A Daring Passion (27 page)

A smile played around Carlos's full, devilish lips. Even at ease there was a hint of passionate energy that shimmered about the man. In his own way he was as ruthlessly dangerous as Philippe.

“Once Philippe sets his eye on a task he rarely allows anything or anyone to interfere in his quest,” he said.

Raine rolled her eyes. “Certainly he does not allow simple common sense to interfere in his quest. The man could give lessons to a mule.”

“He does have some similar qualities,” Carlos readily agreed, his dark gaze lowering to the long curve of her throat exposed by the gaping robe. “
Meu Deus.
I presume that is a gift from Philippe? It is quite…ah…”

“Gaudy?” Raine interrupted sharply, a blush staining her cheeks. Gads, she had never been so mortified. To be known as Philippe's lover was one thing. It implied the consent of two willing partners. To be a mistress…well, that made her nothing more than a possession. And the payment for that possession currently hung about her neck like the heaviest of yokes. “Outrageous? Ludicrous?”

With a fluid motion, Carlos crouched beside the chair, his hand reaching out to lightly stroke the gems about her neck.

“I was about to say, exquisite. Not all women could carry the jewels with such elegance. You were clearly born to wear diamonds.”

Startled by the intimate gesture, Raine abruptly rose to her feet and paced toward the center of the room. It was not that she found Carlos's touch distasteful. No woman in her right mind could deny the man was a lethal temptation. But at the moment she had enough to cope with. Adding yet another arrogant, predatory, impossible male to her life was nothing short of madness.

“You are wrong, you know,” she muttered. “I was born to live in a small cottage with my father.”

There was not the slightest sound, but suddenly Carlos was gently turning her to meet his narrowed gaze.

“Not even you could believe that, Raine. Such beauty would be wasted among the savages. You were meant to captivate the world.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh. Did every man presume if a woman possessed passable looks she was anxious to sell herself to the highest bidder?

Or was it just something about her that made men assume that she had nothing but her body to offer? Perhaps there was a wanton wickedness inside her that they could sense.

The thought made her heart sink with despair.

“I do not wish to captivate the world. I only wish…”

“What?” With careful movements, as if afraid he might startle her into flight, Carlos cupped her face in his hands. “What do you wish?”

“What every woman wishes,” she said simply. “To have the love of a good and decent man. To have a home and a family to call my own.”

Thankfully the dark, handsome features held no mockery as he continued to study her pale face. Instead there was nothing more than an amused curiosity.

“And there was no man in that village of yours willing to make you his wife? I find that difficult to believe,
anjo.
”

“It is not difficult to believe at all.” Her lips twisted. “My birth is not of high-enough station to tempt the local aristocrats, and yet my standing and education make the local citizens uneasy. I seem to have no true place in the world.”

“Ah.” Something that might have been sympathy flashed through his eyes. “You are not alone, you know,
anjo.
Not all of us are born with our destinies written in the stars. Which, I have come to discover, is not always a bad thing. We are given the liberty to choose our own paths.”

“That is easy for you to say. You are a man while I am a mere woman.”

He chuckled softly. “You have no need to remind me. It is something I have become painfully aware of.”

“What I mean is that you possess the ability to do what you will without censure from society,” she said with a hint of impatience. “What choices do I have?”

“You persist in thinking of yourself as a meaningless chit in a small village. A woman with your beauty and intelligence could have society bending to your will.” His thumbs caressed the line of her cheekbones. “The world could be yours if only you would have the courage to grasp it.”

Raine pulled back as it became impossible to ignore the less-than-subtle seduction.

“Carlos?”

With a wry smile, Carlos reluctantly allowed his hands to drop. “Tell me, Raine, do you love Philippe?”

She gave a small jerk at the unexpected question. “He kidnapped me.”

His gaze never wavered. “That is no answer.”

Raine turned to pace back to the fire. She feared what might be revealed in her expression.

“Only a fool would love a man like Philippe,” she muttered, “and I am no fool.”

The heat of Carlos's body flared over her as he came to stand directly at her back. Ever so lightly his hands skimmed over her shoulders.

“As much as I dislike admitting it, Philippe does claim a few redeeming qualities.”

“Does he?”

“Sim.”
He toyed with the golden curls that lay against her robe. “Philippe is fiercely devoted to his family despite the knowledge that they are utterly unworthy of his loyalty. He has retrieved his father's estates from the brink of ruin and built them into a vast empire.” There was a short pause. “He also cares for you.”

