Make Me Love You

  “You prattle too much, Doctor,” he said sarcastically. “Do what you will, then go.”

  She gritted her teeth until she realized he was probably in pain again. Pain and testiness seemed to go hand in hand for him.

  “If you wouldn’t mind?” she said neutrally, indicating his bandage.

  “You may.”

  He’d always unwrapped the bandage himself—until now. Contrariness just got added to the mix. And he was pretty much sitting on the bandage. How was she supposed to unwrap it?

  That question was answered when he stood up on his right foot, putting no weight on his injured leg. She quickly bent down and unwrapped the cloth before he changed his mind and made the task more difficult for her. The bandage only stuck a tiny bit to the wound before the last strip fell away.

  After examining the wound and the stitches, she was pleased. “Good. There’s no redness or swelling. It appears that last night’s adventure didn’t hurt you.”

  “That’s debatable. My shoulder is extremely sore from sleeping on the stone floor.”

  Brooke ignored that. “Unless you’re going to dress again, you can leave the bandage off. The air will allow the scab to harden.”

  She stood and picked up the red pouch of herbs she’d left on his night table and put it in her pocket. He no longer needed it. Then she picked up the blue pouch.

  “I advise you to still rest your wounded leg a few hours each day.” She handed him the blue pouch. “And you can sprinkle these ground herbs over the scab when you do. They will help you mend more quickly. If you’re going to dress in your normal trousers, though, you should bandage the area first. And don’t submerge your wound in bathwater just yet. Partial baths will do.”

  “You’re implying I stink again?”

  He didn’t. She knew because she’d spent the night beside him. To avoid an argument she decided not to say another word. She turned, about to leave.

  “You can do it.”

  She glanced back to see him sitting on the edge of the bed again and shrugging out of his shirt. “Do what?”

  “Bathe me.”

  She turned around slowly. Color was already brightening her cheeks, but she managed to say, “No, I—I’m afraid my benevolence doesn’t extend that far—unless, of course, you are prepared to marry me today?”

  She thought that would settle the matter nicely until he replied, “You have wormed your way into my bedroom repeatedly with the excuse that it’s already your duty to assist me. So you can’t quibble over what sort of assistance your duty entails.”

  She could, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. He was making another of his points, showing her how much she would dislike living with him, reminding her that he’d always make some sort of unpleasant demand designed to embarrass her.

  He took it for granted that she would comply, telling Carl, “Bring me a basin of water and a washing cloth.”

  Brooke’s mind raced as she tried to think of a way to put off an uncomfortable situation. “You don’t want the water heated?”

  “Not necessary. Carl always keeps a small pail of water warming in the fireplace in the bathing room so I don’t have to wait for hot water.”

  Well then. How difficult would it be to rub a wet cloth over him? Very difficult. She groaned inwardly. But she needed to show him that his tactics were not going to work. So be pleasant, as a wife would be, she told herself.

  When Carl walked away after setting the bowl of water on the night table, she wrung out the cloth. At least Dominic was still sitting on the side of the bed so she had easy access to him. But when she stood in front of him, cloth in hand, she was arrested by his eyes. He had such a piercing gaze, as if he were trying to see into her mind, or trying to gauge her reaction to this forced intimacy. He’d tried so many different ways to make her go. Did he really think she would find this chore so odious if she were his wife? She had a feeling that she wouldn’t mind it, and that made her blush. She wasn’t his wife yet.

  She ran the cloth over his face first, slowly, carefully. She tried to ignore how incredibly handsome he was, but couldn’t. He had such strong features, chin, nose, the wide brow. Two locks of hair fell on either side of it, too short for his queue. It was like touching strands of silk when she lifted them out of the way.

  When she felt the thick morning stubble on his cheeks, she realized the cloth might be too thin. Trying to clean his ears wasn’t a good idea, though, because she saw the gooseflesh on his neck. She quickly switched to his shoulder.

