His cold, penetrating gaze bored into her as he moved toward her. "You aren't lovers?"
The allegation hung between them, a keen reminder of their bitter past.
"No," Julienne repeated in a raw voice as Dare came to stand before her. "Ivers is not my lover. I haven't even seen him in years."
"So what was he doing here? Trying to get you back in his bed?"
"No."
His beautiful mouth curled in a twisted sneer. "You expect me to believe you?"
"Yes," she insisted. "I would never have him for my lover. I consider him no better than vermin. He makes my skin crawl."
Dare's face showed no signs of softening, though.
Julienne felt her heart sink at the accusation in his blazing eyes. She averted her gaze, knowing it was futile to plead further. Dare would never believe her after her betrayal seven years ago.
A savage ache clawed deep in her chest as desolation swept over her. She couldn't face his condemnation tonight. She wasn't strong enough to bear it.
She turned to go, but he reached out to grasp her wrist. When she recoiled instinctively, he pulled her hard against him, wrapping her in an unyielding embrace.
"Dare, no!"
He paid her no mind. His grip tightened to iron intensity as he bent his head to kiss her. The contact of his hard mouth was jarring, sending heat and lust and despair exploding through her. His kiss ravished without ardor; he was a man bent on punishing, intent on claiming what was his.
Julienne began to struggle as dark memories assaulted her. Panic hovering at the edges of her mind, she struck out at her attacker with her fists. "Stop!" Desperately fighting to be free, she tried to push him away. "Don't touch me!"
Her cry must have broken through his rage, for Dare suddenly released her.
She almost fell. Backing away, she slumped against the wall.
For a long moment Julienne remained there trembling, staring at his angry, unforgiving features. Then with a sob, she turned and stumbled down the corridor to her room.
Dare watched her flee, heard the slamming door, then the bolt being driven home as she locked herself away from him. He cursed. Vividly. He was still seething with jealousy, yet shaken by the knowledge of his violence.
He had frightened Julienne. He'd felt her cringe in his arms, had seen the flash of fear in her eyes when she fought him off.
God, what had he done?
Never before had he ever touched a woman who was less than eager. It was no excuse that the thought of Julienne betraying him a second time brought out the savage male in him. No excuse that he was terrified Ivers would take her from him again. No defense that he'd reacted with sheer primal instinct, his heart crying out in denial, pounding with the cloying dread that he might lose her once more.
Dare squeezed his eyes shut, remembering seven years of pain. He couldn't bear to endure that torment anew. He refused to endure it. He wouldn't let that bastard Ivers near Julienne again if he had his way.
And he bloody damned sure would make certain he had his way, Dare vowed harshly.
Julienne was eating breakfast in the public room with Solange the next morning when Dare came to fetch her. She eyed him warily, wondering if he meant to ignore last night's angry incident between them, but his enigmatic expression gave no clue as to his mood.
His farewell to Madame Brogard, however, was all charm as he promised to take good care of his charge.
When he escorted Julienne to the inn yard, she found herself glancing over her shoulder, nervously looking for Ivers. She was glad to have Dare beside her, even if he didn't seem to be speaking to her at the moment. Given his silence, she assumed he had no intention of apologizing for his brutal kiss. She would just as soon forget it herself.
When they settled in his traveling chaise, Julienne sank back against the squabs gratefully. She had slept badly, with Ivers figuring prominently in her nightmares. She would be glad for the distraction of visiting Newmarket's prime breeding stables.
It was some little while after the coach got underway before she noticed they were moving
at a speed that was hardly in keeping with the usual leisurely pace for touring the countryside.
She sat up to peer out the window, realizing that the road resembled the major thoroughfare they'd taken from London.