A Daring Passion

“Is that supposed to make sense?” she demanded.

He smiled wryly. “When does a gentleman in love ever make sense?”

“My God. No, Philippe.” With an agonized gasp she jerked from his touch and headed toward the door.

He caught her within a handful of steps, his arms wrapping about her waist as he buried his face in her neck.

“Do not run from me, Raine, I beg of you.”

Tears filled her eyes as she gave a frantic shake of her head. “I cannot do this.”

“Please, meu amor, you claimed that I had no need for another in my life, but you are wrong, just as I have been wrong for so long. I thought that being alone made me strong, but that was only an excuse.” He shifted his head to press his cheek against hers. “I was quite simply a coward.”

Raine was forced to grasp the lapels of his coat to keep from sinking to the ground. “You were afraid of me? Ridiculous.”

“I was afraid to allow you into my heart.” He made a sound deep in his throat. “No, that is not true. I had no choice about whether or not you entered my heart. You charged in without invitation. What I feared was acknowledging just how much you had become a part of my life. That was why I was so desperate to convince myself that you were no more than a passing fancy.”

The memory of his extravagant gifts returned with a sharp pain. “Your mistress,” she said in flat tones.

“Yes. A mistress does not break a gentleman’s heart. Or so I believed until you.” He grimaced. “But even as I was attempting to deceive myself, a part of me knew the truth. Why else was I frantic to find you after you disappeared from London? Why else did I force you to travel with me to Paris? Why else did I spend every moment attempting to bind you to me so tightly that you could never escape? Either I am truly a madman, or I already knew that you were the one woman who was destined to be my future.”

Raine’s eyes filled with tears. “Pretty words, but that does not alter the reason I left you, Philippe.”

“I know, meu amor. You asked nothing more of me than to accept that I need you. And I am here to tell you that I do. I need you so desperately that I will do anything.” Without warning Philippe slowly kneeled before her, his darkened gaze never leaving her face. “Even get down on my knees if that is what you desire, to prove I am empty and lost without you.”

“What are you doing?” she breathed in surprise. Never in her life had she expected to see Philippe Gautier on his knees. Not for any reason.

“I have something for you. Actually, I have two gifts.”

Her brief bemusement was shattered with a flare of annoyance.

“Good God, Philippe. Do you still think I can be purchased like a piece of goods?”

“No, you will want these gifts, I assure you,” he interrupted, reaching beneath his greatcoat to pull out a folded piece of parchment.

Raine stiffened, painfully reminded of her last day on Madeira. If this parchment held another three thousand pounds she swore that she would blacken his eye. And perhaps break that perfect nose.

With shaking fingers she unfolded the paper, her brows drawing together as realized there were no unpleasant surprises.

“A letter?” she muttered, her eyes widening as her gaze drifted over the elaborate, sprawling handwriting at the bottom of the page. “Good heavens, it is signed by the king of England.”

Still on his knees, Philippe flashed a heart-rending smile. “I requested that he assure you that Seurat has been released.”

Raine sucked in deep breaths of the hay-scented air. She was accustomed to Philippe charging into her life and creating chaos, but this made no sense.

“You have had him released?” She gave a shake of her head. “But why?”

“Because it was what you desired,” he said simply. “And from this day forward I intend to prove that I will do whatever necessary to make you happy.”

She licked her dry lips as she struggled to accept that he truly had made such a sacrifice for her. And it was a sacrifice. Seurat had threatened his family, and for Philippe there could be no greater sin. His need to punish the man was an overwhelming force in his life.

And he had given it up. For her.

“I…I do not know what to say,” she whispered.

With elegant ease Philippe rose to his feet, once again reaching beneath his coat.

“Here is my other gift,” he said softly.