A Daring Passion

She pulled back and Philippe reluctantly let her go. For the moment he needed his wits about him. Something that was i

mpossible when her soft body was pressed to his.

“Need of me?” Her expression was wary. “What does that mean?”

“I must travel to France to discover a man known as Seurat. I cannot risk having him realize that I suspect him. Since no one knows that I have yet traveled to London, I only need a reason for being in Paris, a city I am known to despise. You will offer me that reason.” His gaze skimmed her beautiful face. “What man would not be willing to toss aside all prejudices and responsibilities to be with the young, innocent maiden he has lured from a local convent?”

She was shaking her head in denial before he ever finished. “No.”

“Yes, querida.”

“Philippe, please.” The hands that had lingered on his upper arms clutched him with a surprising force. “You must return me to my father. He will be worried about me.”

“You may write him a note from Dover to reassure him you are well if you desire. Of course, I will insist upon seeing it before it is sent.” He smiled without humor. “You will not be allowed to mention me or our destination.”

Her hands abruptly dropped to curl into tight fists in her lap. “You will take me against my will?”

“If I must.”

“I will only escape again.”

“No, you will not leave my side.”

“Do you intend to shackle me to you?”

His lips twitched at the delicious thought of having her shackled and at his mercy.

“An intriguing possibility, but unnecessary.”

“You surely cannot be so arrogant as to believe you can seduce me into remaining?”

“An even more intriguing possibility, and one I do not doubt would be most effective, but once again unnecessary,” he drawled.

She made a frustrated sound and a shudder shook her body as if she were struggling not to throttle him.

“If you have something to say, then say it, Philippe.”

“Very well.” He leaned close enough that their noses were nearly touching. “If you so much as think about straying from my side without my permission, I will personally promise the local magistrate that I will testify that your father is the Knave of Knightsbridge.”

There was a moment of shocked silence before Raine was at last provoked into doing what she had obviously longed to do since entering the carriage.

Pulling back her arm, she aimed her blow directly at his nose. It was not the feminine slap of most outraged ladies. Oh, no, this was a closed-fist punch that was intended to do as much harm as possible.

With an easy motion, Philippe grasped her wrist and halted the swinging arm. Keeping his grip on her wrist, he forced her hand back to her lap.

“Take care, menina pequena,” he warned.

“You…bastard,” she hissed.

His gaze narrowed. “I am not the one who chooses to endanger my family by prancing about the countryside and robbing innocent travelers.”

“I told you that my father only seeks to help those in need.”

“Innocent fool, do you truly think that is his only reason?”

She stiffened at his soft question. “If you mean to imply that my father keeps any of the money for himself…”

“No, his greed is not for silver or gold, but for the adoration of his neighbors.”