Читать книгу A Daring Passion - Rosemary Rogers - Страница 12

CHAPTER FIVE

ONCE ALONE IN THE BARREN room, Raine wrapped her arms about her trembling body and sternly dismissed the memory of Philippe’s kisses.

Why waste her time dwelling on her giddy reaction to his touch? The man was clearly an expert in seduction. He had only to be near for her heart to beat quicker and her skin to tingle with awareness. It was a dark longing that she feared would plague her until she was far away from the hateful man.

She would do better to concentrate on finding some means of escape.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for her to realize that it was a futile exercise.

The door was thick and impossible to budge no matter how she pushed, and the one window was far too narrow for even her slender form. Even worse, the rooms were bare except for a decrepit cradle and small bed.

She had nothing that could possibly be used as a weapon for when her captor returned.

“Welcome to London, Raine Wimbourne,” she muttered wryly.

When she had dreamed of this moment, her fantasies had certainly not included being dressed in her father’s cast-off clothing and being held prisoner in a musty attic.

Oh, no. She had imagined herself dressed in the finest of silks as she attended the elegant Season. There would be nights at the theater, opulent balls and exclusive soirees. She would acquire a large collection of friends who would invite her to picnics and luncheons where they could giggle and gossip over tea.

And, of course, there would be gentlemen. Handsome young blades that would be bewitched and bedazzled by her charm. Their dark hair would shimmer in the candlelight and their green eyes would heat with a barely restrained desire and…

Her delightful daydream was abruptly shattered as she realized the face that had risen to her mind.

Damn the irritating man, he haunted her even when he was not in the room.

As if to add to her torment, there was a sudden scrape in the hall and then the door was thrust open to reveal the man who had become her personal nemesis.

She stepped instinctively backward as his large form seemed to consume the room as it had consumed the carriage. He had shed his greatcoat to reveal a tailored charcoal-gray jacket and black breeches that molded to his muscular body with an indecent perfection.

Raine’s heart fluttered and she desperately turned her attention to the heavy tray he balanced in his hands and the thick blanket he had tossed over his arm.

A delicious aroma swirled through the air, making Raine’s stomach rumble in response, and she narrowed her eyes. She was wise enough to be wary of Greeks bearing gifts.

Especially Greeks who looked like gods.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said as he brushed past her and placed the tray on the floor before spreading the blanket on the bed and sitting on the edge. “I had to make do with what I could pilfer from the kitchen, but there is some smoked ham and cheese, as well as freshly baked bread.”

Raine stiffened as she realized that he intended to stay. “You expect us to share dinner?” she demanded.

“Why not?”

Her chin tilted. “In case you have forgotten, I am your prisoner, not your guest.”

“I have forgotten nothing.” His gaze flicked over her tense form. “But at the moment I am tired and hungry and I have no intention of attacking you. Not unless you ask nicely.”

“Must you say such offensive things to me?”

“I do not suppose I must, but it is so terribly enjoyable.” His lips abruptly twisted and he lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as if he truly was weary. “Come, Raine, sit down and eat before you swoon.”

It was the realization that he was right that led her cautiously to the bed. She had eaten nothing since early that morning, and she would be a fool to allow herself to be weakened by hunger. The Lord knew that she needed every scrap of strength she could muster.

With grudging reluctance she perched on the edge of the mattress and watched as Philippe filled a plate with the bounty. For the first time Raine noticed the faint dark whiskers that were beginning to shadow his jaw and the hint of bruising beneath his glorious eyes.

Strangely the signs of fatigue did nothing to mar his astonishing beauty. Indeed, they helped to soften the austere perfection, making him appear far more approachable.

A dangerous illusion, she sternly warned herself. This man was a lethal predator that would go to any lengths to achieve his goals.

Taking the plate he offered, Raine began consuming the delicious food. It was only when she had nearly cleared her plate that she sensed Philippe’s gaze trained on her.

She lifted her head to discover him gazing at her with an odd smile.

“What?” she demanded defensively.

He reached to take her plate and set it along with his own on the tray.

“I was admiring your appetite. I detest those women who are forever pecking at their food, as if a gentleman would be offended that she might actually eat.” The quality of his smile altered, becoming warmer and infinitely more dangerous. “It is enticing to see a woman who enjoys her food.”

“Which I suppose means that I am no lady?” she said sharply.

His green eyes watched her with an unnerving intensity. As if he was seeing far more than her defensive frown. As if he was looking straight into her vulnerable heart.

“I meant my words as a compliment. Are you always so prickly?” he murmured.

His voice was low and intimate, sliding down her spine like warm honey. She shivered in response, desperately attempting to ignore the sheer intimacy of the dark room.

“Only when I am being held hostage.”

He leaned close enough that his warm breath brushed her cheek. “Would you prefer that I haul you to Newgate?”

“You know I would not.”

“Good.” He traced a light path from her temple to the edge of her mouth. “Such beauty would not last long among the savages.”

She pulled back, her eyes flashing. To be honest, she was beginning to suspect that he had never had any intention of turning her over to the authorities.

