A Daring Passion (8 page)

“I will hold you to that.”

O
NCE ALONE IN THE BARREN
room, Raine wrapped her arms about her trembling body and sternly dismissed the memory of Philippe's kisses.

Why waste her time dwelling on her giddy reaction to his touch? The man was clearly an expert in seduction. He had only to be near for her heart to beat quicker and her skin to tingle with awareness. It was a dark longing that she feared would plague her until she was far away from the hateful man.

She would do better to concentrate on finding some means of escape.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for her to realize that it was a futile exercise.

The door was thick and impossible to budge no matter how she pushed, and the one window was far too narrow for even her slender form. Even worse, the rooms were bare except for a decrepit cradle and small bed.

She had nothing that could possibly be used as a weapon for when her captor returned.

“Welcome to London, Raine Wimbourne,” she muttered wryly.

When she had dreamed of this moment, her fantasies had certainly not included being dressed in her father's cast-off clothing and being held prisoner in a musty attic.

Oh, no. She had imagined herself dressed in the finest of silks as she attended the elegant Season. There would be nights at the theater, opulent balls and exclusive soirees. She would acquire a large collection of friends who would invite her to picnics and luncheons where they could giggle and gossip over tea.

And, of course, there would be gentlemen. Handsome young blades that would be bewitched and bedazzled by her charm. Their dark hair would shimmer in the candlelight and their green eyes would heat with a barely restrained desire and…

Her delightful daydream was abruptly shattered as she realized the face that had risen to her mind.

Damn the irritating man, he haunted her even when he was not in the room.

As if to add to her torment, there was a sudden scrape in the hall and then the door was thrust open to reveal the man who had become her personal nemesis.

She stepped instinctively backward as his large form seemed to consume the room as it had consumed the carriage. He had shed his greatcoat to reveal a tailored charcoal-gray jacket and black breeches that molded to his muscular body with an indecent perfection.

Raine's heart fluttered and she desperately turned her attention to the heavy tray he balanced in his hands and the thick blanket he had tossed over his arm.

A delicious aroma swirled through the air, making Raine's stomach rumble in response, and she narrowed her eyes. She was wise enough to be wary of Greeks bearing gifts.

Especially Greeks who looked like gods.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said as he brushed past her and placed the tray on the floor before spreading the blanket on the bed and sitting on the edge. “I had to make do with what I could pilfer from the kitchen, but there is some smoked ham and cheese, as well as freshly baked bread.”

Raine stiffened as she realized that he intended to stay. “You expect us to share dinner?” she demanded.

“Why not?”

Her chin tilted. “In case you have forgotten, I am your prisoner, not your guest.”

“I have forgotten nothing.” His gaze flicked over her tense form. “But at the moment I am tired and hungry and I have no intention of attacking you. Not unless you ask nicely.”

“Must you say such offensive things to me?”

“I do not suppose I must, but it is so terribly enjoyable.” His lips abruptly twisted and he lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as if he truly was weary. “Come, Raine, sit down and eat before you swoon.”

It was the realization that he was right that led her cautiously to the bed. She had eaten nothing since early that morning, and she would be a fool to allow herself to be weakened by hunger. The Lord knew that she needed every scrap of strength she could muster.

With grudging reluctance she perched on the edge of the mattress and watched as Philippe filled a plate with the bounty. For the first time Raine noticed the faint dark whiskers that were beginning to shadow his jaw and the hint of bruising beneath his glorious eyes.

Strangely the signs of fatigue did nothing to mar his astonishing beauty. Indeed, they helped to soften the austere perfection, making him appear far more approachable.

A dangerous illusion, she sternly warned herself. This man was a lethal predator that would go to any lengths to achieve his goals.

Taking the plate he offered, Raine began consuming the delicious food. It was only when she had nearly cleared her plate that she sensed Philippe's gaze trained on her.

She lifted her head to discover him gazing at her with an odd smile.

“What?” she demanded defensively.

He reached to take her plate and set it along with his own on the tray.

“I was admiring your appetite. I detest those women who are forever pecking at their food, as if a gentleman would be offended that she might actually eat.” The quality of his smile altered, becoming warmer and infinitely more dangerous. “It is enticing to see a woman who enjoys her food.”

“Which I suppose means that I am no lady?” she said sharply.

His green eyes watched her with an unnerving intensity. As if he was seeing far more than her defensive frown. As if he was looking straight into her vulnerable heart.

“I meant my words as a compliment. Are you always so prickly?” he murmured.

His voice was low and intimate, sliding down her spine like warm honey. She shivered in response, desperately attempting to ignore the sheer intimacy of the dark room.

“Only when I am being held hostage.”

He leaned close enough that his warm breath brushed her cheek. “Would you prefer that I haul you to Newgate?”

“You know I would not.”

“Good.” He traced a light path from her temple to the edge of her mouth. “Such beauty would not last long among the savages.”

She pulled back, her eyes flashing. To be honest, she was beginning to suspect that he had never had any intention of turning her over to the authorities.

“That does not mean I want to remain here with you.”

His smile widened. “You have run out of options,
menina pequena.
”

“Why?” With an abrupt motion she was on her feet, her arms wrapped about her waist. “Why can you not simply allow me to leave?”

