, licking them. She hoped the kiss would escalate to the passion he’d displayed before. She was quite frantic for it, which was why a few moments later, she did the escalating herself, putting a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him closer, much more impatient than she ought to be.

She sensed the passion was there, but he was trying to contain it, and she wasn’t sure why, unless—had she drunk from the wrong glass?! It didn’t matter, nothing mattered except the urgency racing through her, which was heightened by his every touch. The scrape of his teeth on her neck, followed by the
softest kiss to the same spot. One deep, swift kiss, followed by the gentle touch of fingers moving over every part of her face. It was driving her crazy!

She finally gripped his cheeks to keep his mouth on hers, her passion escalating beyond reason. But he countered that by flipping her over to her stomach, leaning against her back to keep her there, his breath hot on the back of her ear when he said, “Slowly. We have hours.”

No, they didn’t! They could be interrupted again, the opportunity gone, possibly forever. They weren’t exactly behind locked doors just then—well, they were, but they couldn’t get out and other people could come in! But she didn’t say all that, she was too arrested by what Dominic was doing to her.

Goose bumps spread down her back from the brief kisses he was giving her there. She didn’t realize he’d shed his own clothes until she was on her back again and his kisses were no longer soft and slow. Passion unchecked, she was fully caught up in that storm. She thought he was, too, until he leaned back and she saw in his golden eyes that he wasn’t going to make love to her there in that little hut. A gentleman after all? Did he think she needed rose petals and soft sheets? She’d been reared by a woman of nature to appreciate nature and enjoy the simple things in life—a swift horse under her, the sun on her face, the wind in her hair, the scent of crushed herbs—and she could add, now, the gentle touch of a man, this man.

She put a hand to his cheek and with the boldness that had overcome her said, “If you think we aren’t going to be interrupted, I would like to feel you on top of me—inside me. Please don’t stop, not when we’re both caught up in this primal storm.”

He drew in his breath sharply yet again before a smile
slowly curved his lips. Good God, how did that smile make him even more handsome?

She didn’t care if she’d just shocked him. She just wanted to feel his weight on her, taste his skin, know the joy of making him hers. She slid her hands over his bare shoulders, dragged her nails gently up his back. He easily removed her camisole, completely baring her breasts to his eyes, then his hands, then his mouth, driving her even wilder for him, if that was possible. She easily pulled off the tie that queued his hair, so she could feel his hair on her skin. She wasn’t sure if she got more pleasure from the way he touched her breasts, or the way he admired how plump they were. No, his mouth on them was definitely the best.

Small gasps escaped her as little shocks sparked her pleasure. He seemed to be finding every bit of sensitive skin she possessed, in places she wouldn’t have thought could be erogenous—the back of her knees, the tips of her fingers when he sucked on them, behind her neck, places she could touch with no such results. So it was him, only him, or just part of her mounting excitement, possibly that.

He did need to remove her pantaloons, which was not so easily done. She thought he might rip them off when he couldn’t find the ties, so she helped, even lifted her hips to make it easier for him. Even that was a caress, the way he did it, his hands on her skin as he pushed the thin stockinette down her legs, over her ankles, then brought a hand slowly back up her bare legs. But the finger he slipped inside her as he reached the junction was electrifying, like nothing she’d ever felt. She let out a sharp gasp as pleasure set her blood racing. She found it incredible that this wasn’t even the half of it. If this got even better, she might get addicted.

Like a cat, she wanted to rub her body against him, but settled for wrapping her legs around his hips as his hands and mouth moved back up her body, trapping him right where she wanted him. When his mouth came back to hers, she didn’t know he was poised to claim her. It was sharp, swift, her surprised cry caught in his mouth. She definitely didn’t like that part, almost pushed him away until she remembered she should have expected that pain and might thank him instead for dealing with it so quickly, especially since it was gone just as swiftly, leaving that glorious feeling of him filling her—and something else. It built, it exploded, ecstasy washing over her. And he hadn’t moved yet! The most amazing, delicious sensations flooded her, pulsed around him. He was even looking down at her incredulously. Toes curled, she almost purred.

