Read Online The Dragon Lord by Connie Mason - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Connie Mason
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time at the altar. Why should you be any different?”
Rose sat up and pulled the bed covering up to her chin. “You do not want me any more than I want you. You said so yourself.”
Dominic made a dismissive motion with his hand. “What is done is done. Besides,” he said, reaching beneath the covers to caress her breast,” ‘tis my duty to consummate this marriage.”
“Not tonight,” Rose persisted, shoving his hand away. “Mayhap not ever.”
Dominic rolled away from her and landed on his feet.“Have it your way, lady. You are right. You are not the woman I want. The woman I want resides in London. I have never had to force a woman and do not intend to start now. But one day, I vow I will have you beneath me, and though it will be an effort to make my cock rise to the occasion, I will do my best to do my duty by you.”
Turning on his heel, he stormed from the chamber.
* * *
The relief Rose felt was not nearly as powerful as another emotion raging through her. The merciless Lord. Dragon had torn her pride to shreds. Obviously, he could stand her no more than she could tolerate him. There was only one reason he would condescend to consummate their marriage—to keep Dragonwyck and to get an heir. What really galled her was the knowledge that he would be thinking of another woman while bedding her.
She touched her lips. His kisses had seemed genuine enough, but a man with Dragon’s experience could charm a woman into believing anything. Nay, Dragon wanted her not; he had made that abundantly clear.
Dominic’s angry steps carried him back to the great hall. How could he let the termagant get under his skin? Why should he desire a woman who wanted naught to do with him? He had been tricked into wedding a woman whose disposition was as sour as bitter wine. Few men would tolerate a sharp-tongued wife. Rose deserved a good beating, but despite his reputation as a fierce warrior, Dominic had little inclination to administer it.
He sprawled in his chair and watched the flames turn to ashes in the hearth. The chamber was growing cold, and Dominic spit out a curse. What was he doing down here when a warm bed awaited him in the solar? He had no intention of spending another night sleeping in a chair before a dying fire. Only a fool or a coward would let his lawful wife ban him from his rightful place in her bed. His anger returned with a vengeance.
Had the servants been present to see the ferocious scowl on Dominic’s face when he shoved himself to his feet and strode from the hall, they would have avoided him at all cost.
A muscle flexed in Dominic’s jaw as he marched resolutely toward the solar and burst into the sitting room. A half dozen long strides took him to the bedchamber door. He flung it open and stepped inside. The candle he had lit earlier had burned down to a stub, but he saw the bed and Rose’s outline beneath the covers clearly enough. Without breaking stride, he approached the bed.
Rose was sleeping; she did not move despite the fact that he made little effort to be quiet. For one unsettling moment he wondered if she had cried herself to sleep. It should not matter to him, but for some unexplained reason it did. He was not completely lacking in compassion. He would feel just as Rose did if the king had executed his father. Too bad Lord Edwyn had not thought of his family when he committed treason.
Dominic began shedding his clothing, tossing his tunic, hose, braies and boots carelessly aside. Then he raised a comer of the covers and slid into bed beside Rose. The ropes protested the extra weight, but Rose did not stir when he took her into his arms. Warmth surrounded him. An irresistible aura of clean, sweet-smelling innocence enveloped him. His arms tightened. He could not remember feeling this possessive of anyone… including Veronica.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Veronica had aroused him to extraordinary passion and satisfied him sexually, but not once had he
Rose sat up and pulled the bed covering up to her chin. “You do not want me any more than I want you. You said so yourself.”
Dominic made a dismissive motion with his hand. “What is done is done. Besides,” he said, reaching beneath the covers to caress her breast,” ‘tis my duty to consummate this marriage.”
“Not tonight,” Rose persisted, shoving his hand away. “Mayhap not ever.”
Dominic rolled away from her and landed on his feet.“Have it your way, lady. You are right. You are not the woman I want. The woman I want resides in London. I have never had to force a woman and do not intend to start now. But one day, I vow I will have you beneath me, and though it will be an effort to make my cock rise to the occasion, I will do my best to do my duty by you.”
Turning on his heel, he stormed from the chamber.
* * *
The relief Rose felt was not nearly as powerful as another emotion raging through her. The merciless Lord. Dragon had torn her pride to shreds. Obviously, he could stand her no more than she could tolerate him. There was only one reason he would condescend to consummate their marriage—to keep Dragonwyck and to get an heir. What really galled her was the knowledge that he would be thinking of another woman while bedding her.
She touched her lips. His kisses had seemed genuine enough, but a man with Dragon’s experience could charm a woman into believing anything. Nay, Dragon wanted her not; he had made that abundantly clear.
Dominic’s angry steps carried him back to the great hall. How could he let the termagant get under his skin? Why should he desire a woman who wanted naught to do with him? He had been tricked into wedding a woman whose disposition was as sour as bitter wine. Few men would tolerate a sharp-tongued wife. Rose deserved a good beating, but despite his reputation as a fierce warrior, Dominic had little inclination to administer it.
He sprawled in his chair and watched the flames turn to ashes in the hearth. The chamber was growing cold, and Dominic spit out a curse. What was he doing down here when a warm bed awaited him in the solar? He had no intention of spending another night sleeping in a chair before a dying fire. Only a fool or a coward would let his lawful wife ban him from his rightful place in her bed. His anger returned with a vengeance.
Had the servants been present to see the ferocious scowl on Dominic’s face when he shoved himself to his feet and strode from the hall, they would have avoided him at all cost.
A muscle flexed in Dominic’s jaw as he marched resolutely toward the solar and burst into the sitting room. A half dozen long strides took him to the bedchamber door. He flung it open and stepped inside. The candle he had lit earlier had burned down to a stub, but he saw the bed and Rose’s outline beneath the covers clearly enough. Without breaking stride, he approached the bed.
Rose was sleeping; she did not move despite the fact that he made little effort to be quiet. For one unsettling moment he wondered if she had cried herself to sleep. It should not matter to him, but for some unexplained reason it did. He was not completely lacking in compassion. He would feel just as Rose did if the king had executed his father. Too bad Lord Edwyn had not thought of his family when he committed treason.
Dominic began shedding his clothing, tossing his tunic, hose, braies and boots carelessly aside. Then he raised a comer of the covers and slid into bed beside Rose. The ropes protested the extra weight, but Rose did not stir when he took her into his arms. Warmth surrounded him. An irresistible aura of clean, sweet-smelling innocence enveloped him. His arms tightened. He could not remember feeling this possessive of anyone… including Veronica.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Veronica had aroused him to extraordinary passion and satisfied him sexually, but not once had he
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