A Daring Passion (26 page)

“It does have its uses.”

Her lips thinned. “So does simple human kindness. The servants would not flee if you took a few moments to assure them that you are pleased with their efforts.”

He regarded her for a long moment, as if wondering if she had lost her senses. “If I was not pleased, they would be seeking new employment.”

Raine rolled her eyes. The man's aloof arrogance never failed to astonish her.

“And you cannot take a few moments to offer words of praise?” she demanded.

“I pay their salary. I assure you that is far more important than any words of praise.”

Without thinking, Raine was on her feet and crossing to regard him with a small frown.

“What do you fear, Philippe?”

His green eyes narrowed. “Fear?”

“Do you believe you will be thought weak if you lower your guard for even a moment?” she demanded. “Or is it that you merely prefer to keep everyone at a distance?”

“Not everyone.” Without warning his arms whipped around her and Raine discovered herself hauled against the hard contours of his body. The ice melted from his expression and a dangerous heat smoldered in his eyes. “The less distance between us the better.”

Her breath tangled in her throat. “Philippe…your arm.”

With a groan he buried his face in her neck. “My arm is not what is currently aching.”

There was no mistaking the stirring of his body as he pressed her tightly against him. Even worse, there was no mistaking her own response as his lips skated down the line of her throat.

“For God's sake, Philippe. Do you never think of anything else?” she protested.

Philippe nipped sharply at the lobe of her ear. “Not when you are near.”

Her already raw nerves rebelled at the blatant confession that she was nothing more than a warm body he currently desired. Stupid, really. He had never pretended that he had any other interest in her.

Still, the realization that he remained impervious, while every day she was growing more deeply ensnared with the vexing man, made her struggle from his clinging grasp.

“That is hardly flattering,” she muttered, stepping back before he could halt her retreat.

A smile twitched at his lips. “It does not please you to know that I cannot keep my hands from you? That you plague me with thoughts of your satin skin and plum-ripe lips even when we are miles apart?”

“It takes little accomplishment to stir a man's lust,” she said tartly. “As a rule one need only be a female.”

“Ah, but I am a gentleman of discerning taste,” he drawled. “Only the most beautiful of women is capable of stirring my lust.”

“That is still no compliment. I had nothing to do with the way I was born.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “You wish me to tell you that I am fascinated by your brilliant wit and astonishing intelligence?”

Raine flinched as he struck far too close to the truth. She did possess wit and intelligence. Why should she not be admired for such things?

All too aware of his searching gaze watching the play of emotions that flitted over her face, Raine abruptly turned to study the blazing fire.

“I suppose it does not matter.”

She thought she heard him stifle a sigh before he reached out to lightly stroke her cheek.

“You are very difficult to please,
meu amor.
Since it is obvious my mere words cannot convince you of my utter bewitchment, perhaps I should express my admiration with a more tangible means.”

Philippe shifted, and without warning Raine discovered that he was pressing the box he had brought back from Paris into her hands.

A chill settled in the pit of her stomach as she studied the elegantly carved box.

“What is this?”

“Open it and discover for yourself,” he softly challenged.

With hesitant motions she pulled the lid off the box and gently tugged aside the black velvet within. She caught a brilliant flash of absurdly large diamonds and what appeared to be a ruby, as well as a golden glint of amber before she was shoving the box back into Philippe's hand.

“No,” she breathed.

For once she managed to catch him utterly off guard. His brows drew together as he regarded her with a hint of wariness.

“Raine?”

There might have been a measure of satisfaction in Philippe's uncertainty if Raine had not been battling a sudden flood of tears. As it was, all she could think of was escaping before he could witness her distress.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, sweeping past him to head directly for the door.

Once out of the stifling room, Raine picked up her skirts and dashed up the stairs to her chambers. Within moments she had the door shut and locked behind her.

Still in the drawing room, Philippe paced the cramped space as he struggled to comprehend what had just occurred.

Raine usually managed to surprise him. Which, of course, only added to her fascination. But this…this was completely daft.