She couldn’t help smiling. He was still looking down at her when a few sweet thrusts brought his own climax. It was amazing to watch. But he collapsed on her then. Her smile broadened. Her hands ran through his hair. She might not mind sleeping like this if they ever got to sleep again.

She pushed away a nasty thought that the danger might not be over and wouldn’t be until they were far from this camp. But for the moment she was in a different sort of heaven and wanted to savor every second of it. He seemed to be, too, at least he didn’t get off the bed. She was much too languorous to remind him about the vigil he’d intended to keep before she’d distracted him with her invitation. She didn’t even blush about that, just drifted blissfully off to sleep.

S
HE WAS BLUSHING NOW!
Dominic was swearing at the sunlight coming in through the windows. They’d both slept through the night, their opportunity to escape gone because she’d invited him to make love to her. He got out of bed and retrieved his clothes. She found the tie for his hair, which she’d removed last night, on the mattress and waved it at him.

Taking it from her, all he said was “I keep Storm for Wolf.”

She frowned slightly, trying to think why he would say that now, then recalled her thanking him for letting
her
keep Storm. She burst out laughing. He grinned as well. She realized that she must be getting quite used to him if she could laugh spontaneously like that. And he must be getting used to her if he could tease her like that. Her plan to make him love her—eventually—was starting to work, but was she getting caught in the same snare?

Dressed again in all but her pelisse, Brooke had the amusing thought that Regency fashion must have been designed for lovers who grabbed stolen moments. It definitely made it easy
to disrobe quickly and re-dress nearly as quickly. She thought about sharing the thought with Dominic, but he was looking quite serious again because they would soon find out if they would be back on their way to London today or never reach it.

Yet she had such confidence that he would handle whatever came their way. She hadn’t been joking about that. His size, his quick responses, the way he was preparing ahead for any possibility, it was reassuring even if it didn’t remove all of her worry. But that left her mind free to worry over what they’d done instead, or what
she’d
done. If he mentioned it, she would likely go up in flames.

Now that the effects of the love potion had worn off, she was feeling utterly shy about it. She didn’t expect Dominic’s attitude toward her to change, but she did expect him to stop trying to push her out the door. They weren’t suddenly happy young lovers eager to get their hands on each other. Then she had the most horrid thought—that his payback for what Robert had done could be tit for tat, to get her pregnant and
not
marry her. Well, that would be justice served in her mind, but probably not his, so it was a ridiculous thought.

But he
would
marry her now. That doubt was completely gone. As he’d said before, he wouldn’t mind her in his bed—which was proven last night. His attitude toward her out of bed was still in question though. Would his animosity miraculously go away, or did she still have to whittle away at it?

She wouldn’t have that answer until after their vows were spoken next Sunday. She just didn’t have much hope that the marriage would make that much difference, at least not anytime soon. And he did warn her the other night when they’d been kissing in those ruins that making love with her wasn’t going to magically make him love her. So it could still take
years to develop closeness with this man—if it was even possible. She reminded herself that friends before happy spouses was still a good plan for her to work on.

She still hadn’t figured out how she was going to accomplish that other than that she needed to offer him something that would please him, something he wasn’t expecting, and not her body, which he could have anytime he wanted. Something else that could form a bond between them. A mystery to unravel? If she could find one. A mutual goal such as horse breeding? No, that was to her benefit, not his. It had to be something
he
would want and she might not like, so he’d know that she was willing to sacrifice for him. She supposed she could offer to poison her brother. . . .

She almost laughed aloud, aware that he would probably jump on that offer, but she’d never make it. She wasn’t poisoning anyone, even her despicable brother. And all of which depended on whether they would leave this highwaymen’s camp today—alive.