Raine's breath caught in her throat at Carlos's ridiculous claim. “No, he desires me,” she corrected.

“It is more than that.” His hand shifted to stroke the heavy necklace that bound her neck. “You cannot imagine that he lavishes all women with such stunning trinkets?”

“If he truly cared, then he would have known that buying me these jewels would only embarrass me.”

She could sense Carlos stiffen in surprise. “Why would you be embarrassed?”

“I do not trade my body for wealth.”

He gently tugged a gleaming curl. “Many gentlemen feel more comfortable revealing their affections with such gifts. That does not mean they are paying for your services.”

She gave a shake of her head. “Philippe has no affection to reveal. He…” She was forced to suck in a sharp breath as Carlos trailed his fingers down the opening of her robe. Whatever her complicated feelings for Philippe, it did not prevent her body from reacting to the practiced touch. “He does not want to care for another,” she struggled to continue. “I think his mother's death when he was so young frightened him.”

Carlos pressed even closer. “Frightened him?”

“He is afraid of being hurt and left alone again.”

“Perhaps, but that does not mean a determined woman could not teach him to trust again.”

His warm breath brushed over Raine's ear, and with a choked sound Raine abruptly turned to regard her companion with wide eyes.

“Why do you defend Philippe?” she demanded in a voice that wasn't quite steady.

Carlos shrugged. “Philippe is as close as any brother to me.”

“Yes, but…” A blush touched her cheeks. She was surely not misreading the man's intentions? He had, after all, had his hands beneath her robe. “I mean, you seem to want…”

“You in my bed?” He cut off her awkward stumbling with a wicked smile. “You spread beneath me as I find paradise?”

Raine licked her dry lips. “Do you?”

“Desperately.”

He did not even bother to try to hide the slumberous heat in his eyes as he lowered his head to brush his mouth lightly over her lips.

She gave a bewildered blink. “I do not understand.”

Carlos paused, his dark male features fiercely striking in the flickering candlelight.

“I want you,
anjo,
but I am not so desperate for a woman that I would seduce one who is in love with another man.” His inherent arrogance edged his words. “If you come to my arms I want you thinking of me, not Philippe.”

Raine's brows drew together. “You want me to be your mistress?”

A small, mysterious smile played about his mouth. “Who can say what the future might hold?”

She gave a shake of her head. “Carlos…”

“No.” He touched a finger to her lips to halt her impetuous words. “This is not the time. But know that I am near if you have need of me.”

He claimed a brief, searing kiss before he turned to walk from the room, leaving behind a decidedly bemused Raine.

Good heavens. Men were truly the oddest of creatures.

Still, she could not deny there was a measure of comfort to be found in Carlos's promise.

Someday, no doubt someday very soon, Philippe would grow bored with her, or just as likely, discover another woman more beautiful and more tempting. He would have no more use for her and she would have need of assistance to return to her father.

On that day she sensed she would be turning to Carlos.

P
HILIPPE SMILED WRYLY
as he locked the glittering necklaces in the bottom drawer of the desk located in the corner of his bedchamber.

He had not been surprised to discover the priceless gems tossed on the bed when he had awakened from his nap. A part of him might even have been disappointed if he had not found them there.

The Lord knew he might never comprehend the tangled reasoning that led to Raine's burst of outrage, but he had to admire her unwavering sense of honor. By God, what other woman would turn up her nose at a fortune in jewels just because her pride had been wounded? Especially a woman who had never been allowed to enjoy such pretty baubles in her entire life?

Miss Raine Wimbourne was without a doubt the most exasperating, annoying female he had ever encountered, but she was also the most unique. Even if he had her at his side for a lifetime, he was convinced he would never discover all the fascinating complexities to her character. She would intrigue him for an eternity.

He was not quite certain why the thought pleased him, or why the smile on his lips refused to be dismissed as he left his bedchamber and went in search of Raine.

Dammit all, he should still be furious with the maddening wench. She had not only treated his generous gifts with disdain, but she had branded him nothing less than a blackguard.

A notion that he could not in full honesty deny.

Philippe was not a man who often searched his heart. He did not concern himself with what others might think of him, or bother to consider the feelings of another. He took what he wanted, and damn the consequences. If that made him a selfish beast, then so be it.

Now Raine was forcing him to ponder how his decisions were affecting her. And perhaps for the first time in his life he found himself wondering how to please another.

Searching through the cottage, Philippe at last managed to track down his elusive prey in the dark garden. For a moment he paused in the shadows as he studied the delicate woman. The pure, perfect features were drenched in silver moonlight, her thick curls shimmering like the finest amber. And even wrapped in the velvet cape, she managed to give the impression of fragility. As if the slightest breeze might steal her away.