“And where would you go? Do you truly believe you could wander the dark streets of London alone and not be molested or perhaps even killed?” He gave a shake of his head. “You truly are an innocent.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He merely laughed at her brave words, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. “If that were true you would not be in my clutches.”

“You really are detestable.”

“Me?” Something that might have been annoyance flashed through his eyes. “I was not the one to send you out alone in the dark. Or to encourage you to risk that lovely neck by playing such a dangerous charade. If you are determined to blame someone, it should be your father.”

“Do not speak of my father. He is a far greater man than you could ever hope to be.”

His eyes narrowed. “I, at least, know how to take care of my family.”

For some reason his words caught her off guard. “You have a family?”

His annoyance melted as he regarded her with a hint of mockery. “Of course I do. Did you think I just appeared beneath a rock?”

“I assumed you were kicked out of hell.”

There was a pause as he walked toward the fireplace and leaned against the mantel. His tall, lean frame appeared casually at ease, but Raine sensed an underlying tension that hummed about him.

“I have a father and a brother.”

Raine found herself curious in spite of herself. This man was like none other that she had ever encountered. At times he was as cold and distant as the stars. And then she would catch a glimpse of the man beneath his hard exterior. A man she suspected could be warm and gentle.

“Are they anything like you?”

“Not in the least.” A smile touched his lips, but there was an edge of bitterness in his voice. “You would no doubt love them. Everyone else certainly does.”

“You sound envious.”

“Do I?” He shrugged. “Perhaps I do envy their ability to fritter away their lives without a thought to the consequences of their irresponsible habits. They are charming and witty and utterly committed to their own pleasures at the expense of everyone, including myself.”

She studied the austere lines of his countenance. He did not need to tell her that he accepted responsibility for his feckless family. His every feature was etched with the commanding authority that had no doubt been thrust on him at far too early an age.

Raine battled against the grudging respect that flared through her heart. She was a woman who admired loyalty above all things. Especially loyalty to one's family.

“And what are you committed to?” she demanded.

His gaze dropped to study the toe of his boot. As if he was debating precisely how much to share with her. At last his eyes lifted and Raine caught her breath at the fierce glitter in the emerald depths.

“At the moment I am committed to rescuing my brother from yet another tragedy.”

“He is in London?”

“Actually he is a resident of Newgate.”

Raine did not bother to hide her shock. “Newgate prison? You must be jesting.”

“I wish that I were.” A muscle twitched at the base of his jaw. “As irritating as I might occasionally find Jean-Pierre, he does not deserve this particular punishment.”

“What did he do?”

“He is accused of treason.”

Treason? She unconsciously stepped closer, her eyes wide with disbelief. “And you treat me as a criminal? I have done nothing more than take a handful of coins and jewels.”

His lips thinned, the green eyes so cold and hard that they sent a chill over her skin. “For once he is innocent of any crime. He is being used to punish my family by an old and nearly forgotten enemy. An enemy who realized that my brother was the most vulnerable and easily captured in his trap.”

It all sounded wildly improbable. A wealthy young gentleman of a good family accused of treason. A nefarious enemy from the past appearing and then mysteriously disappearing. Really, it sounded like something that Shakespeare might have invented.

But she couldn't imagine that Philippe would make up such a tale. Not when it would involve his family in a scandal. His pride was nearly as inflated as his conceit.

“So you are here to rescue him?”

“If you are asking if I intend to charge the prison and set him free, then no. I am here to find some means to prove his innocence.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “No doubt a trifling matter for a man in your position. You can afford to convince any number of judges of your brother's innocence.”

“Perhaps for any other crime, but not treason.” With a sudden movement he pushed away from the mantel and paced across the cramped room. “The king has always possessed a terror that he might be betrayed, and he cannot allow anyone to be seen as being forgiven for such a crime. It might give others the notion that he approves of sedition. If I do not find the means of clearing Jean-Pierre he will be sacrificed as an example to all.”

Raine bit her lip. Her heart was far too tender not to be touched by the idea of any young man being held in prison and confronting the thought of his own death.

He must be so terrified, so sick at heart, as he was forced to wait for his brother to find some means to free him.

Still, she was not about to forget that this gentleman holding her captive did not possess her own compassion.

“So you are anxious to keep your brother from the hangman?” she said.

He turned to face her. “Of course.”

“Just as I was anxious to keep my father from the hangman.”

He studied her for a long moment before the hard features slowly softened and that wicked smile began to play at his mouth. With a deliberate motion he moved to stand directly before her.

“Ah, but I have yet to break the law to do so,” he murmured. “And more important, I have yet to be foolish enough to allow myself to be captured.”

Instinct told her to back away. Even innocent young women understood that it was important to keep a distance between themselves and hardened rakes. Especially when they were already far too attracted to that rake.

Philippe, however, was not alone in possessing his fair share of pride, and the thought of cowering away was enough to make her spine stiffen.

“And what have you done to rescue your brother?” she scoffed. “Kidnapped a harmless woman as you travel to your fancy town house?”

“I have managed to use some of my influence to have Jean-Pierre placed in a private cell and hired a dozen solicitors to keep the trial postponed.” His fingers reached to trace down the curve of her neck. Tiny sparks of heat followed the trail of his knowing fingers, sending a rash of alarm through Raine. “And you were kidnapped because I hoped you would have information of my enemy traveling the roads.”