A Daring Passion. Rosemary Rogers
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jacket and tossed his friend his leather purse. There was enough money within to bribe a dozen guards. Besides, he had already managed to use what influence he possessed with the king to ensure that Jean-Pierre was being held in a cell that was separated from the common riffraff. “When you see him, do not say my name. The guards will be bound to listen and I don’t wish them to know that I have arrived. Simply say that you brought his favorite hunter to town. He will know what you mean.”
“Fine.” Carlos pocketed the money with a grimace. “But, you had best hope that your brother has learned a few lessons in humility while he’s been in prison. I promised myself that I would beat him bloody the next time we met.”
Philippe clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I promise you can beat him bloody as often as you like once we have him out of Newgate.”
“I will hold you to that.”
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