Billionaire Flawed 1(222)

Catherine lowered her eyes, embarrassed. As soft as his company may have been, she knew he had found himself once in the midst of a bloody battle, a skirmish that sprang up where none had been expected. He had declined ever to speak with her about the matter, and she hadn’t pressed, if only because she saw the dark shadow that crossed over him when it was brought up.

“It’s not as bad as war,” the young man said finally. He had dropped her other hand now, and she yearned for him to take them both again, but he didn’t. “However, six months is a long time and the wedding…”

It usually went unspoken between them, Catherine’s upcoming nuptials. She knew it was as painful for Dominick as it was for her. But now, with him leaving, it couldn’t remain an issue that gnawed at their minds silently.

“I won’t be married that quickly. No date has been set yet. The Duke doesn’t seem to want to push me before I am ready. The arrangement is good enough for him.”

“So when do you think you’ll be ready?” Dominick asked, not bothering to hide the disgust from his tone.

“That’s not what I meant,” Catherine said as she looked down once more. “Oh Dom, I shall never be ready for that.”

Dominick sighed and nodded. He placed a hand under the young woman’s chin and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. They were still wet, full of tears. “I’m sorry to have upset you, Catherine,” he said. “I only wanted you to meet me so I could say goodbye.”

She nodded, and when he lowered his head to kiss her, she didn’t stop him. They had kissed before of course, as children the first time as would be lovers after. Her lips were plump and full, his thinner but hungry. They kissed, and his hand went to the side of her face, his strong fingers tracing along her jawline. They kissed, and his other hand went to her chest, two fingers hooking the top of her dress, brushing against her ample cleavage. He began to tug the dress down.

Catherine broke the kiss, took his hand in both of hers. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Dominick said, as though that was all he needed to say, and that it had explained everything.

“Dom,” Catherine started, but she didn’t know how to finish her sentence. She and Dom had kissed, and done more, but they had never laid together. She was untouched in that way, no matter how many times Dominick had tried to convince her to lay with him. She wanted to, of course, but the shame she would feel, being unmarried, being soiled on her wedding night instead of pristine and untouched for her husband, she never could.

“Dom,” she said again. “I can’t.”

Dominick changed in a flash, his brows knit and pulled low over his eyes, his mouth turned downward into a cruel sneer. She had seen it before, had accepted it as a flaw in the man she loved, how quickly he could turn angry.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be gone, and you can have your Duke.”

“Dominick, it isn’t like that,” Catherine said, but the man was already brushing past her, heading out from under the cover of the dock, into the night. He didn’t say anything, and Catherine watched him go with more tears coming to sting her eyes.



****



When Catherine returned home, she had only been in her room for what seemed like a few minutes when her sister was at her door. Catherine hadn’t bothered to dress for bed; she had just flopped onto the mattress in her dress. The only comfort she had allowed herself was leaning down and pulling those ankle high boots off and letting them drop to the floor.

“How is Dom?” Rebecca asked her.

Catherine sat up. “How did you know I went to speak with Dom?”

Rebecca laughed. She had dressed for bed in a simple white nightgown. Her bare feet took her across her sister’s room where she sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Catherine’s knee.

“Little sister, the only time you’ve ever snuck out of the house at night is to see Dominick.”

“I didn’t sneak out,” Catherine said, a bit of defensiveness in her voice.

“Sure,” Rebecca said, content to let her sister believe that if she so wanted. “How is Dom?”

It was no secret that Rebecca didn’t much care for Dominick, but Catherine had always believed it was simply because her oldest sister was jealous. Rebecca didn’t look like Catherine, or their sister in the middle, Samantha. Where the two younger were slight and delicate, with ample bosoms, Rebecca was tall, taller than most men, and as flat as the boards which made up the side of a barn. She was pretty, her face with nice features, but her frame was simply longer, taller than most men might like. She had been lonely, and the attention her younger sisters got surely bothered her.