A Daring Passion. Rosemary Rogers
came in small bursts as the world narrowed to the man looming over her.
“The only certain means of ensuring his innocence is to capture the bastard who contrived the trap. Of course, I must first find him,” he said, although it was obvious his mind was on things other than his words.
“Well, he certainly is not in this nursery,” she rasped.
“No.” His hand once again returned to her throat, as if he truly were fascinated by the feel of her skin. “Actually, it is doubtful he is even in England. I would guess that he made his way back to France the moment my brother was arrested.”
“Then should you not be chasing after the villain?”
His head lowered until his lips were brushing her temple. “There are matters here that I must tend to before I can begin any chase. Matters that will have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, I can think of a most pleasant means of passing the remainder of the night.”
His lips brushed down the curve of her cheek, lingering at the edge of her mouth.
“Wait…” she breathed as her heart thundered. Dear God, her entire body felt as if it were on fire. Her skin prickled with excitement, her stomach twisted in knots and something lower ached with a desire that was directly connected to this man.
And even more terrifying was the realization that she no longer wanted to fight this terrible desire.
The nuns might have drilled into her the stark importance of a woman maintaining her virginity until she was properly married, but Raine was a realist at heart.
She had already accepted that there was no husband and no happily-ever-after in her future. And that was before she had gone missing for God only knew how long, kept in the house of a rake.
There would be no one in her future. At least no one who would care whether or not her innocence was intact.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Philippe nibbled at the lobe of her ear, his hands lightly running down her arms.
“I can wait no longer, querida,” he whispered. “You have me mad with need.”
Mad. Yes. It was madness, she thought as he scooped her into his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed. Her gaze remained locked on his extraordinary face as she felt herself lowered onto the mattress, and then he was lying next to her, the hardness of his features unexpectedly softened with need.
Her body felt awkward as his arms gathered her close, her hands not knowing where to go until they at last settled on his shoulders. Thankfully Philippe seemed unaware of her unease as he ran his hands down her back and whispered words of encouragement.
“Yes, Raine, touch me, I need to feel your hands against me.”
His hands slid beneath her jacket and began to gently knead her stiff muscles. Slowly she began to relax beneath his touch and his lips brushed down the length of her nose and ever so lightly over her mouth.
She trembled as her lashes drifted downward. “I must be out of my mind.”
“No, meu amor, this was destined from the moment we met.”
Destiny seemed far preferable to simply lust, and as his mouth closed over hers in a searching kiss, she allowed her brief flare of sanity to melt away. Desire, as sweet and warm as the finest liqueur, flowed through her body and her fingers bit deeply into his shoulders.
Hesitantly, she began to return his kiss, a low moan lodging in her throat as he threaded his fingers through the heavy mass of her hair.
His touch was so gentle, almost reverent as he smoothed the tresses from her face. It was at complete odds with the pulsing hardness of the male body that he pressed to hers. She knew enough to realize that he was already prepared to take her, but there was no haste in his seduction.
His lips moved down the line of her jaw, pausing to occasionally take a light nip before he buried his face in the curve of her neck and breathing deeply of her scent.
Oddly, Raine had expected the heat and tension that flowed between them, but she hadn’t expected the sense of being…cherished. It undermined any lingering qualms, and she readily welcomed the scorching heat of his mouth as it returned to hers.
With a smooth motion his hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing the tight bud of her nipple and making her shudder in reaction.
As if waiting for that telltale response he began tugging at the buttons of her jacket and pulling it aside. Her boots and trousers were just as easily dealt with and, quicker than Raine could ever imagine, she found herself completely naked.
At first she was merely relieved to have the offending garments out of the way. Her skin felt far too sensitive to bear the scratchy wool. But as he paused and pulled back, her eyes lifted to discover him regarding her with such intensity that she was swiftly embarrassed.
She would have covered herself if he hadn’t grabbed her arm and pushed it back onto the mattress.
“No, meu amor, do not hide from me,” he rasped, a hint of color marring the angular line of his cheekbones. “You are so beautiful. So…”
A groan was wrenched from his throat as he impatiently tugged on his cravat and pulled off his jacket. His movements were strangely jerky as he managed to wrestle himself out of his waistcoat and pulled his linen shirt over his head.
Raine caught her breath at the sight of his broad chest faintly dusted with dark hair, but before she could fully appreciate the spectacular sight he was lowering his head and kissing her with a growing urgency.
Still holding her arms pinned to the bed, he allowed his mouth to begin to explore her body with frustrating leisure. He lingered at the base of her throat, planting teasing kisses over the line of her collarbone and then, at last, he found the straining tip of her breast.
Raine released a shaky sigh as the pleasure blistered through her body and curled her toes. Dear God, she hadn’t known that anything could feel so wickedly wonderful. The heat of his lips as they suckled her, the rough caress of his tongue and even the gentle tug of his teeth. It was all enough to make her arch upward in a shuddering bliss.
“That’s it, Raine,” he urged against her skin. “Let me please you.”
Raine thought if he pleased her any more she might actually scream. There could surely be nothing better than this?
He taught her that she was mistaken as his hands skimmed down the curves of her body. Wherever they traveled they left behind a shimmer of excitement, like tiny fireworks flaring over her skin.
Her breath caught and held in her throat as his hands reached her legs and gently tugged them apart. Just for a moment she resisted, uncertain what he was demanding.
“Let me touch you,” he muttered, his mouth moving to tease the hollow between her breasts. “I want to feel your heat.”
Ever so slowly her legs parted and his fingers stroked the inner skin of her thighs. Raine clenched the blanket beneath her as the roaming fingers found her moist parting and stroked between the tender folds.
“Philippe,” she gasped.
His head lifted to watch her with eyes that smoldered with such heat that she nearly gasped.
“You are ready for me, meu amor. So warm and wet.”
Raine blushed as she realized that there was, indeed, an unaccountable dampness between her legs as his clever fingers continued to stroke and tease her. Her embarrassment, however, was no match for the swelling tension that clutched her body.
There was something just out of reach. A beckoning enticement that made her shiver and twist beneath his touch.
“Shh,” he murmured, “I will ease what ails you, sweet Raine.”
With her eyes squeezed shut she heard the rustle of Philippe removing the last of his clothing, and then shockingly she felt the