He had just offered the chit an entire treasure chest of flawless jewels. The sort of jewels that a mere mistress could rarely hope to acquire. So why was she not overcome with joy? Why was she not tossing herself in his arms and rewarding him as she should?

Hell and damnation.

A wave of fury washed through him as he reached into the box and pulled out the necklaces. Stuffing them into his pocket, he headed for the upstairs chambers. He deserved an explanation.

And then he deserved the hours of sensuous gratitude that he had been anticipating.

His fury was not improved when he reached Raine's door and discovered she had thrown the lock. Lifting his fist, he hit the oak door with enough force to make the pictures rattle on the hall paneling.

“Dammit, open the door, Raine.”

There was a long silence before Raine's voice at last floated through the air.

“Can I not have even a few moments of privacy?”

He hit the door again, indifferent to the knowledge that the entire household must be capable of hearing him, and fact that he was not behaving at all like himself.

That cold, remote part of him that allowed him to always be in complete command of his emotions was decidedly absent. Raine's fault, of course. Now she could suffer the consequences.

“Open the door or I will break it down.”

There was another pause, and then clearly realizing that he was perfectly capable of breaking down the door, Raine pulled back the bolt and yanked the door open.

Standing on the threshold, she folded her arms over her chest. “There. Are you satisfied?”

Philippe narrowed his gaze as he took in her damp cheeks and reddened eyes. Lord. She had been crying. The knowledge made his chest tighten in an uncomfortable manner.

“No, I am not bloody well satisfied. What the devil is the matter with you?”

Stepping back, Raine paced toward the center of the room. “I am tired. I wish to rest before dinner.”

Philippe slammed the door behind him as he followed in her path. Reaching out, he scooped her off her feet and cradled her in his arms. There would be no more running. Not even if he had to tie her to the damn bed.

“Do not walk away from me,
menina pequena,
” he growled. “Not ever.”

There was no fear on the pale face as Raine met him glare for glare. “Philippe, let me down.”

A hard smile touched his lips. “Very well.”

While she eyed him with open suspicion, Philippe strode the short distance to dump her onto the four-posted bed. Before she could move he had pursued her downward and trapped her beneath his body.

“No.” She pressed ineffectively against his chest, squirming beneath him.

Philippe gritted his teeth as his muscles stirred. Raine had never looked more beautiful with her golden curls spilling across the pillows and her face flushed with anger. Just like an exotic angel that begged for his kisses.

He fully intended to ease his frustrated desire, but not until she properly regretted her ungrateful behavior.

Planting his hands on either side of her shoulders, he regarded her with a grim expression.

“Tell me, Raine.”

Her chin tilted. “Tell you what?”

“Why did you just toss a fortune in jewels back into my face?”

“I did not toss them.”

His breath hissed between his teeth. “Do not fence with me. Not now.”

For a moment their gazes tangled in a silent battle of wills. Then, with a frustrated sigh, Raine turned her head to one side.

“I never asked for jewels,” she said stiffly.

“I am well aware you never asked for them. They were a gift.”

“A gift is a pretty fan or a book of poetry. A diamond necklace is…”

He studied her pale profile, his body tensing. “Do not halt now. What is a diamond necklace?”

Raine slowly turned her head to meet his searching gaze. “Payment.”

Philippe growled deep in his throat. “You dare to suggest that I am purchasing your favors?”

“Are you not?”

His gaze took an insolent survey of her slender body stretched beneath him.

“I have no need to purchase something that I already own.”

A faint heat touched her cheeks, but her gaze never wavered. “Then why did you give them to me?”

“Because I thought they would please you, you irritating minx.”

“And because you always buy jewels for your mistresses?” she challenged.

He stilled at her accusation. “Is that what this is about? You are jealous at the knowledge I have known other women?”

Her dark eyes smoldered with a fierce emotion. “I do not like being reminded that I am a kept woman. You have taken everything but my pride. I will not allow you to have that, as well.”

Philippe found himself hesitating. He was a man who possessed strict rules when it came to the women who shared his bed. He did not endure jealous clinging, manipulation or tedious lectures. And he most certainly did not endure temper tantrums. Why should he? There were always lovely ladies anxious to offer him companionship.