His lungs squeezed with something close to pain before he was sternly thrusting it aside and moving to stand at Raine's side. He breathed in deeply of her feminine scent as he took her chilled hands and gently rubbed them between his own.

“You should not be out here alone,
querida,
” he said quietly.

Raine became rigid beneath his touch, but she made no effort to pull away. “I can hardly come to harm in the garden.”

“Seurat knows of this cottage and has proved he is willing to approach it without fear. He could be lurking anywhere.”

“He has no reason to bother me. I have done nothing to him.”

“The man is demented,” he reminded her. “It is enough that you are—”

His words broke off as he silently cursed. The woman was his mistress. An exclusive position that ladies around the world longed to fill. Unfortunately, Raine stubbornly refused to be appropriately appreciative of the honor he bestowed upon her, and her dark eyes were already flashing with temper.

“I am what?”

“No, my sweet. I am not stupid enough to walk into that trap.” He heaved a faint sigh. “It is enough that Seurat knows that by harming you he would harm me.”

Her brows drew together at his soft words. “You cannot expect me to remain cloistered in the cottage day and night, Philippe. I will go mad.”

“It will only be for a few days,
meu amor.
Once I have Seurat captured he will no longer be a threat.”

She tugged her hands from his grasp, her lips thinning with annoyance. “So now I am not only to be your captive, but I am to be imprisoned, as well?”

“Hell and damnation, woman,” he muttered. “Would you prefer that I not care if Seurat puts a bullet through your heart?”

“I would prefer that you had not put me in danger in the first place,” she retorted. “After all, you did condemn my father for supposedly risking my neck, did you not? That, at least was my choice.”

“My God, you would try the patience of a saint,” Philippe growled in frustration, jamming his fingers through his hair. He was beginning to suspect that the woman had been put into this world to be a constant torment. “Will you not be satisfied until I admit that I thought of no one but myself when I kidnapped you? That I wanted you so desperately that I was willing to commit any sin, break any law to have you? Is that what you desire to hear?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected confession. She should damn well be surprised. Philippe did not easily admit he might be in the wrong.

“Why?” she at last demanded.

Philippe frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Why me? You could have any woman you desire.”

His lips twisted. God, he had not even thought of another woman since Raine had blazed into his life.

“They are not you.”

“But…”

Philippe pressed a finger to her lips. “I have no explanation, Raine. I only know that it has to be you. Just you.” He lowered his head to press a lingering kiss to her satin mouth. “Now, come inside. Dinner is waiting.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I am not hungry.”

“Neither am I, at least not for food.” His gaze lowered down her tiny body. “But you are the one who is always chiding me to display more concern for my servants. Do you truly wish to hurt Madame LaSalle's delicate sensibilities by refusing the feast she has spent the entire day preparing?”

Her dark eyes flashed. “Your concern seems to conveniently appear when it suits your purpose.”

“It is at least a beginning, is it not?”

She ducked her head to hide her expressive face. “If you say so.”

Philippe swallowed his impatience with an effort. Gripping her chin, he gently forced her countenance upward. “Raine, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she met his searching gaze. “What?”

“Must you battle me every moment of every day?” he demanded. “Can we not for once enjoy a peaceful dinner?”

“Our battles are not always my fault. It is not as if you are a particularly congenial gentleman,” she accused.

“We have already established that I am arrogant and boorish and utterly without redeeming qualities. That does not mean, however, I cannot be a charming dinner companion when I choose,” he said dryly. “I have even been known to dine with kings and queens without being tossed into the nearest dungeon.”

In the shimmering moonlight a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “That is rather difficult to believe.”

Something that was dangerously close to relief rushed through Philippe. It was absurd, but he could not deny he had harbored a fear that he had wounded Raine beyond forgiveness.

Threading her arm through his, Philippe tugged her firmly back toward the cottage.

“Why do you not allow me the opportunity to prove my claim?”

She heaved a small sigh as they stepped through a side door and made their way to the dining room.

“You really are impossible, you know.”

Philippe flashed a devilish smile. “Without a doubt.”

They entered a room that was nearly overwhelmed by an ornate walnut table and matching sideboard. Jean-Pierre's taste in furnishings was nearly as hideous as his taste in art. Hiding his grimace, Philippe forced himself to spare a smile for the hovering housekeeper.

