A Daring Passion. Rosemary Rogers
“Like your brother.”
“Jean-Pierre. Yes, damn his soul. Not only have I traveled for a fortnight to reach this dismal country, but now it appears I shall be forced to journey to France.”
She blinked at the edge in his voice. “You make it sound as if it is something terrible. There are a great number of people who would be in raptures at the thought of spending their days in such a lovely place.” Her lips twisted. “Especially if they possessed the funds to stay at the most elegant châteaus and palaces in the world.”
Philippe stiffened as she unwittingly touched the wound that festered deep inside him.
“I…dislike France.”
Her dark gaze searched his countenance; no doubt she sensed the coldness that was beginning to chase away the delicious heat that had so briefly held him in its grip.
“But, you said you were born there.”
“A perfect reason to hold it in abhorrence, would you not agree?”
A grudging smile twitched at her lips. “Perhaps to a certain extent, but not even your birth there can make me think of France as anything but a wondrous place.”
“Then perhaps I shall take you with me when I go,” Philippe said before he even knew the words were going to come out of his mouth. He did not know where they came from, or what had even prompted the strange compulsion, but once he recovered from his momentary shock he realized that it felt…right.
If he were forced to travel through detestable France in search of an unknown enemy from his past, he surely deserved to have some compensation?
Raine widened her eyes in disbelief at his words. “What did you say?”
He deliberately stroked his fingers down the slender curve of her hip. “I will no doubt be occupied with my tasks much of the time, but there will be moments I could slip away to be with you.”
“And you think I would be sitting around simply awaiting you to find a moment for me?”
“It is surely better than continuing your rather dangerous occupation as a highwayman,” he replied as his roaming hand reached the soft curve of her backside.
“I am not…” She snapped her lips together and gave a shake of her head. “No.”
“That is not a word often used in my presence, querida.”
Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “I will not become your…mistress. And I certainly will not travel to France.”
Philippe was genuinely startled. He had never considered himself particularly vain, but after years of having women plotting and scheming to attract his attention he was jaded enough to expect most females to be delighted at the thought of being in his company.
Especially a young woman who was no more than the daughter of a highwayman, no matter what her education.
“And what is it you object to, Raine? Becoming my mistress or traveling to France?”
“Both.”
An unexpected flare of anger raced through him. This woman had given him her innocence. He had felt her shudder her climax in his arms. And even now he could feel her body stir beneath his light touch. He had given her the first taste of passion she had ever experienced.
Not to mention the fact he could buy her anything her maidenly heart might desire.
She should be in raptures.
Instead a mulish expression was settled on her features.
“You said that you thought France so wondrous.”
“It is, but I must return to my father. He will be worried sick and there is no telling what he may do if I do not appear soon.”
Philippe gave a lift of his brows. “You believe you can return home as if nothing has happened?”
“Why should I not? It is not as if…”
“What?”
“It is not as if anything has truly changed.”
The anger within him deepened. How dare she pretend that what had occurred between them had been a meaningless mating that would be easily forgotten. There had been enough heat between them to set London on fire.
Just for a moment Philippe wondered why he cared whether or not she had been enraptured by his lovemaking. If the stupid chit preferred to return and live among the rustics as her beauty faded to nothing, then so be it. Certainly she was a distraction he did not need.
But the thought of allowing her to slip from his grasp was unthinkable. Not so long as she could drive him to madness with one glance from those magnificent eyes.
“If you believe that you are a fool,” he said, his voice dangerously soft.
Her expression became wary. So, not so stupid, he acknowledged, as he tugged one slender leg over his hip to discover the softness of her inner thigh.
Raine shivered. “I suppose your conceit makes you believe that any woman who has shared your bed must be irrevocably altered?”
Bending downward, he nuzzled her neck. “Something like that.”
“Well, I can assure you that I…” Her words trailed to a low groan as he gently slid into her damp heat. “Philippe, what are you doing?”
Philippe slowly began to thrust, his body turning to molten fire.
“Irrevocably altering you,” he whispered.
PHILIPPE WAS STILL AWAKE when the sun crested the horizon.
Although he was exhausted, there was an odd sort of peace in holding Raine in his arms as he had watched her sleep. Perhaps because she was one of the few people in the world who was not demanding something from him, he ruefully acknowledged.
Nothing but her freedom, an unwelcome voice whispered in the back of his mind.
It was a voice that was easily dismissed.
He did not doubt for a moment that once he had Raine in France and surrounded by luxury, she would soon forget any desire to return home.
Bending his head, Philippe brushed his lips over hers until her lashes lifted to reveal a sleepy pair of eyes.
“Good morning, querida.”
She frowned in confusion. “What is the time?”
He smiled. “Far too early to be awake, but I have several appointments that I must keep. I will try to return by luncheon so that I can bring you a tray. Do you have anything you particularly wish?”
Her eyes widened. “You intend to leave me locked in this room all morning?”
He gently tucked an unruly curl behind her ear. “I cannot take you with me and I do not yet trust that you will not run amok in London the moment my back is turned. Besides, you had a late night. It will do you good to rest.”
“I do not want to rest.” Her hands lifted to press against his chest. “I want to return home.”
A chill inched down his spine at her words. “Your home is now with me, Raine. It will behoove you to remember that.”
“My father…”
He swooped down to halt her words with a fierce kiss. She would learn that her place was with him. Pulling back, he regarded her with a narrowed gaze.
“Your father was a careless, some might claim a worthless, protector for you. I shall take a great deal more care of you.”
That stubborn expression settled on her pale features. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and the last thing I desire is a…a protector. Especially if it is you.”
The anger that only she could manage to stir flared through him before Philippe was