A Midnight Dance (14 page)

“Perhaps . . .” Jules glanced at Elise once more as he mulled over Raymond’s words. They didn’t sit right with him. “She certainly looks like a peasant in those clothes, but . . . she doesn’t speak like one.”

“Didn’t you say her cousin was a schoolmaster? Obviously, she comes from a family with some education. She may even know how to read and write a little. It would certainly explain her finer speech.”

“It would,” Jules conceded.

“If I may offer an observation, my lord?”

“Of course.”

“Since the lady’s arrival, I’ve seen you behave more like—well, the way you used to be before . . . everything happened. The woman is beautiful. You find her company pleasing. Allow yourself to simply enjoy her. Experienced or not, the lady has no objections to you doing so.”

Raymond was right. He was letting his general distrust play with his imagination, and he wasn’t going to allow his time with Elise to be marred by his ever-suspicious mind.
Dieu
, what possible concern could he have? That she’d steal his silver? The notion was laughable. Even if she knew the contents of the chests—which was impossible—she wasn’t much of a thief. Last night proved that.

She met his gaze and offered him a small smile. Hair so pale, a face so fine, and a womanly form made for a man’s pleasure, that inspired an assortment of sexual fantasies. Ones he intended to fulfill. A sweet temptress who was drawn to him, drawn to sex. And all his for the next three days.

He shoved aside his niggling doubts.

There was no time like the present to stoke the delectable fire between them.

Sabine was so tense, she was ready to scream. Normally she wasn’t prone to female hysterics, but Jules de Moutier was unsettling her on so many disquieting levels.

She wanted to cover her face with her hands and groan her frustration, but he was watching her from across the camp and his men were nearby. It took all the acting skill she possessed just to maintain any level of composure.

Bad enough he rattled her confidence every time he neared, but having him bathe close by—in all his naked glory—had been devastating to her inner peace. The devil that he was, he’d caught her every time she’d stolen a glance. And smiled.

Once he even winked at her.

The river and all the surrounding land had once belonged to Jules’s family. Rivers and forests were for the exclusive use of the lord of the land—though the lower class did their share of poaching and trespassing. It was one of the many laws imposed by the upper class. Including the Moutiers.

Yet despite the land being confiscated by the Crown, Jules had waded into the river as if it still belonged to him. He may have lost his social standing at court because of the
Fronde
, but clearly not his aristocratic sense of entitlement.

His bathing in the river was proof of that.

Despite having been practically born with a quill in hand, she doubted she could adequately describe just how incredible he’d looked, his muscled body wet, water droplets running down his skin.

Deep in conversation with Raymond, Jules ran a hand through his wet hair. There he was in all his male beauty. Sure to provoke sinful thoughts in the most pious nun.

Couldn’t he have a hump?

She forced her gaze away, reminding herself that he wasn’t the perfect prince she’d once believed him to be. He was a
Frondeur
. A traitor.

And he and his kind had cost her her world.

He’s also been surprisingly kind, shown unexpected concern, and offered his protection until Maillard
, a voice whispered though her. Fiercely, she quashed it. Stealing the silver was paramount. Necessary. Just.

The bit of consideration he showed didn’t come close to repaying what he’d cost her.

Jules was approaching now, a smile upon his lips. By tomorrow, he’d no longer be smiling. Not after she’d taken every last piece of his silver and was nowhere to be found.

She stood up and returned his smile.

“It is time to go,” he said.

“Of course. I’m ready.”

The sun wouldn’t set before she had his treasure.

She and her family were going to be wealthy. Rich beyond their wildest dreams.

Oh, this was going to be so very good
.

She walked with him to the men on horseback and moved directly to the cart, noting there was a spot beside the driver for her.

“I’m afraid not,” he said.

She turned and gave him a questioning look.

Jules patted his horse. “You’ll ride with me.”

His hand was near her breast. Just below it actually, but it may as well have been caressing it for all the torment his hot motionless hand was creating.

Sabine tried to focus on the passing trees, the birds overhead, the sounds of the snapping twigs beneath the horses’ hooves, anything but the arousal simmering inside her, her sex moistening by the moment.

The cart carrying her future on it was just ahead. So was the small group of Jules’s men on horseback. Having lost all track of time, she was unsure how many hours they’d been traveling.

It felt like days.

Jules’s hand moved across her ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast. Her nipples tightened against her chemise. She closed her eyes, trying to steel herself against the seductive sensation. Trying not to think about the sublime torment he’d put her nipples through last night. She had to reach Delatour without giving in to this. Another sexual encounter with this potent man and she might lose her mind.

She wanted to shift her body but didn’t dare. The bulge in his breeches was pressed against her bottom. Any movement would rub him intimately. Knowing he wanted her was wreaking havoc inside her. From the moment she’d first laid eyes on him years ago, he’d always had a stirring effect on her, but on meeting him again, now as grown woman, her reactions to him were far more carnal.

“Your heart is racing,” he said near her ear.

“Is it?”

