Dominic (29 page)

“Why, it’s in your brother’s hand, Signore. He asks me to inform you that he awaits you downstairs.”

“Damnation! Tel him I’l be down directly.” Dismissing her, he stepped back into his room.

The Shimmerskin was bathing just as he’d left her, stroking over her arms and shoulders and essential y imitating the way he’d washed himself

earlier. While he’d thought she’d been engrossed in his book, she’d apparently managed to pay close attention to his toilette as wel . The water rose

higher on her smal er frame than it had on his. Her breasts bobbed along its surface, ful and rosy.

Bacchus!
His erection would never subside if he didn’t manage to get himself under control. He turned to make himself ready, trying to block out

the subtle sounds she was making behind him.

“Finish your bath,” he told her as he jerked on his boots over his trouser legs. “I’m going downstairs to fetch suitable clothing for you, and then I’l

return.”

Without awaiting her reply, he took her assent for granted and strode to the door, shut and locked it, and then stalked toward the staircase stil

buttoning his shirt.

4

H
alfway down the grand staircase, he froze.

It appeared that not one, but two of his brothers had come in response to his simple request. And Landon had accompanied them as wel !

Marco and Anthony, two of the twenty-four-year-old fraternal triplets that comprised the whole of his male siblings, stood at the foot of the stairs,

their dark eyes twinkling. Marco wore his banker’s suit, and Anthony, who managed the Satyr Vineyard accounts, wore similar tailoring that marked him

as a man of business.

Several yards beyond them stood Landon, Vincent’s closest friend. Five years their senior and two years older than Vincent, he wore his usual

taciturn expression, along with a supple leather jacket, work-worn trousers, and scuffed, muddied boots, which indicated he’d just come from toiling

among the vines.

“Why aren’t you ready for departure?” Anthony demanded in outrage. “Have you even reviewed the list of negotiation points for the meeting before

you make your way through the gate to Julius?”

Vincent ignored this outburst and eyed the package under Marco’s arm, which no doubt held the items he’d requested for the Shimmerskin in his

quarters.

“I wasn’t aware it would require three grown men to deliver one smal parcel,” he remarked cool y, loping down the remainder of the dozen or so

steps between them. “I suppose I should be glad Julius awaits me in Else World and Daniela is abroad, or you’d doubtlessly have invited our other two

siblings along to assist in so onerous an endeavor.”

Though al four brothers served the Satyr in their own way, none had been gifted with the cal ing to work the land as their father, Nicholas, had. Only

Daniela, Vincent’s younger sister by one year, had grown up to surprise them al by doing so.

During her temporary absence, she’d requested Landon’s help, although she had difficulty in turning the reins of responsibility for her patch of

vines over to any man, even one so qualified for these duties. Entirely of Else World blood, Landon had immigrated to this world ten years ago and was

now employed to oversee al the brothers’ sections of vineyard.

Marco made a show of examining his surroundings. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Vincent asked innocently.

“The woman upon whom you wish to hang this garment.” Marco shook the package he held meaningful y. “It’s not every day my eldest brother

sends his servant to me with orders that I’m to filch a dress from my wife’s closet and deliver it to his bachelor household. Caused quite a stir. Mil icent

awaits details,” he said, referring to his wife.

“Exactly as you say,” said Vincent. “I ordered a dress. Not the lot of you.”

“I’l remind you that I live here,” Landon offered with a rare touch of drol humor.

He’d been standing apart from them with his hands on his hips, but now he ambled toward them. His left leg was stiff and moved awkwardly, a

result of three years of service in the war that stil raged in Else World. Though he’d never spoken of those days, they’d injured him in more ways than the

physical.

“I offered to see the package safely delivered in your hands,” Landon informed him, stationing himself comfortably against the newel post at the

base of the marble stairs. “However, Marco wouldn’t give it up without an explanation for its contents. Anthony was anxious to ensure you get through the

gate in time for your endless discussions of legalities. Together they proved an unstoppable force.”

It was a ridiculous statement. Though al four of them were of massive size and stature, Landon topped even Vincent by an inch or so and was

slightly broader of chest.