  “That’s the one that aches from sleeping on that hard floor last night.” He added softly, “Massage it for me.”

  She stopped moving her hand, she stopped breathing. Her heart was pounding. If she looked into his eyes, she was sure she would melt on the spot. Yet she had to massage him before he brought up her duty again. The only way she managed it was to imagine it wasn’t his shoulder she was kneading with her fingers, so she looked over his shoulder at the bedroom wall. Then she heard his groan of pleasure.

  Utterly undone, she quickly grabbed the cloth again and moved it down his arm. If he asked her to massage him again, she’d throw the cloth at him. Holding his hand in hers, she wiped each finger. She was concentrating so hard on the task she didn’t notice right away that his hands weren’t dirty. He’d already washed them?

  Her eyes went back to his. He could wash the rest of his body himself, too. He could do this so much more easily and quickly than she could.

  As she started to say so, his hand twisted around hers and pulled her forward, nearly to his chest. “Remember your duty, soon-to-be-wife. This isn’t a matter of necessity, it’s a matter of choice. Mine. Continue.”

  He’d read her thoughts! Hot cheeked, she stepped back to wring out the cloth again, then applied it to his chest. Not softly, but angrily, and for longer than necessary, though that might have been because she got so distracted by how big and broad his chest was and how hard and well muscled his abdomen was. But when she saw how red she was leaving his skin, she stopped abruptly. He hadn’t said a word of protest.

  Contrite, she decided to finish as quickly as she could and get out of there. But when she leaned around him to reach his back, her breast brushed against his upper arm, and she felt the same wonderful sensations she’d experienced that morning when he’d brushed his palm against her nipple. Oh, God.

  She quickly backed away to rinse the cloth out again, then climbed onto the bed and moved behind him to wash his back. More gooseflesh appeared on his skin as she washed the back of his neck. His neck and ears were sensitive. Something a wife might want to remember for future reference. Brooke tried to forget it. His dog helped her to do that by jumping up on the bed and watching her. Considering the animal’s odd behavior recently, he made her a little nervous now.

  Running the cloth over Dominic’s back much more gently because his eyes weren’t on her now, she decided to get into the spirit of being a dutiful fiancée and massaged his shoulder a little more. She might as well try anything and everything to get him to love her.

  But Wolf had distracted him and he leaned over to pet the dog’s flank, prompting her to remark casually, “You say he’s not a wolf, but one of his ancestors might have been.”

  “Possibly. But it doesn’t matter. He’s quite tame.”

  Dominic wasn’t, but she persisted, “I know wolves are supposed to be extinct on the isle, but how do we know they were all killed off?”

  “Because it was inevitable once kings started placing bounties on them instead of just demanding their pelts as tribute. They’ve been gone for centuries, but the lands in the north are extensive and wide stretches are uninhabited. I suppose it’s possible a few packs might have survived, but I’m doubtful.”

  She had expected him to scoff at her as he had done the last time this subject came up, not support her contention that his dog’s wolf ancestors might have roamed the Yorkshire moors more recently than centuries ago.

  But then he said, “If you
’d stop looking at Wolf like he’s more wolf than dog, you might not fear him or believe that rumor about a wolflike creature howling on the moors.”

  The color returned to her cheeks. “Nonsense,” she insisted. “Wolf and I are great friends already, though he does get upset when he smells Raston on my hands.”

  “Raston?”

  “Alfreda’s cat that’s been catching mice for your head groom in the stable.”

  “Cats have their uses. Did you think I would object to your bringing one with you?”

  “You object to everything about my presence here, M’lord Wolfe.”

  If she thought that would be a good time for him to deny it, she was mistaken. As long as he couldn’t see what she was doing behind him, she reached in her pocket for the carrot and handed it to the dog. He took it and jumped off the other side of the bed and immediately started making crunching noises.

  She grinned and was still grinning when Dominic said, “What’s he chewing on? If he’s got hold of another one of my boots—”

  “It’s just a carrot. You didn’t know he likes them?”