“Just relax. I won’t bite . . .
yet
.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. Smiling, his eyes shone with wicked promise and a look that told her he knew she was coming undone.

Knocking him from the horse would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

Opting instead for a more appropriate response, given that she did, after all, ask him to be her lover, she forced herself to relax against him and said, “I’m afraid I’m not used to this.”
What an understatement
.

“You’re not used to what,
chère
? Being aroused?”

Her face grew warm.

Softly, he said, “Tell me what the desire is doing to you.” The darkly seductive quality of his voice only inflamed her further.

“You—You want me to . . . describe it?” Did he actually expect her to voice the reactions he was eliciting from her body? “I’m not certain I can do that.”

“Try.”

She gazed back at him speechless.

“Shall I go first?” he asked. “Shall I tell you how you make me feel?”

Good Lord, no.
“I . . . well . . . I suppose . . .”

“I feel,” he murmured low, “like stopping this horse . . .” He halted the horse.

She looked around and noticed the men beginning to dismount. The only man to glance their way was Raymond. He gave Jules a nod in response to some silent command and turned away.

Before she could comment, Jules brought his mouth close to her ear once more. “I feel like taking you into the forest, stripping off your clothes, and fucking you . . . for hours.” Her heart missed a beat. “You want to come, don’t you, Elise? You’re going to take my cock in . . . slowly . . . nice and deep.”

Hot excitement roared through her. Think about the Greek alphabet. Anything! But not what he just said.

“But before that, I’m going to taste you, most especially that very sensitive pretty little clit of yours.”

Alpha . . . Beta . . . What was the next one?
She couldn’t think or catch her breath. That very part of her anatomy he referred to was pulsing as wildly as her heart.

“Are you imagining it, Elise? Can you imagine what it will feel like when I taste you there? When I draw your clit into my mouth, and suck, and lick . . .” She squeezed her knees together to combat the throbbing between her legs. “I’ll build the pleasure until it’s so keen, until you can’t take it any longer, until a strong climax shudders through your body and you come against my mouth. Can you imagine it, Elise?”

No, don’t imagine it!
He couldn’t be serious. No one would do something so . . . shocking, surely.

“Answer me,” he said softly.

“Men don’t do that. I think you’re jesting.”

He pulled back. A purely male grin formed on his handsome face. “I promise, you’ll enjoy it, as much as you enjoy having your breasts kissed and fondled.”

Her nipples were so hard. The yearning to have his mouth on them, his hands on her body, was beyond fierce.

He nuzzled her neck. “You’re blushing, Elise.” His warm breath tickled her skin, sending tiny tingles down her spine. “Once you’re grown accustomed to receiving pleasure, inhibitions fall away. When that happens, you’ll be hungry for my cock in your mouth and eager to return the pleasure.”

Another wave of arousal slammed into her. She fisted her skirts. This she’d seen before; whores in the alleyway outside the theater performed this service on their customers. She’d always thought it was a distasteful act. Until now. Instead of being appalled by his words, they heightened her hunger for him.

“I think we should dismount,” she suggested. Anything to put some space between them and give her a chance to sober up from his seduction.

He met her gaze. “I agree.”

Dismounting, he reached up and helped her down. Her legs felt shaky. Grasping her hand, he immediately strode toward the trees.

Oh, God.
They were heading into the forest. What had she done?

He pulled her along past his men, who were busy pulling items from the cart.

“Raymond!” Jules barked without breaking his stride. “Where?”

“Straight ahead, Commander.”

She was all but running to keep up with him as he walked briskly through the trees until they came upon a clearing. A picnic had been set up, no doubt by Raymond. A blanket and basket were set out.

They were secluded in the woods, with a giant rock nearby that rose almost to Jules’s height. He pressed her back against it.

Bracing his palms against the large stone on either side of her head, he hemmed her in. He had the most decadent look in his dark eyes. “You asked me to be your lover. To experience sexual pleasures. Tell me you want me to claim your pretty cunt any way I want.” He was so sinfully delicious. It was astounding just how appealing she found his wicked words. She swallowed.

Focus on the plan
. His interest was crucial for its success. She was going to put on yet another performance. The most important ever.

Sabine relaxed her shoulders. “Yes . . . I want that.”

He leaned in. His mouth was oh so close to her own. “What do you want? Let me hear you say it,” he prompted and lowered his head. His mouth was on that sensitive spot below her ear, slowly moving down her neck.

A moan escaped from her throat, her breaths already short and shallow. She was so hungry for a taste of his mouth. “I . . . want you to . . .” He nipped at her earlobe. Her words died on a gasp. Her arms at her sides, she realized she was digging her fingers into the stone. It took everything she had not to throw her arms around his neck and beg him to take her then and there.
You are jeopardizing the plot
.
Concentrate!

But then he cupped her breast, and over the fabric of her chemise, stroked his thumb over her distended nipple. Her knees almost buckled. “Jules, I want you to . . . do all the things you described. But what I want more than anything is to—” She could barely speak while he teased her nipple and kissed her neck, the most luscious sensations swamping her.