Ignoring him, Vincent made an undignified grab for the package.

Marco was ready and snatched it away, tossing it to a startled Anthony. “Come now, just show her to us, or at the very least give us a name, and

we’l be on our way.”

“There’s no woman, I’m tel ing you. If you’ve come hoping for a show, you’ve come for naught. I need the dress because I’m required to attend a

costume bal in Else World,” Vincent fibbed easily.

“Anthony?” Marco looked to their sibling.

Vincent glared at Anthony as wel , daring him to expose the falsehood he’d uttered.

“How am I to know? It’s Julius who keeps track of the details of Vincent’s obligations, social and business.”

Marco eyed him, undeterred. “A facile lie, big brother. But the prospect of you in my wife’s gown? Its hem would barely reach your knees. Confess.

Who’s it real y for?”

“None of your affair.” Vincent made another grab, but Anthony, who’d caught the spirit of the game, dodged and tossed his package back to his

brother.

“Landon! Don’t just stand there, traitor. Assist me,” said Vincent.

Landon lifted both hands, palms outward. “You’re on your own. I admit I’m growing as curious as your brothers.”

Marco held the bundle behind his back. “Come, Vincenzo. If you didn’t want us to know, why ask me for the dress?”

“Because Daniela is unavailable? Because you’re the only married brother I have?”

“Why didn’t you put your request to Mother?” Anthony put in. “I believe she possesses one or two gowns in her many closets.”

Vincent’s brows rammed together, and though he knew that his mother, the wel -mannered Lady Jane Satyr, had accompanied his father and

sister abroad, he nevertheless lowered his voice as if he feared she might be eavesdropping. “This matter is best kept between us. For now.”

A look of smug amusement lit Marco’s face, and he shoved aside the col ar of Vincent’s shirt. “Aha! You’re marked, there on your throat.” He

poked a finger in Vincent’s chest. “You
do
have a woman here! Where is she? In your bedchamber?” He craned his neck, straining to look around

Vincent’s bulk to the stair landing above.

Vincent shifted his col ar higher, hiding the bruise the Shimmerskin had left. “Al right, yes! I am entertaining a woman here. Are the three of you

sufficiently satisfied? Now stop wasting my time. Wil you just—”

Marco snickered. “Wait until Mother gets wind of this. She’l have you engaged and—”

When Vincent made another grab, Marco flung the box toward Landon.

“Not so fast,” said Landon when Vincent turned on him. Holding the parcel out of reach, he flattened a work-toughened hand in the center of

Vincent’s chest, gray eyes skewering him for a potent moment as only his incisive gaze could. Whatever he read in Vincent’s face had him sobering.

“Wel , I’l be damned.”

“Gods!” Marco gasped at the same time.

“It’s
her!
” Anthony chimed in, pointing up the stairs in astonishment.

Vincent swiveled, knowing ful wel whom he was likely to see behind him. As he’d suspected, the Shimmerskin was now standing at the top of the

steps, her hand on the banister, and one high-arched foot poised on the first descending rung.

Fresh from the bath, she’d donned his shirt again and wore it like an unbelted, unbuttoned robe. Her luminescent, shapely legs were long and bare

beneath it, and her lustrous hair spil ed down her back and shoulders like tumbled moonbeams.

Somehow she’d unlocked the bedchamber door and escaped. Or in order to penetrate it had she managed to momentarily dissolve back into the

enchanted mist from which she’d original y issued?

Al four men stared, mute and transfixed, as she gingerly made her way toward them. As if she were a youthful queen who’d forgotten to don her

royal raiment and slippers, her every step displayed a length of thigh and more than a hint of bel y and breast. Two rungs above him, she stopped, a

hesitant smile on her lips as she first studied him and then took in each of his companions in turn.

Marco gaped. “You conjured her yet
again
? How many times has it been now? In the name of Bacchus, Vin! I’m growing ever more concerned that

you may have a problem.”

“I do indeed have a problem,” Vincent gritted. “Three of them in fact, al loitering here in my vestibule and pestering me when I’ve got a critical

meeting to convene in less than an hour’s time.”

