A Daring Passion (36 page)

“I like the feel of you,” she whispered. “Your skin is so warm.”

He gave a choked groan, his breath coming in great rasps. “It is on fire,
meu amor.
Your touch has set me aflame.”

When her hands at last reached the large thrust of his erection she briefly paused, and then with a tentative touch she stroked down the pulsing shaft until she reached the soft pouches beneath.

Philippe's hips jerked off the mattress, his hand tugging her head toward his lips so that he could kiss her with a searing urgency. His tongue thrust between her lips just as his cock surged between her fingers. Raine tightened her grip, her head spinning beneath his devouring lips.

Beneath her touch his body trembled, a fine shimmer of perspiration coating his skin. For once he was not the practiced seducer in command of their lovemaking. Instead he was caught in the throes of her touch, of the pleasure she was capable of giving him.

An unexpected flare of satisfaction touched her heart and she wanted to please him, to know that she could make him shiver and plead for more.

She wanted the memory of her etched so deeply he would never be capable of forgetting her.

Unaware of the poignant sadness that tugged at her heart, Philippe pulled back with a rasping growl.

“Oh…God. I need to be inside you,
meu amor,
” he said in thick tones. “I want to feel you riding me.”

Not at all certain what he meant, Raine gave a startled gasp when he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She braced her hands on his chest as she stared down at his flushed countenance, her legs straddling his hips. He held her gaze with ease as he used one hand to adjust his erection, his other hand on her hip as he guided her downward.

Raine's heavy lids lowered as she was slowly impaled by his rigid flesh, and when he began to roughly thrust his hips, she tilted back her head and allowed him to take control.

In this moment he belonged utterly to her.

It was a memory that would have to warm her in the lonely years ahead.

P
HILIPPE AWOKE WITH A
rare sense of contentment. Not that it wasn't always pleasurable to awake beside Raine, he ruefully acknowledged. What man in his right mind would not be delighted to discover his arms filled with such a beautiful woman? But on this morning there was a new satisfaction.

Meu Deus,
Raine had offered herself so sweetly last night. There had been no barriers, no conflict, no sense of grudging acceptance. Instead she had been openly wanton, giving and taking pleasure with such abandon that he had been forced more than once to plead for her to end his torment and bring him to satisfaction.

Strange to think that he would enjoy being at a woman's mercy. Certainly he would never have allowed any other female to gain the upper hand. Not in his bed and not in his life.

But with Raine…with Raine all he could comprehend during the blaze of searing pleasure was that she had at last opened herself to him. She had held nothing back as she had led him to paradise over and over.

She had accepted that she belonged to him utterly.

Reluctantly rising from the bed where Raine sprawled in naked splendor, he forced himself to ignore the urge to wake her with a kiss. He was already hard and aching. One touch and he would forget the determination to continue his hunt of Seurat.

In Raine's arms he could forget his brother's desperate plight, his need to be done with this business and return to the duties of his estate and even the demands of the king.

Which only made it more imperative that he be done with this unpleasant task so that he could sweep Raine off to Madeira. Once there he intended to sate himself until he could at last rid himself of this obsession. Only then would he be capable of returning his attention to the endless responsibilities that awaited him.

Within the hour he was bathed and dressed. Pausing beside the bed, he leaned down to regard Raine with a faint smile. She looked so tiny upon the large bed, so fragile. With care not to wake her, Philippe reached down to touch the tiny locket that lay against her breast. The gold was tarnished, but it glowed with a surprising warmth against her ivory skin. As if his mother approved.

Giving a shake of his head at his odd fancy, Philippe turned and left the room. He truly was out of his wits, he conceded as he headed through the cottage. But on this morning he could not seem to make himself care.

He entered the kitchen to discover Carlos finishing his breakfast. The younger man glanced up at his entrance, his brows slowly lifting.

“Good morning, Philippe, you are appearing particularly pleased with yourself,” he murmured. “Has there been word of Seurat?”

Philippe did not attempt to wipe the smile from his lips. It would be an impossible task when his body still ached with sweet release and the taste of Raine was still on his tongue.

With a shrug he reached for a fresh croissant and devoured it in a few bites. “Not as yet, but I intend to change that today.”

