A Daring Passion (16 page)

On the other hand, she could not deny a ridiculous sense of pleasure that he had even considered the fact she would require clothing. In her limited experience men rarely paid heed to a woman's comfort. Even her own father had to be reminded that she occasionally had needs beyond food and a roof over her head.

Of course, he could hardly haul her around Paris in her shift, she reminded herself sternly.

“I cannot wait for them to arrive,” she muttered.

“Such a thoughtful and generous husband.” Mattie sighed.

“He does seem to think of everything.”

“And so handsome.”

Indecently, wickedly handsome, Raine silently agreed.

And so very, very dangerous.

R
AINE TOOK FULL ADVANTAGE
of the vast breakfast and even lingered in the hot bath far longer than was her habit. Why not? She was not the sort of woman to curl up in a corner and weep at her iniquitous fate. Or to create an unpleasant scene that would only embarrass her.

She would eventually find some means to force Philippe to set her free. Until then she might as well enjoy the few luxuries that came her way.

What other rational choice was there?

Once the tray and bath had been cleared away, however, Raine found herself pacing the room with a growing sense of restlessness.

During her years at the convent she had rarely had a free moment. There were always classes and duties and chores that had to be completed. And since returning home she at least had the beauty of the woods and meadows to roam through when her boredom threatened to overcome her.

With a sudden motion she reached for the heavy cloak and wrapped it snugly around her. When they had first arrived at the inn she had noted a small kitchen garden at one side of the building. There would be no room for a proper stroll, but at least she could get some fresh air.

Her decision made, she moved to the door and pulled it open. She never made it over the threshold, however, before the tall, dark form of Carlos was blocking her path.

Stiffening in surprise, she regarded the unwelcome man with a lift of her brows.

“Please move aside,” she declared in a tone that demanded obedience.

The gentleman merely smiled as he leaned one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. “You must remain in your rooms. It is not safe to be out.”

Raine narrowed her gaze. The man was indecently handsome, of course. His dark Latin looks were combined with a sultry passion that seemed to smolder in the air around him. Precisely the sort of gentleman that made a woman think of warm, exotic gardens and illicit love affairs.

But what Raine was thinking at the moment was that she wanted to blacken his eye.

“I am only going to the small garden.”

He slowly smiled, his large bulk as efficient as a brick wall in keeping her from freedom.

“You will go nowhere until Philippe can accompany you,” he said, his accent only faintly noticeable. Philippe was not the only one who spent time in England, she thought inanely.

Anger flared through her as she glared into his dark eyes. “Philippe may be capable of blackmailing me into remaining with him, but even he cannot halt me from taking a simple stroll. Move out of my way.”

The brilliant white smile merely widened as Carlos grasped her shoulders and firmly moved her backward. Then, before she could recover herself, he was closing the door in her face.

“I am sorry,
anjo,
” he called through the heavy wood even as she heard him turn a key in the lock.

Sorry?

Oh, he would be sorry.

Him and his overbearing, infuriating master.

She turned and marched toward the connecting door and entered the second chamber like a gathering storm cloud.

Her only thought was confronting Philippe and demanding to know why he insisted on keeping her locked in her rooms as if she were some wild animal.

It seemed worthy goal, until she reached the middle of the room and realized that Philippe was just stepping from the bath that had been situated by the fireplace.

“Oh,” she gasped, abruptly turning her back on his nude body. “Good Lord.”

His soft laugh feathered over her skin. “There is no need for such shock,
meu amor.
You are welcome to enter my chambers at any time you please. Especially if I happen to be without my clothes.”

Heat burned her cheeks. Which was rather ridiculous. God knew that she had spent an inordinate amount of time fantasizing about the feel of that hard body pressed against her own.

“Please cover yourself,” she said.

“So shy,” he teased. There was a rustle of movement and then Philippe moved behind her to lightly touch her shoulder. “You may turn around now.”

“You are decent?”

His hand boldly stroked up the curve of her neck. “I am rarely decent, but my body parts are adequately covered, which I presume is what you mean?”

She hastily stepped from the temptation of his touch and turned to confront him. Her heart gave a sharp jolt as she took in the sight of the thick brocade robe that covered his still-damp skin and the tousled wetness of his raven curls.

As promised, he was covered, but there was nothing decent about him.

He looked like a Byzantine god that had stepped from the past.

A wickedly seductive Byzantine god.

No, Raine, stop this nonsense.
She had come here to make it clear she would not be treated like a prisoner. Not to flutter and swoon as if she hadn't the least measure of sense.

Ignoring the rapid beat of her heart and the strange flush that heated her skin, she tilted her chin to a determined angle.

“I wished a breath of fresh air but your…guard dog refused to allow me to leave my rooms. I presume that you were the one to give the command that I was to be a prisoner?”

He prowled forward until he was once again standing far too close. “I am not certain that Carlos would appreciate the comparison to a mere dog. I believe he considers himself a far more dangerous predator.”

She took two steps back. “Did you or did you not tell Carlos that I was to remain in my rooms?”

He took three steps forward. “Yes.”

Raine sucked in a sharp breath as his tantalizing heat and scent wrapped around her.

“Do you truly believe that after having gone through the effort of playing the role of the Knave of Knightsbridge to deceive the magistrate that I would now risk sending my father to the gallows to escape you?” she demanded.

“I am annoyingly aware of your loyalty to your father,” he said, a strange edge in his voice. “I requested that Carlos prevent you from leaving your rooms because I have no wish for you to be seen by someone who might recognize you.”