For whatever ridiculous reason Raine found it important that the servants feel as if they were properly appreciated. On this night Philippe was willing to indulge her wishes.

“Ah. Madame LaSalle, it smells delicious,” he murmured. “Roasted lamb?”

A startled blush of pleasure touched the woman's round cheeks. “
Oui,
with my own rosemary sauce.”

“How did you possibly know it was my favorite?”

“Is it?” The woman fussed with her apron, attempting to hide her smile. “Well, I believe that a gentleman should always have a hearty dinner, and there is nothing tastier than lamb on a cold winter night.”

“Yes, indeed.” Philippe ignored Raine's startled glance as he escorted her to the table and seated her. Taking his own seat next to her, he glanced toward the servant. “I think that will be all for now, Madame LaSalle.”

“Yes, of course.” With a hasty curtsy the woman scurried from the room and Philippe smiled smugly as he filled Raine's plate with the various dishes spread across the table. “There, you see? I am not entirely without charm.”

She rolled her eyes. “When it suits your purpose.”

Philippe filled his own plate before pouring them both a glass of the rich burgundy. At least Jean-Pierre could always be depended upon to keep a respectable cellar.

“It has been my experience that most people employ charm when it suits their purpose, which is why I prefer a more direct approach.” He deliberately held her gaze as he took a bite of the lamb. “And why I prefer others who speak their mind.”

“Are you implying that I have no charm?”

Philippe gave a short laugh. “You have charms enough to bring men to their knees, as you well know,
meu amor.
” He studied the pale features that should only belong to an angel. “It is little wonder your father felt compelled to keep you hidden behind the walls of a convent. You would have created chaos in that tiny village.”

Tasting of the delicate soufflé, Raine gave a small shrug. She was remarkably indifferent to her astonishing beauty.

“My father sent me to the convent because it was my mother's dying wish.”

“Did you enjoy your days among the good sisters?”

A small, reminiscent smile curved her lips. “Yes, I did. It could be stifling at times, but I took pleasure in being surrounded by friends.” Her smile widened. “I even enjoyed my studies.”

Philippe watched the play of emotion cross her pale face. There was a softening to her features that revealed her memories were pleasant ones. For once her guard was entirely lowered and Philippe forgot his dinner as he savored the small glimpse into her heart.

“I suppose you tormented your hapless teachers beyond bearing?” he prodded her to continue.

“Not at all. I wanted to learn.” She sipped her burgundy. “Unlike most of my companions I understood that I was being offered a gift rarely given to girls in my position. I never took my education for granted.”

Philippe could easily imagine her as an eager student. She possessed an innate intelligence and natural curiosity. The perfect combination for any scholar.

“So you were wise even at a young age.” He raised his glass in a small toast. “I commend you.”

She shrugged as she nibbled a stuffed mushroom. “I do not know if I was particularly wise, but I did consider the possibility of becoming a teacher.”

Philippe swallowed his instinctive denial. This woman wasted teaching a pack of ungrateful brats? It would have been a sin against nature.

Instead he regarded her with a faint curiosity. His experience had taught him that Miss Raine Wimbourne rarely allowed herself to be distracted when she set upon a goal. If she had truly desired to teach, then it was surprising that she had allowed anything to stand in her path.

“Why did you not?” he demanded.

“I thought—” she paused as if struggling against an unwelcome surge of emotion “—I thought my father would have need of me.”

Philippe frowned at the hint of sadness in her voice.

“Which he obviously did,” he said softly.

The thick sweep of her lashes lowered over her eyes. “Yes, well, not precisely in the manner I had expected. You see, he had become accustomed to living without me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has Mrs. Stone to tend to his home and friends to keep him entertained.” Her lips thinned. “He is not quite certain what to do with me.”

Philippe's fingers tightened on the stem of his glass until the fragile crystal threatened to break. By God, some day he was going to get his hands on Josiah Wimbourne and thrash him within an inch of his life.

His eyes narrowed. “And yet you desire to return to your father.”

“He is the only family that I have.”

“Is family so terribly important?”

Her lashes abruptly lifted to reveal a startled glance. “Of course. Without my father I would be utterly alone in the world.”

Philippe reached out to grasp her slender fingers, holding her gaze. “No, not alone.”

He heard her breath catch before she was tugging her fingers from his grasp and hiding her hands in her lap. Almost as if she feared his touch.

“Perhaps when I return home I shall consider teaching,” she said in a sudden rush. “The local vicar instructs a handful of boys in the area, I could do the same for the young girls. They have as much right as anyone to learn how to read and write.”