Carlos rose to his feet. “You are going to Paris?”

“I am leaving now.” He moved to pull on his greatcoat, pausing as he sent his companion a searching gaze. “You will remain here to keep a guard on Raine?”

There was an unexpected pause before Carlos gave a nod of his head. “If that is your wish.”

Philippe halted, a frown tugging at his brows. “You had other plans for the day?”

“Nothing that cannot be altered. When do you expect to return?”

Philippe's frown deepened. There was a stiffness to Carlos that he found odd. As if the younger man were attempting to hide something from him.

“It is difficult to say. I may remain for dinner with Frankford. I would like to have word of what is happening in the world. Soon enough I shall be able to return my attention to my neglected business, I do not wish to be entirely ignorant.” He grimaced, disliking the notion of being absent from the cottage for the entire evening. “And there is the possibility that he might have some news of Jean-Pierre. Gossip travels swiftly, even across the channel.”

Carlos placed his hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “The king will do nothing irrevocable without contacting you first. He owes you too much.”

“The king is a selfish child who is often at the mercy of his own whims. If he should take it into his mind that Jean-Pierre is a threat to his throne he will have him executed before calmer minds can prevail.”

His dark eyes narrowed with a grim determination. “We shall have Seurat captured before the king can indulge in one of his fits of madness.”

“I pray you are right.” Philippe smiled wryly and glanced toward the door. “Take care of Raine.”

Carlos dropped his hand from his shoulder and heaved a faint sigh. “It is a heavy burden you place on my shoulders,
amigo.
”

Philippe stilled, once again sensing that his companion was troubled. “Carlos? What is it?”

Stepping back Carlos smiled with a wry amusement. “Be on your way, Philippe. Raine is safe in my hands.”

 

D
ARKNESS HAD DESCENDED
before Raine heard the sound of Carlos entering through the back door. At last. She had been pacing the floor for hours, terrified that he would not return in time.

Shuddering with relief, she forced herself to await him in the drawing room. The lower floor would be filled with servants bustling about to prepare dinner. What she had to say to Carlos needed absolute privacy.

Another ten minutes passed before she heard his approaching footsteps and he finally entered the room. His dark hair was rumpled and his cheeks reddened by the cold wind, but that did nothing to soften the raw power he brought with him.

With a small sound of relief she flew across the room to grasp his arm in a tight grip.

“Oh, thank God, I did not think you would ever return.”

His gaze ran a restless path over her upturned face before he grimaced and pulled his arm from her grip. “I have only been gone a few hours,
anjo.
It was not a simple matter to discover someone willing to offer a suitable sum for your jewels.”

She paused in astonishment at his words. “But why? You said they were worth a fortune.”

“And so they are, but not if the person buying them believes them to be stolen.” His smile was mocking. “There are few who would believe that the son of a Portuguese fisherman would have claim to such valuable property.”

“Oh.” Raine lifted a hand to her heart, stark regret flaring through her. Lud, but there were moments when she truly was stupid. She would never do anything to hurt this man. Not even if it meant assisting Philippe. “I never thought…I am sorry, Carlos.”

He gave a shake of his head, his expression revealing that he had no desire to speak of the hours he spent attempting to sell the jewels.

“It does not matter, I have managed to acquire what you need.”

“A good thing.” She reached into her sleeve to pull out the crumpled note she had read a dozen times while she waited for Carlos's return. “A boy brought this to the door just after luncheon.”

Smoothing the torn piece of vellum, Carlos swiftly read through the short note. It said nothing more than that Raine was to come alone to meet Seurat in the cemetery of Pere-Lachaise at half past nine. And to bring the money she had promised.

Carlos lifted his head, his expression grim. “The cemetery is not far, but we do not have much time.”

“We?” Raine gave a wild shake of her head. “No, Carlos, you cannot go. If Seurat catches a glimpse of you he is certain to bolt.”

Carlos reached out to grasp her shoulders in a tight grip, his eyes smoldering with an unreadable emotion. “I will remain out of sight, but do not think for a moment that I will allow you to go to this meeting without me. For all we know it could be a trap.”