  “So that’s how you made friends with him?”

  “No, I only found that out just now.”

  “And why did you have a carrot to give him? For your horse? You are not riding off on your own again. You’ll take a groom with you henceforth.”

  “Certainly. And I wasn’t—”

  She paused when she heard the door to his room open and two servants came in carrying buckets of water. She threw the cloth in her hand at Dominic’s back before she shot off the bed and straight for the door.

  “Do not get your wound wet when you take the bath you ordered,” she hissed on the way out the door.

  She heard a laugh behind her. He actually laughed!

  Beyond despicable. He was positively wicked.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  BROOKE MADE SURE NOT to run into Dominic for the rest of that day by simply staying in her room, even taking her meals there. From the sound of so much traffic coming and going from his room, she guessed he wasn’t going to follow her advice to stay off his wounded leg for a few hours a day. She would have thought he’d at least pamper his leg today after so much activity last night and this morning, but obviously not. She even heard him in the corridor later telling Gabriel he was going out to the stable to check on some of his prized horses.

  Her run of the house had been brief. And as much as she might be tempted to avoid Dominic and his nasty tactics, she knew she couldn’t or they’d never resolve their issues. Well, she had no issues other than his campaign to drive her away. Would that end once they married? Or was his meanness ingrained? Still, she wasn’t about to follow him around Rothdale like a lovesick puppy. She needed viable reasons to seek him out and spend time with him now that she no longer had an excuse to enter his room. Why the deuce did he have to heal so quickly?

  Alfreda joined her in her room for an early lunch, bringing enough food for them both. “Does he love you yet after you spent the night with him?” the maid asked even before she set the tray down on the little table.

  Brooke sat down on the love seat, admitting, “He did kiss me several times, but he had an incredible excuse for doing so.”

  “Oh?”

  Brooke snorted. “He heard our horses breeding during the night. It apparently stirred his own lust.”

  “And you didn’t take advantage of that?”

  “I tried to,” Brooke mumbled, then growled, “He stopped, claiming I’d never leave Rothdale if he made love to me.”

  Alfreda laughed, earning a glare from Brooke across the table. Having coughed her humor away, the maid pointed out, “That was a whopper and you should have recognized it as one.”

  “Then what was his real reason? I was willing, he even guessed I was.”

  “Perhaps your wolf is more chivalrous than he lets on and simply didn’t want your initiation into the delights of the marital bed to be lacking a bed. And since he’s still hoping you’ll go home, he wouldn’t admit to that, now would he?”

  “Maybe.” Brooke remembered her own thought last night that it had been chivalrous of him to try to block the wind from her.

  “So now that he’s healed enough to ride through a storm and back for you, which was a magnificently heroic—”

  “Do not ascribe to him motives he didn’t have. It was self-interest and nothing else that impelled him to find me.”

  Alfreda tsked as if she didn’t agree. “In either case, you need to figure out new ways to spend time with him. Your plan could be working and he just won’t own up to it yet. I saw him go out to the stable. Perhaps join him there after you eat? Does he even know how much you love horses?”

  “He knows I want to breed them. But that’s a good idea and—” Brooke paused when she heard Dominic in the hall calling to Wolf, heralding his return to the house. “Just as well. I would probably have ended up scolding him today for not resting his leg. I’ll join him at the stable tomorrow if he goes there again.”

  “Or ride with him if he starts to exercise that brute he rides. He might even suggest that, not trusting you not to get lost again.”

  Brooke snorted. “He already said I must take a footman with me from now on.”

  “So tell him it’s more appropriate for him to escort you since he’s your fiancé. Be assertive, him or no one.”

  Brooke chuckled. “Do you know what it’s like to be insistent with him? It’s like barking at the wind. Both are pointless.”

  “You’re starting to make me lose hope, poppet. I know this mountain between the two of you seems insurmountable, especially now that we know he blames your brother not just for his sister’s death, but also for the death of her child. I wish you didn’t find that out when you read the girl’s diary.”