She frowned. “My circle of acquaintances does not extend beyond Knightsbridge. There is no one in Dover who could possibly recognize me.”

“Perhaps not, but there is also the matter of your safety.” His hand lifted to gently stroke a golden curl that lay against her throat. “Although Dover is not a particularly large hamlet, it is a port city and therefore has more than its usual share of pirates, profiteers and cutthroats. Not to mention the usual assortment of rakes and rogues.”

“Which you, of course, would know all about,” she muttered.

Something that might have been surprise rippled over his chiseled features. As if he was not accustomed to being labeled as a rake. Which seemed quite absurd. He was obviously a most accomplished seducer.

“I do, at least, understand men and how they react to a woman as beautiful as you.” His hand shifted to cup her cheek. “You would create a near riot if you walked about the inn without a proper escort.”

Raine's knees went weak at his gentle touch. “I…I suppose you think to distract me with such stupid flattery?”

His eyes darkened, and without warning Raine discovered herself against the wall with his body pressed hard to hers.

“It is not flattery,
meu amor.
” He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his hot breath sending a shock of need racing through her blood. “And if I desired to distract you I could find a far more pleasurable means of doing so.”

She lifted her hands to his chest. She had intended to push him away, but his robe had managed to loosen, and when she felt the satin heat of his skin she forgot all the numerous reasons this was such a ghastly notion.

“Philippe…”

His tongue stroked over the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, sending a violent shudder through her.

“Did you miss me last night?” he demanded.

“Miss you?”

He nuzzled his way up to her ear. “You have no notion just how great an effort it took to leave you all alone in that soft bed,” he muttered.

“Why did you?”

“You were exhausted. And if I recall your mood was rather foul.”

Her head tilted back as his lips traced the line of her jaw. Oh, Lord…this was dangerous. So terribly dangerous. How could she recall that she was furious with him when her body was melting with pleasure?

“Well, you might as well become accustomed to my foul mood,” she forced herself to mutter. “Being kidnapped and blackmailed tends to sour a woman's disposition.”

His hands skimmed down her sides, moving to jerk open the cloak. “Perhaps I can improve it.”

“Not bloody likely,” she breathed, but she made no effort to halt him as his lips moved to capture hers in a kiss that made her head spin.

Over the past few days she had managed to convince herself that she had merely imagined the power of his touch. Her night with him, after all, had been her first real taste of passion. What woman would not remember it as being far more spectacular than it truly was?

But now she was forced to admit that she had imagined nothing. His lips were just as warm, just as deliciously experienced as she recalled. And the dark wave of longing just as irresistible.

His fingers had found the ribbons of her shift when there was a sudden pounding on the door. They both froze, Philippe muttering a string of Portuguese curses.

“Go away,” he at last called.

“The clothes have arrived, sir,” came the muffled reply. “You said as how you wanted them brought up straight away.”

For a moment the leanly beautiful face tightened, and Raine was certain he would send away the intruder. Then, with a sigh he pulled back and tucked the cloak around her with a wry smile.

“So I did. I must have been out of my wits,” he said.

Brushing his lips over her forehead, Philippe turned and moved to pull open the door. He had barely managed to step aside when the innkeeper, along with two burly grooms, entered, all three of the men burdened with a vast number of boxes.

“You may place them on the bed,” Philippe commanded.

“Aye, sir.”

With a minimum of fuss the various packages were spread over the bed and Philippe was handing each man a coin as they offered a bow and left the room.

Raine barely noticed their departure as she absently crossed toward the bed and reached out to touch a silver ribbon tied around one of the elegant boxes.

“These…” Her throat seemed to close and she was forced to clear her throat.

Philippe moved to stand beside her. “What is it, Raine?”

“These are all for me?”

He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Why do you not open them and discover for yourself?”

She hesitated a long moment as she studied the vast pile of packages. They were beautiful with their bows and ribbons. A shimmering enticement for a maiden who hadn't received a gift since she was six years old.

Oh, her father would occasionally offer her a handful of coins to spend as she wished. And Mrs. Stone always knitted her mittens for Christmas. But this…

It was a temptation she simply could not resist.

Ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispered the road to ruination was no doubt littered with such lovely temptations, Raine reached for the closest box and tugged aside the silver bow to pluck off the lid.

Her breath caught as she pulled out the velvet evening gown that was a beautiful shade of bronze with embroidered lace around the scooped neckline and the full hem. Included in the box was a pair of matching bronze gloves, a pair of delicate slippers and an ivory shawl with gold thread.

It was a stunningly beautiful gown. The sort of gown that she could never have dreamed of possessing.

With an odd sense of unreality, she began to open the remaining boxes. There were more evening gowns in silk and Turkish satin, as well as morning gowns, carriage gowns, a lovely velvet cape lined with fur, several bonnets, gloves and pretty kidskin boots. He had even thought to provide several shifts, corsets and stockings.

A gentleman who clearly was accustomed to procuring garments for women, she wryly thought.

Still, whatever his nefarious past, she had to admit that he had exquisite taste. The clothes were magnificent and thankfully not at all what she had been expecting.

These were gowns that belonged to a lady, not a common tart.

Unwittingly, she reached out to stroke her hand over a delectable satin gown in a pale shade of lavender.

Perhaps sensing her confusion, Philippe reached out to grasp her chin and forced her to meet his searching gaze.

“You do not like them?”

“They are beautiful, as you well know, but not precisely what one would expect for a mistress.”