Raine swallowed her sigh. It would be pleasant to just once have a man who did not feel the compulsion to give her commands.

“That is ridiculous.” She met his gaze squarely. “If Seurat desired to hurt me he could have done so while he had me in his rooms. All he desires is the ability to live his life with a bit of dignity.”

“He is a madman.” He gave her a slight shake. “Who can say what he might take it in his mind to do?”

“Carlos…”

“No,” he growled in warning. “Either I go or I will lock you in your rooms and reveal all to Philippe when he returns. There will be no debate on this.”

Raine rolled her eyes, not doubting for a moment he would lock her away. Carlos had agreed to assist her, but it would be by his rules.

“Very well, but you must not allow Seurat to catch sight of you.” With her own command delivered Raine turned and gathered the cloak she had left on a nearby chair. “We must go. If I am late there is no telling what Seurat might do.”

She was busily tugging the cloak around her shoulders when Carlos cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his searching gaze.

“You are certain of this,
anjo?
”

She blinked in puzzlement. “Certain of what?”

His expression was oddly somber as he studied her upturned countenance. “If you meet with Seurat, if you offer him the money necessary to make his escape from Paris, Philippe might never forgive you.”

Raine was startled by the sharp, wrenching pain that twisted her heart. Had she not already accepted her plan would bring an end to her fleeting relationship with Philippe? What did it matter if he walked away with indifference or disgust?

Strangely she realized it did matter. The thought that Philippe might recall their time together with anger rather than fondness made her feel as if a black cloud had settled upon her soul.

Which was absurd, she sternly chided her flare of despondency. What did it matter if Philippe cursed her from dawn to dusk? When he returned to Madeira she would never set eyes upon him again.

She was doing what was right. She could not hesitate out of some foolish fear that Philippe might not appreciate her efforts to assist him. Someday, if there were any justice in the world, he would accept that this was the best solution for everyone involved.

“My decision is made, Carlos,” she said, relieved when her voice did not quaver. “I will see it through.”

She thought she heard him sigh before he squared his shoulders with determination.

“So be it, Raine.” A faint smile touched his lips. “We shall go to the devil together.”

 

T
HE DAY WAS A LONG
and frustrating one for Philippe. Despite the numerous boys that continued to haunt the streets, there had been no sightings of Seurat. And Philippe's own discreet searches of the various buildings had provided nothing more than suspicious glances and a handful of threats to call for the guards.

As he halted before the busy café his every instinct urged him to return to his cottage and the beautiful woman awaiting him.

Once again he was cold and tired and in desperate need of a bit of comfort. Especially the sort of comfort that Raine was willing to provide.

But he had spoken honestly to Carlos. It had been too long since he had sought out information of what was occurring beyond Paris. He had too many people who depended upon him to entirely ignore what was happening in the world beyond.

On the point of dismounting, Philippe was halted as a grimy urchin dashed down the street, clearly attempting to capture his attention.

“Monsieur.”

Philippe waited until the boy skidded to a stop beside his horse.
“Oui?”

“I have a message for you.”

With a flicker of surprise, Philippe reached down to take the crumpled note.
“Merci.”

The boy lingered, and with a faint smile, Philippe reached into his jacket to pull out a handful of coins. He dropped them into the messenger's outstretched hand, then waited until the lad disappeared into the shifting crowd before reading the note.

Philippe's heart gave a sharp leap at the short demand to meet with Belfleur at his shop. It could mean only one thing. Seurat had been found.

Without hesitation he urged his horse into motion and swiftly made his way through the heavy traffic. He was wise enough to keep an eye out for the numerous thugs and cutthroats that plagued the city, but his mind was churning with the fierce satisfaction that soon he would be returning to England and Jean-Pierre would be released from his filthy cell. Just as important, he would be done with this unpleasant task and he could return to his estates.

An unwitting smile touched his lips at the thought of watching Raine as she caught her first sight of Madeira. He knew in his heart she would be captivated by the rugged beauty of his home. How could she not be? There was nothing so magnificent as the craggy cliffs and small coves filled with fishing boats. Or the rolling hills that were covered by his precious vineyards. Even his house was splendid. A sprawling villa that was situated to offer a breathtaking view of the scenery.