“That does not mean I want to remain here with you.”

His smile widened. “You have run out of options, menina pequena.”

“Why?” With an abrupt motion she was on her feet, her arms wrapped about her waist. “Why can you not simply allow me to leave?”

“And where would you go? Do you truly believe you could wander the dark streets of London alone and not be molested or perhaps even killed?” He gave a shake of his head. “You truly are an innocent.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He merely laughed at her brave words, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. “If that were true you would not be in my clutches.”

“You really are detestable.”

“Me?” Something that might have been annoyance flashed through his eyes. “I was not the one to send you out alone in the dark. Or to encourage you to risk that lovely neck by playing such a dangerous charade. If you are determined to blame someone, it should be your father.”

“Do not speak of my father. He is a far greater man than you could ever hope to be.”

His eyes narrowed. “I, at least, know how to take care of my family.”

For some reason his words caught her off guard. “You have a family?”

His annoyance melted as he regarded her with a hint of mockery. “Of course I do. Did you think I just appeared beneath a rock?”

“I assumed you were kicked out of hell.”

There was a pause as he walked toward the fireplace and leaned against the mantel. His tall, lean frame appeared casually at ease, but Raine sensed an underlying tension that hummed about him.

“I have a father and a brother.”

Raine found herself curious in spite of herself. This man was like none other that she had ever encountered. At times he was as cold and distant as the stars. And then she would catch a glimpse of the man beneath his hard exterior. A man she suspected could be warm and gentle.

“Are they anything like you?”

“Not in the least.” A smile touched his lips, but there was an edge of bitterness in his voice. “You would no doubt love them. Everyone else certainly does.”

“You sound envious.”

“Do I?” He shrugged. “Perhaps I do envy their ability to fritter away their lives without a thought to the consequences of their irresponsible habits. They are charming and witty and utterly committed to their own pleasures at the expense of everyone, including myself.”

She studied the austere lines of his countenance. He did not need to tell her that he accepted responsibility for his feckless family. His every feature was etched with the commanding authority that had no doubt been thrust on him at far too early an age.

Raine battled against the grudging respect that flared through her heart. She was a woman who admired loyalty above all things. Especially loyalty to one’s family.

“And what are you committed to?” she demanded.

His gaze dropped to study the toe of his boot. As if he was debating precisely how much to share with her. At last his eyes lifted and Raine caught her breath at the fierce glitter in the emerald depths.

“At the moment I am committed to rescuing my brother from yet another tragedy.”

“He is in London?”

“Actually he is a resident of Newgate.”

Raine did not bother to hide her shock. “Newgate prison? You must be jesting.”

“I wish that I were.” A muscle twitched at the base of his jaw. “As irritating as I might occasionally find Jean-Pierre, he does not deserve this particular punishment.”

“What did he do?”

“He is accused of treason.”

Treason? She unconsciously stepped closer, her eyes wide with disbelief. “And you treat me as a criminal? I have done nothing more than take a handful of coins and jewels.”

His lips thinned, the green eyes so cold and hard that they sent a chill over her skin. “For once he is innocent of any crime. He is being used to punish my family by an old and nearly forgotten enemy. An enemy who realized that my brother was the most vulnerable and easily captured in his trap.”

It all sounded wildly improbable. A wealthy young gentleman of a good family accused of treason. A nefarious enemy from the past appearing and then mysteriously disappearing. Really, it sounded like something that Shakespeare might have invented.

But she couldn’t imagine that Philippe would make up such a tale. Not when it would involve his family in a scandal. His pride was nearly as inflated as his conceit.

“So you are here to rescue him?”

“If you are asking if I intend to charge the prison and set him free, then no. I am here to find some means to prove his innocence.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “No doubt a trifling matter for a man in your position. You can afford to convince any number of judges of your brother’s innocence.”

“Perhaps for any other crime, but not treason.” With a sudden movement he pushed away from the mantel and paced across the cramped room. “The king has always possessed a terror that he might be betrayed, and he cannot allow anyone to be seen as being forgiven for such a crime. It might give others the notion that he approves of sedition. If I do not find the means of clearing Jean-Pierre he will be sacrificed as an example to all.”

Raine bit her lip. Her heart was far too tender not to be touched by the idea of any young man being held in prison and confronting the thought of his own death.

He must be so terrified, so sick at heart, as he was forced to wait for his brother to find some means to free him.

Still, she was not about to forget that this gentleman holding her captive did not possess her own compassion.

“So you are anxious to keep your brother from the hangman?” she said.

He turned to face her. “Of course.”

“Just as I was anxious to keep my father from the hangman.”

He studied her for a long moment before the hard features slowly softened and that wicked smile began to play at his mouth. With a deliberate motion he moved to stand directly before her.

“Ah, but I have yet to break the law to do so,” he murmured. “And more important, I have yet to be foolish enough to allow myself to be captured.”

Instinct told her to back away. Even innocent young women understood that it was important to keep a distance between themselves and hardened rakes. Especially when they were already far too attracted to that rake.

