A Daring Passion

“I cannot.”

“Good.” Philippe closed his lips over the hardened nipple, his grip tightening on her wrists as she abruptly arched upward in shocked pleasure.

“Dear God,” she breathed.

Philippe barely noticed her ready response. This was no calculated seduction, no well-rehearsed lovemaking that was designed to captivate his partner while leaving him satisfied, but unaffected.

Far from it. His blood rushed through his veins and his heart pounded with excitement. The woman must be part fey, he decided as he suckled her with a growing insistence. Only some dastardly magic could have set his body on fire with such shocking need.

Any thought of the inappropriateness of seducing some unknown wench in a near-frigid carriage was lost as Philippe pressed his erection against her hip. He wanted to spread her legs and take her with a fierce, pounding passion. He wanted to be so deep inside her that her moist heat surrounded him completely.

Using his teeth and tongue, he mercilessly teased her sensitive flesh. Her soft moans filled the carriage, her head twisting from side to side as if she were battling her rising tide of desire.

“No, I—” she gave a small gasp “—I will confess all.”

Her husky voice was an unwelcome intrusion as Philippe was busily learning the sweet hollow between her breasts.

“Mmm?”

“Stop this and I will tell you the truth.”

Philippe muttered a savage curse as he was forced to pull back and study her flushed face. A portion of his mind might remind him that a confession was precisely what he had desired when he had started this business, but the larger part of him wished she had kept her lips closed. Damn, he had never endured such a brutal need for release.

“Explain,” he at last managed to mutter.

Her dark eyes were stormy. “I am here because of my father.”

Philippe frowned in disbelief. “Your father has forced you to become a highwayman?”

“No, of course not,” she denied. “My father is the Knave of Knightsbridge.”

His gaze flicked over her deliciously rumpled form. “So, you are the daughter of a common criminal,” he said, not without some satisfaction.

He would not hesitate to seduce a noblewoman, of course, but her disreputable position did make sure that there would be no complications.

Raine gave a low hiss of fury. “Josiah Wimbourne is no common criminal. He was a hero in the Royal Navy and decorated by the king.” Her tiny chin tilted. “More than that he is a wonderful person who has devoted his life to caring for me and for his neighbors.”

“You have admitted that he is a highwayman.”

“Only because he was desperate t

o help the poor and the helpless in our village. The people who are forgotten and neglected by everyone but him.”

Philippe was unmoved. He would wager his finest vineyards that the heroic Josiah Wimbourne kept the lion’s share of his bounty for his own pleasure.

After all, it was obvious the man had no conscience whatsoever.

“I should think more of his efforts if he didn’t willingly risk his own daughter’s life for his noble deeds,” he said coldly.

“I assure you that my father argued fiercely against my taking on his role, but we had no choice.” She paused before she grudgingly continued her explanation. “The magistrate was becoming far too suspicious. It was necessary to divert him before he had my father arrested.”

“And so you took on the role?”

“Just until my father could return.”

He gave a slow shake of his head. Meu Deus, what other woman would have endangered herself in such a manner?

This Raine Wimbourne was either incredibly loyal or touched in the head.