“I believe the correct term might be an addiction,” Anthony remarked to his triplet, overlooking Vincent’s interruption.

At Landon’s continued silence, Vincent shot a glance in his direction. Prurient interest flashed in his friend’s dark, solemn eyes as they swept the

woman on the stairs, but it was swiftly doused, and he looked away, aloof again.

But Vincent had expected such a reaction. Had in fact hoped for it. He and Landon had always gravitated to the same women…before the war.

Whereas Vincent had served a brief stint of active service prior to going on to attend university, Landon had spent much of the last three years

fighting a war that had been raging on for twenty-seven years. Just shy of a month ago, he had abruptly left his regiment for good and returned here

through the gate. As far as Vincent knew, he hadn’t had a female since he’d come home.

Having tired of her contemplation of the men, the Shimmerskin was now surreptitiously testing the nap of the carpet runner with the curl of her toes,

like a gypsy determining its worth.

Seeming oblivious of the giant males who looked on, she folded her legs beneath her and unceremoniously sat upon a tread. Tracing the subtle,

woven pattern with her fingertips, she then leaned down to rub the rich weave with her cheek, catlike. Her lashes drifted closed, and a blissful smile curved

her lips. “Ummm.”

Al humor fled the four men in an instant, leaving a smoldering tension to fil the void. Vincent felt the others’ sexual interest roil as if it were his own.

Knew they would discern the ramping of his pulse as wel .

Through al the centuries past, it had been this way between Satyr males. This preternatural dissemination of carnal awareness among them was

an inalienable part of their makeups, and it had the happy effect of exponential y heightening their enjoyment of lascivious engagements.

Marco and Anthony shifted beside him, and a hint of ruddy color tinged Landon’s cheekbones. The Shimmerskin sat there, seemingly oblivious to

the undercurrents.

“Just give me the damned dress.” Vincent took the box from Landon’s suddenly lax fingers. The Shimmerskin’s arm luminesced under his hand as

he pul ed her upright and smacked the package to her naked bel y.

“Put this on,” he told her, amazed to feel possessive of her.

Her brow wrinkled, and she cocked her head, uncomprehending.

When she made no move to grasp his offering, he folded her arms across it. But when he let go, she al owed it to slip heedlessly to the floor.

As the parcel tumbled down a couple of steps, the ribbon tied around it loosened, and its wrapping shifted askew.

Her eyes lit with interest when a dusky red ruffle appeared. A pair of stockings slinked haphazardly from among the jumble to lie on the stair, and

the heel of one shoe and the toe of its twin burst from the paper.

She seemed to recognize al this for what it was, for she immediately whipped his shirt off. Blithely tossing it over the balustrade behind her, she

knelt beside the unexpected bounty.

Vincent could almost hear Landon’s inner predatory growl at the sight of her like this. He and these men had shared numerous Shimmerskins in

the course of their lives. Satyr rituals at Moonful were such that they’d al seen one another and their mates unclothed and locked in passion many times

before.

However, it was one matter to have Landon and his brothers view this woman in a state of nakedness when they’d gathered in the glen for

salacious purposes. Having them ogle her on his stair, in his home, in broad daylight was quite another.

Breasts that were too voluptuous for her frame bobbled gently with her motions as she stood again and lifted the dress high to admire it. Her face

was heart-wrenchingly awed at the simple gift.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Do your dressing upstairs in my chamber,” he heard himself order.

Marco frowned at him.

He’d sounded jealous. He
was
jealous. Gods, was it possible? Of his own brothers? Of Landon? Men with whom he’d grown up and easily shared

dozens if not hundreds of other women?

With one leg in the dress and the other poised to join it, the Shimmerskin looked inquiringly at him. “Why?”

“What the hel ?” Even Landon straightened from his usual slouch at this, dumbfounded by her question. By the fact that she’d asked it.

Vincent took the garment from her, lifted it over her head, and then began brusquely adjusting it to fit.

“What the hel ’s going on?” Marco demanded. “A Shimmerskin questioning our instructions? And requiring dresses? Where in hel fire did she