A Daring Passion

Horrid, horrid man.

“Are you always so offensive?”

“Only to those who dare to attack my carriage and point a pistol at my heart.”

Her hands clenched into tight fists in her lap, but she at least possessed the sense not to strike out. He was no doubt the sort who would strike back, even if she was a woman.

“You cannot know how desperately I wish I had put a bullet through your heart.”

His smile was suddenly genuine. “Then let this be a lesson to you, menina pequena, on the next occasion do not hesitate.”

“Have no fear. I will not so much as blink.”

An unexpected chuckle filled the carriage, flowing down Raine’s spine with a delicious warmth.

“So savage, and not at all what one would expect from an English wench,” he murmured in appreciation. “They are usually so dull and bland. But then, what can one expect from such a cold, gray country?”

Raine regarded him warily. She distrusted his heat as much as his ice. Indeed, the heat had proved far more dangerous.

“England is not cold and gray,” she protested as she leaned back in her seat. “And its citizens are certainly not dull.”

“No?”

“No. Especially not those born in Kent. I will have you know that our motto is Invicta.”

“Unconquered?” he easily translated.

“Exactly.” A sense of pride flowed through Raine. She had always loved her home. The beauty of the rolling hills and fields. The gentle rivers. The lovely villages with their clapboard cottages and timbered halls. And the hardworking men and women who toiled each day to scrape a living from the earth. “We have produced men such as Wat Tyler and Jack Cade, who raised armies to seek justice for their neighbors. And Nelson himself lived in Chatham.”

“And now, of course, you have the Knave of Knightsbridge.”

“Yes, we do,” she said without the least hint of apology.

“And I have his daughter.”

There was a rap on the carriage window before Raine could reply, not that she knew what she intended to say.

Philippe turned to lower the window and spoke in a low voice to Carlos, who was riding on Raine’s beautiful mare beside the carriage. They spoke too low for Raine to catch the words, but she didn’t doubt they were plotting something nefarious.

Despicable pair of cads.

With a smooth motion, Philippe closed the window and returned his attention to her angry countenance.

“I suppose your friend has no compunction about kidnapping a young, defenseless woman, either?” she said bitterly.

He tugged a curtain over the window. “At the moment he still believes you to be a young, defenseless lad. I think it best we keep it that way.”

“Why? Does he possess the morals you lack?”

The green eyes narrowed. “Very few, and none when it comes to a beautiful woman who is without the protection of her family. Do I make my meaning clear?”

She swallowed heavily, wishing to heaven this was all just a terrible nightmare that she would wake from.

Unfortunately the large male form consuming far more than his fair share of the carriage was all too real. As was the manner his gaze was straying over her body with increasing frequency.

The fact that his glances were causing the strangest tingles in the pit of her stomach only deepened her anger.

“You call my father a common criminal, but it is you and men like you that are truly evil. I hope someday you get your just rewards.”