A Daring Passion

RAINE TOOK FULL ADVANTAGE of the vast breakfast and even lingered in the hot bath far longer than was her habit. Why not? She was not the sort of woman to curl up in a corner and weep at her iniquitous fate. Or to create an unpleasant scene that would only embarrass her.

She would eventually find some means to force Philippe to set her free. Until then she might as well enjoy the few luxuries that came her way.

What other rational choice was there?

Once the tray and bath had been cleared away, however, Raine found herself pacing the room with a growing sense of restlessness.

During her years at the convent she had rarely had a free moment. There were always classes and duties and chores that had to be completed. And since returning home she at least had the beauty of the woods and meadows to roam through when her boredom threatened to overcome her.

With a sudden motion she reached for the heavy cloak and wrapped it snugly around her. When they had first arrived at the inn she had noted a small kitchen garden at one side of the building. There would be no room for a proper stroll, but at least she could get some fresh air.

Her decision made, she moved to the door and pulled it open. She never made it over the threshold, however, before the tall, dark form of Carlos was blocking her path.

Stiffening in surprise, she regarded the unwelcome man with a lift of her brows.

“Please move aside,” she declared in a tone that demanded obedience.

The gentleman merely smiled as he leaned one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. “You must remain in your rooms. It is not safe to be out.”

Raine narrowed her gaze. The man was indecently handsome, of course. His dark Latin looks were combined with a sultry passion that seemed to smolder in the air around him. Precisely the sort of gentleman that made a woman think of warm, exotic gardens and illicit love affairs.

But what Raine was thinking at the moment was that she wanted to blacken his eye.

“I am only going to the small garden.”

He slowly smiled, his large bulk as efficient as a brick wall in keeping her from freedom.

“You will go nowhere until Philippe can accompany you,” he said, his accent only faintly noticeable. Philippe was not the only one who spent time in England, she thought inanely.

Anger flared through her as she glared into his dark eyes. “Philippe may be capable of blackmailing me into remaining with him, but even he cannot halt me from taking a simple stroll. Move out of my way.”

The brilliant white smile merely widened as Carlos grasped her shoulders and firmly moved her backward. Then, before she could recover herself, he was closing the door in her face.

“I am sorry, anjo,” he called through the heavy wood even as she heard him turn a key in the lock.

Sorry?

Oh, he would be sorry.

Him and his overbearing, infuriating master.

She turned and marched toward the connecting door and entered the second chamber like a gathering storm cloud.

Her only thought was confronting Philippe and demanding to know why he insisted on keeping her locked in her rooms as if she were some wild animal.

It seemed worthy goal, until she reached the middle of the room and realized that Philippe was just stepping from the bath that had been situated by the fireplace.

“Oh,” she gasped, abruptly turning her back on his nude body. “Good Lord.”

His soft laugh feathered over her skin. “There is no need for such shock, meu amor. You are welcome to enter my chambers at any time you please. Especially if I happen to be without my clothes.”

Heat burned her cheeks. Which was rather ridiculous. God knew that she had spent an inordinate amount of time fantasizing about the feel of that hard body pressed against her own.

“Please cover yourself,” she said.

“So shy,” he teased. There was a rustle of movement and then Philippe moved behind her to lightly touch her shoulder. “You may turn around now.”

“You are decent?”