Philippe, however, was not alone in possessing his fair share of pride, and the thought of cowering away was enough to make her spine stiffen.

“And what have you done to rescue your brother?” she scoffed. “Kidnapped a harmless woman as you travel to your fancy town house?”

“I have managed to use some of my influence to have Jean-Pierre placed in a private cell and hired a dozen solicitors to keep the trial postponed.” His fingers reached to trace down the curve of her neck. Tiny sparks of heat followed the trail of his knowing fingers, sending a rash of alarm through Raine. “And you were kidnapped because I hoped you would have information of my enemy traveling the roads.”

She swallowed heavily. “That is not why you kept me.”

“No.” His eyes lost their icy glitter, warming and darkening to the deepest jade. “That is not why I kept you.”

Raine felt as if a spell was being woven around her. And perhaps it was. Why else would the air suddenly feel so thick that it was difficult to breathe? Why else would her wits be so clouded she could barely think? And why else would her body begin to ache in a manner that was indecent?

“Philippe?”

His gaze skimmed over her upturned face, lingering on the uncertain line of her mouth.

“That skin. I have never seen anything like it. So pure and soft.”

She unwittingly licked her dry lips, not realizing her mistake until a flare of raw desire rippled over his face.

“We…we were discussing your brother and how you intend to prove his innocence.”

Slowly, relentlessly he moved forward, forcing her to back away until at last she found herself flat against the wall. Her breath 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 warm weight of his body as he covered her.

His mouth touched her parted lips as he settled between her thighs, and her arms instinctively lifted to wrap around his neck. She felt the brush of his enlarged shaft against her thigh before it was at her entrance.

She had the briefest moment to consider just what he intended to do before he was pressing into her dampness with a relentless thrust.

Lost in the pleasure, Raine was unprepared for the sharp sting that stabbed through her body, and digging her nails into his back, she gave a muffled gasp.

Philippe stiffened, his head jerking back to regard her with a stunned expression.

“Meu Deus. Why did you not tell me?”

“Would it have stopped you?”

A mixture of emotions flickered over his face, all too swiftly for Raine to decipher. Then, with a low hiss, he was slowly pulling himself out of her.

Raine breathed out in relief, only to stiffen in surprise when his head dipped and he began scattering kisses along her throat, over her breast and down her stomach.

Her pain was forgotten as his lips expertly coaxed her passion back to life.

“Oh,” she breathed as his tongue dipped into her belly button and then traced ever lower. “Dear heavens…”

“Heaven has nothing to do with this, meu amor,” he muttered as he deliberately scraped her sensitive skin with the rough whiskers on his chin. “But I have no strength to deny the devil’s temptation. Not on this night.”

She had no notion what he meant, but before she could demand he explain, Philippe dipped his head lower and she gave a small scream as she felt his tongue stroke the very heart of her.

Her hands clasped his hair as he licked and teased with a ruthless intent. A part of her was shocked by such intimacy. Good Lord, she did not know this was even a part of making love. Certainly she had never heard it spoken of, even in whispers. It seemed…decadent. But, oh, so wonderful.

A moan escaped her lips as she arched off the bed. That sweet tension was once again clenching her muscles and tugging her toward a pinnacle that she half feared to reach.

“Do not fight it, Raine,” he whispered, as if able to read her mind with the ease of a master. “Just relax.”

Relax? He had to be out of his wits. Her entire body felt as if it had been wound so tight she would explode.

He shifted, his hands holding tight to her hips as he continued his delicious assault. Raine whimpered as the tension reached a breathless point, and then shattered into a million sparks of pleasure.

“Philippe.” She sighed as she floated slowly through the velvet darkness. “That was…that was amazing….”

“That, sweet Raine, was only the beginning.”

His body slid upward and once again he was between her legs. She felt the tip of him enter her and the odd lethargy was banished.

Sensing her sudden tension, he lightly kissed her lips before pulling back to regard her with a somber expression.

“Do not fear, I will not hurt you. We will take this as slowly as you need.”

Suiting his action to his words, Philippe kept his gaze locked on hers as he gently pushed into her. Raine felt stretched and uncomfortably full, but as he promised there was no pain.

There was a final thrust and he was completely inside her. He paused, as if waiting for her to adjust to the invasion before he slowly began to move.

At first Raine simply tried to accustom herself to the strange sensations, but as his head lowered and he nuzzled at her breasts she realized that her hips were beginning to lift of their own accord.

He groaned in approval, his steady pace beginning to quicken as that wondrous pleasure spiraled through her.

“Yes, meu amor,” he breathed, his hands moving to cup her hips and angle her so he could deepen his penetration.

Raine dug her nails into his shoulders as her breath came in short gasps, the pleasure coalescing into a burst of shocking waves.

Above her, Philippe’s features sharpened as he gave one last forceful thrust, and then with a wrenching groan he collapsed on top of her.

In a rather dazed wonderment Raine held on to him with weak arms.

He was inside her. A part of her. As if they were one.

And it was the most astonishing experience of her life.