On this occasion, however, the thought of tossing Raine from his bed did not even flit through his mind. Instead, his clever brain was churning through the best means of dealing with the provoking woman.

“And what have I taken?” he demanded. “Your innocence? You hardly battled me. In fact, as I recall you nearly ripped off my clothes.”

His blunt honesty did nothing to ease her strange mood. If anything the pale features only hardened with displeasure.

“I suppose you will also claim you did not take my freedom? Or force me to leave my father and my home?” she charged.

Philippe shoved himself off the bed and paced across the small room. Damn the woman. He had given her a life of untold ease and luxury. More luxury than any woman in her position could have ever dreamed possible. He would not be painted as the villain.

“You would prefer to be trapped in that shabby village with a father who is destined to lure you to the gallows?”

She pressed into the bank of pillows, her expression oddly vulnerable. “You can mock all you like, but it was my life and you stole it from me. You wanted me so you took me, and you did not give a thought to who you might hurt.”

Just for a moment his heart twisted with something remarkably akin to guilt. It was true he had stolen her from the life she had known. And that he had done so without thought of anything beyond his own desires.

Then he was thrusting the ridiculous notion aside. Of course he took her. She had readily placed herself at his mercy, and he was not a man who was stupid enough to toss aside what fate offered.

Whether she wished to acknowledge the truth or not, she belonged to him.

“Perhaps you should consider a career on the stage,
querida,
” he drawled. “I have never seen a more convincing damsel in distress.”

She closed her eyes as she covered her face with her hands. “Would you please just go away?”

With a few long strides he was standing beside the bed and grasping her wrists in a tight grip. Tugging her hands downward, he glared into her wide eyes.

“No, not until you stop this nonsense. I want the truth of what is troubling you.”

R
AINE DID NOT STRUGGLE
against his near-painful grip. Why bother? They both knew that he possessed the strength to do whatever he wished with her.

Instead, she put all her shimmering frustration into the stubborn tilt of her chin. He could manhandle her all he liked, but he could not force her to accept being his mere toy. It simply was not in her nature.

“You seem to have little interest in truth,” she accused, refusing to think about the warm, male scent that was wrapping about her, or the slender fingers that had loosened their grip on her wrists to lightly stroke her sensitive skin. “Not unless it suits your purpose.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers continuing their insistent caresses. “And what would you know of my purpose?”

“I know that you are obsessed with capturing Seurat and rescuing your brother.”

“Hardly surprising. You would do the same for your father.”

“I also know that for the moment I have captured your interest, but once this is all settled and you return to your estate in Madeira I will be tossed aside.”

He stilled, his expression impossible to read. “What makes you so certain?”

Did he truly believe she was that naive? Or just stupid? She may have been raised in a convent, but she understood that while a mistress might be readily indulged by her protector, she could never expect to be more than a naughty secret that was hidden from society.

A man's home, his loyalty and his heart would be reserved solely for the woman he would make his wife.

A pain threatened to clench her heart, but Raine was ruthless to squash it. No. She was not going to allow Philippe Gautier to hurt her. He had already disrupted her life quite enough, thank you.

Which was why it was so imperative that she convince him to let her go.

“Gentlemen do not house their mistresses beneath their own roof,” she said, her tone more tart than she intended. “Not unless they desire to create a scandal.”

He gazed down the length of his aquiline nose, clearly indifferent to the threat of scandal.

“Do you truly imagine I care what others might say of me? My life is not ruled by the gossipmongers. And I assure you, if I decide that I want you beneath my roof that is precisely where you will be.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Dear God, no. It was bad enough to remain here in Paris. It would be nothing short of a disaster if she were to be secluded alone with him at his estate in Madeira.

“You are being ridiculous. Your father and brother would never tolerate such a thing.”

“The estate may belong to my father, but it is my fortune that keeps it profitable,” he said with a magnificent lack of modesty. “He has no say in who I may choose to keep in my care.”

“My God, your arrogance is beyond belief.”