  “Me, too,” Brooke said a bit dismally.

  When Alfreda had caught her reading the diary, Brooke had mentioned the part she’d seen at the end of it. Alfreda had offered again that day to make Brooke a love potion to at least get past the animosity and straight to the nicer parts of a marriage. Brooke had declined again. She wanted Dominic to really love her, not just to think he did.

  “You should have listened to me the other day,” Alfreda said, bringing that up. “This situation is more extreme than we first thought, and that calls for extreme measures. I’m making you that potion.”

  “But it’s not his lust that I want.”

  “Love, lust, they go hand in hand.” The maid stood up and headed for the door. “At least you’ll have it on hand in case a situation arises when you think it will be useful.”

  Because of her harrowing ordeal the previous day, Brooke gave in to her tiredness and went to bed while it was still dusk outside. It was dark when the loud howl woke her. She lit her bedside lamp and looked at her pocket watch. It was half past ten. She grabbed her robe and went quickly to Dominic’s room to make sure he was in it, but she was hesitant to knock on his door. What excuse would she have if he was in there? But if he wasn’t and was out howling on the moors instead? Of course he wasn’t. She shook off that ridiculous middle-of-the-night thought. It was just a silly rumor, but she wanted to disprove it once and for all, and not just for her own satisfaction, but so she could support him in debunking it.

  She knocked softly and waited. The door opened only a crack. It was Andrew and he said immediately, “He’s gone for a walk, m’lady.”

  Wonderful, just what she didn’t want to hear, support for that silly rumor. “Did you hear that mournful howl?”

  “Dogs from the village out wandering this way.”

  Was it? Or were the servants used to making excuses for their lord’s eccentric habits? “Where does his lordship usually walk?”

  “To the village. He frequents a pub when he can’t sleep.”

  She thanked Andrew and went back to her room, but not right back to bed. A pub, eh? Maybe he had a favorite serving girl there? She was miffed that he was turning to other women i
nstead of her, first his former mistress, now a tavern girl? Wide-awake now, she dressed and left the house, deciding to see for herself.

  On this beautiful summer night the wide path to the village was bathed in moonlight. It didn’t take her long to get there and spot the one building that was lit up and noisy. She headed straight for it, but stopped at one of the windows to peer inside. She spotted Dominic immediately, taller than anyone else in the room. Gabriel and a half dozen other men surrounded him.

  He was dressed casually and didn’t even look like a lord tonight. Nor was he acting like one. She was seeing a new side to the wolf and was fascinated, watching him laugh and drink with the commoners, and good grief, was he the one singing? She was impressed that the local men seemed to like him and feel comfortable with him. When Dominic suddenly let out a howl, the other men did as well, and soon they were all laughing about it.

  Brooke grinned. No, indeed, that rumor about his being part wolf obviously didn’t bother him at all anymore—if it ever did. That thought made her wonder how many of the other things he’d told her about himself were true and how many he’d made up to chase her away.

  At least he wasn’t there cavorting with women. She turned away from the window to walk back to Rothdale, but gasped when she bumped into someone.

  “Steady, lass,” the man said. “If you’ve got a chap in there who’s stayed longer than he ought to, come tell him.”

  Before she could protest, she was pulled into the tavern. She would have bolted right back out if Dominic hadn’t seen her immediately. Her eyes locked to his across the room, she didn’t move. Then a perky red-cheeked serving girl thrust a drink in her hand and smiled. Brooke felt bad about having had such angry thoughts about the women who worked at the tavern.

  “So who is he?” asked the man who had led her inside.

  When she glanced at the grinning villager who looked as if he was hoping to see one of the men get yelled at, she probably disappointed him by saying, “I’m Dominic’s fiancée.”

  The last thing she expected was for him to laugh and shout that information to the room. Hoots and hollers filled the room, and men started patting Dominic on the back.