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.
PHILIPPE 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.
And of course for Philippe, it meant a tidy fortune in rewards and the gratitude of a king.
No, not a bad bargain at all.
“Our friend understands your concern and will do all in his power to ensure that Jean-Pierre is kept safe and as comfortable as possible,” the man in the carriage was saying through the narrow opening