“Yes, you have mentioned that before.”

“Then allow me to mention this—I have no intention of going to Madeira with you.”

His brows slowly lifted. “Are you deliberately attempting to be contrary,
meu amor?
Just a moment ago you were complaining because I was going to toss you aside rather than take you to my estate, now you claim you will not go.”

“I was not complaining…” She heaved an irritating sigh. “I was pointing out that I am merely a distraction that you will soon grow weary of. When that day comes, what do you suppose will happen to me?”

He paused, studying her tight expression with a strange intensity. “What do you desire to happen?”

“What?”

“What is it you want for your future?” he demanded. “Do you truly want to return to your father and that remote village?”

She lowered her gaze to where his fingers lightly stroked her wrists. Carlos had asked the same question. Unfortunately, she still had no answer. None beyond the obvious.

“It is my home.”

Not surprisingly he shrugged aside her response. “A home is not a prison. At least it should not be. Your father is content with his tiny cottage and role of notorious highwayman. You were meant for much more.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “To be some man's mistress?”

“Surely that is better than ending up as a wife to some dreary farmer?” he demanded, stubbornly refusing to accept responsibility for having stolen away the life that might have been hers.

Her lips thinned with annoyance. “It would at least be respectable.”

“Respectable? A highly overrated virtue, I have always thought.”

“You would.”

The elegant male features tightened, as if he was being harassed beyond bearing. And perhaps he did feel harassed, she acknowledged wryly. Thus far she had yet to meet anyone that would actually dare to stand firm in the face of his considerable will. Well, perhaps Carlos, she amended. But it seemed that most of the world devoted itself to pampering to his outrageous conceit.

“Do you know how many women long to be given the opportunity to be rescued from the tedious bonds of matrimony?” His gaze slid deliberately down to the low scoop of her bodice. “You would be choking on boredom within a fortnight.”

Her chin tilted another notch. “Not if I happened to love the farmer.”

Expecting derision at her words, Raine was puzzled by the flare of emotion that darkened his green eyes.

“Love?” he said harshly. “Do you even know the meaning of the word?”

She blinked at his odd reaction. “I daresay I know better than you.”

“Have you ever been in love,
querida?
”

“Of course.” She licked her dry lips, sharply conscious of his gaze lingering on the unwitting gesture. “I love my father, and our housekeeper, Mrs. Stone, and Foster…”

“That is not at all the same, as you well know,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up her bare arms to grasp her shoulders. “Have you ever given yourself entirely to another? Have you ever allowed a man to truly know the woman beneath that astonishing beauty?”

Raine shivered, as much from his fierce words as from the searing heat of his touch. Lud, what did he want from her? Was he so cruel that he would not be satisfied until he had managed to break her heart? Did his vanity demand absolute possession?

The thought was enough to chill her blood.

“What does it matter to you?” she demanded.

His lips twisted with a hint of self-mockery. “That is a question I have asked myself too often.”

Raine gave an unconscious shake of her head. She was not sophisticated enough to play this particular game. Her emotions were too vulnerable, too easily manipulated by Philippe. He could wound her with very little effort.

“I think that we have strayed rather far from the point,” she muttered.

“True enough.” His fingers absently skimmed along the plunging line of her bodice, almost as if he were not even aware of his intimate caress. Raine, on the other hand, was vibrantly aware of the sparks of pleasure his touch was arousing. She might battle to protect her ridiculous heart, but her body had long ago declared defeat. “You still have yet to explain why you rewarded my very generous gift with a tantrum worthy of a spoiled child.”

“God almighty, have you listened to a word that I have said?”

“You have said a great number of words, none of which have made the least amount of sense.” His fingers tugged at the ribbons that held her bodice together. “Perhaps the trouble is that I bothered with a conversation at all. We seem to communicate much more effectively without words.”

Before she could protest he was tugging her bodice downward, ripping aside the light shift and exposing her breasts to his avid gaze. She clenched her teeth as her nipples tightened and a familiar ache bloomed in the pit of her stomach. Raine might resent the manner that Philippe could arouse her with the merest touch, but there seemed no means to resist.

