Read A Daring Passion Online

Authors: Rosemary Rogers

A Daring Passion (10 page)

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

And it was the most astonishing experience of her life.

CHAPTER SIX

P
HILIPPE STRUGGLED TO
recall how to breathe as he rolled to the side and held Raine in his arms. He was exhausted, his body still shuddering from the intensity of his climax.

Meu Deus,
he was one and thirty and fully experienced in the most exotic forms of seduction. But nothing had prepared him for the stunning pleasure, the searing heat and wild abandon that could be found in the awkward caresses of an untried angel.

A distant part of his mind was whispering that he had just taken this woman's innocence. That he debauched and despoiled a virgin. A sin that had had yet to be laid at his doorstep.

That part of his mind, however, was lost beneath the tide of sated bliss that flooded through him.

At last managing to recapture his breath, he gazed down at Raine's flushed countenance as his fingers absently stroked through the halo of gleaming amber curls. The sweet scent of her skin filled his senses and he was quite certain that he would never again smell lilacs without thinking of this precise moment.

“Are you well?” he queried.

A blush of color flowed beneath her skin before she buried her face into his shoulder. “Yes, yes, of course I am.”

“Raine.” He caught her chin in his fingers and turned her face upward. “Raine, look at me.”

There was a pause before the thick fringe of lashes at last lifted to reveal her eyes.

“What?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No…” She bit off her instinctive denial as his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps a bit.”

Philippe felt an uncharacteristic twinge of remorse as he brushed his lips over her forehead. “I am sorry for that. If I had known the truth of your innocence, I would have taken greater care. There was no need for any pain.”

A tiny shiver raced through her body. “If I had been thinking clearly enough to tell you that I was a virgin then I would not have…We would not…”

“If you think that I intend to apologize for what just happened then you are wide of the mark,
querida.
I do not even care to know the reason you chose to give your innocence to me.” He tightened his arms, savoring the feel of her soft body pressed against him. “For this one night I intend to enjoy what is offered without counting the cost.”

His honesty seemed to disarm her as a portion of her blush eased and she gave a lift of her brows.

“Do you usually count the cost?”

“Always.”

“Why?”

His lips twisted. It was a question he never allowed himself to ask. Not since he had been fifteen and taken control of his father's crumbling estate. Louis Gautier might be considered by all to be a most charming and gracious gentleman, but he had never possessed the least interest in his land or those servants and tenants who depended upon him. He found digging about in obscure places far more fascinating.

And of course, Jean-Pierre could never be bothered with something so trivial as rotating fields, productive wine vineyards or the cost of transporting goods.

“Because, my sweet Raine, I have a family and enormous staff who depend upon me to do so.” His fingers traced an aimless pattern on her lower back. “I may not be attempting to save the world by robbing unsuspecting travelers, but I do have my responsibilities.”

Her lips tightened at his deliberate jab, but she was not distracted. “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.

 

P
HILIPPE 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 sternly dampening the emotion. She was like an untamed filly that would only respond to a firm, steady hand.

His hand.

He allowed his gaze to sweep over her sleep-flushed features, his fingers running over her bare skin with a blatant brand of possession.

“You were not so reluctant last eve to put yourself in my care. In fact, you did so on several occasions with quite delicious results.”

A delightful blush stained her cheeks. “Must you be so crude?”

“There is nothing crude in speaking of your passionate nature,
menina pequena.
You are a woman who needs the attentions of a man. A man who will not allow you to run roughshod over him.” He smiled into her dark eyes. “A man that can surround you in the luxury your beauty deserves.”

“A man like you, I suppose?” she said tartly.

He chuckled softly. “For now.”

“You know nothing of me or my needs.”

“On the contrary, I know you intimately. And I intend to know you more intimately still.” He allowed himself one last lingering kiss before pulling the blanket off his naked body and tucking it firmly around Raine. “But alas not now. I must be on my way.”

She huddled beneath the blanket, her eyes flashing fire. “I will never be your mistress.”

He rolled off the bed and smiled mockingly down at her. “My dear Miss Wimbourne, you already are.”

With utter indifference to his lack of clothing he walked across the room and slipped through the door. He began to move down the hall before he paused and returned to shift a chair so that it was blocking the door. Only then did he return to his proper chambers and swiftly prepare himself for the day.

An hour later found him in a murky alley as he leaned against an unremarkable carriage. Within the carriage was a gentleman that Philippe had met on several occasions, but had never seen. Not that unusual since their association was one of highest delicacy.

No one beyond Carlos knew that Philippe was commissioned by His Majesty, King George IV, to keep an eye on his various enemies, and even on occasion his closest friends. It was a bargain that worked well since Philippe's business led him throughout Europe and beyond to the Americas. He was the last sort of gentleman anyone would suspect of sneaking through houses in the dead of night, or stealing the private papers of the most influential politicians in the world.

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