“You think you can seduce me to your will?” she demanded even as her body softened beneath the heated kisses he scattered over the curve of her breasts.

Philippe pulled back as he slid his hand beneath the hem of her skirts. A smile touched his lips as his probing fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“I think that I don't give a damn about anything but sinking myself deep into your body,” he replied huskily, his eyes dark with hunger. “If I cannot please you with jewels, then I will please you with this.”

Her lips parted to protest, but before the words could be uttered Philippe had bent down to replace his fingers with his mouth. She moaned softly as he nibbled his way up her inner thigh, and then his tongue was tracing through her damp heat.

A brief warning that she should refuse flitted through the back of her mind. This was hardly the way to convince him that she was genuinely opposed to being his mistress.

But a larger part of her was already sinking in the sensuous delight. What was the point in fighting? They both knew that she found his touch irresistible.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as her body began to arch. “This changes nothing,” she gasped.

“You're wrong,
meu amor.
” Philippe tugged her legs even farther apart as he settled between them. “This changes everything.”

 

R
AINE AWOKE TO DISCOVER
herself alone in the bed. She had not intended to fall asleep. It was, after all, only midafternoon. But the combination of her restless night and the insatiable demands of Philippe's lovemaking had taken their toll.

Feeling slightly sore and utterly sated, Raine forced herself to a seated position. There was something rather decadent about waking completely naked with her hair tumbling down her back, she decided as she glanced toward the mirror in the corner.

She stiffened as she caught sight of her reflection. Not because she looked like a thoroughly ravished gypsy with her tousled blond curls and flushed cheeks. Or because her pale skin still carried the marks of Philippe's touch.

It was the brilliant sparkle of diamonds that encircled her neck that made her muscles tense and her eyes flash.

Of all the unmitigated nerve.

Philippe had waited until she had fallen asleep to place his leash of ownership about her neck.

With a sense of premonition, she turned her head to discover the flawless ruby necklace, along with the amber pendant, had been carefully placed on the pillow.

Well, if he thought he could have the last word on that subject he was very much mistaken, she decided as she flounced from the bed and wrapped herself in a robe. Without bothering to brush her hair or pull on her slippers, she headed out of her chambers and down the hall.

No doubt most women would consider her a fool. Bloody hell, she
was
a fool. The necklaces that Philippe offered her were worth a small fortune. With them she could live the rest of her days without the least concern for money. She could travel far away from Knightsbridge. She could enjoy the delights of London or Paris or Rome. She could be truly independent in a manner she could never have dared hope for.

Even if she decided to remain in the village she could always use the outlandish jewels to rescue every widow, orphan and aging soldier that might need assistance.

However foolish, she was not keeping the necklaces. Not when they made her feel as if she had sold her soul to the devil.

Entering the drawing room, Raine came to an abrupt halt as she realized that the tall, male form standing beside the window was not Philippe. Instead, it was Carlos who slowly turned and regarded her with a slow, very thorough survey.

A blush rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he must be seeing. A young, half-naked woman who had clearly just climbed from her bed.

“Forgive me…” she breathed, her hands clutching the robe tightly around her body. “I did not realize you were here.”

An unmistakable heat entered his eyes as Carlos strolled forward. “I am happy you did not. I sense you would never have agreed to join me,” he said, firmly clasping her elbow to steer her toward the fire. “Come, you must be cold.”

Despite the voice of decency that warned she should return to her chambers, Raine allowed herself to be seated in one of the leather wing chairs. Over the past days she had discovered that beneath Carlos's wicked charm there was an unexpected strength in his character. He was a man who could be depended upon in times of trouble.

“I was searching for Philippe,” she said in a tone that revealed her displeasure.

A dark brow quirked as Carlos leaned against the mantel, his arms folded across the considerable width of his chest.

“He said something of enjoying a hot bath and short nap before returning to Paris.”

Her eyes widened. “He intends to return today?”

“Sim.”

“Of all the idiotic notions. Obviously he will not be satisfied until he has made himself ill.”