The Prince of Pleasure (Notorious 5)

Her brow furrowing, Julienne searched Dare's face. "Do you honestly think Riddingham could be so heinous as to murder an innocent girl?"

"I don't know. It would help to discover whether he even knew Alice Watson, and whether he had the opportunity to woo her. I'd give a monkey to know where he was on March seventh when she was killed. It could prove-or perhaps even disprove-his complicity."

"Is there anythi

ng I can do?" Julienne offered. "Perhaps I could discreetly question Riddingham and see what I can learn."

"No," Dare said curtly, "I will handle it."

He felt Julienne studying him. "A few days ago you suggested I take him for my lover so I could try to ferret out his secrets."

"A few days ago I was behaving like a jealous ass."

"And you are not now?"

His mouth curved in a reluctant grin. "I admit I harbor a measure of possessiveness where you're concerned. And jealousy isn't my only reason for declining your offer to investigate. If Riddingham is a killer, I don't want you anywhere near him. You should dress warmly tomorrow," Dare warned, changing the subject. "The wind will be wicked with the pace I intend to set."

She sighed. "What time should I be ready?"

"I'll call for you in the morning at half past nine… Unless you mean to invite me to spend the night with you to save time…?"

"Do you never give up?" Julienne said in exasperation.

"Never," Dare retorted with an amused laugh.

The remainder of their drive was accomplished in relative harmony. And when Dare returned her to her lodgings, he merely kissed her fingers again. But he wanted to do more. Much more.

Clearly, however, Julienne was not of the same mind, Dare reflected irritably as he drove away. His powers of seduction had never proved so pitiful.

He was getting nowhere with her, certainly not where he wanted to be, which was in bed with her naked beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist. He was beginning to be positively haunted by visions of making love to her again.

There was only one advantage to their current stalemate, Dare acknowledged. Since her betrayal all those years ago, he had felt numb inside, but now he felt eager, alive, all his senses teeming. He woke each morning looking forward to the day, counting the moments till he saw Julienne again-

At the thought, Dare cursed. She had been right on that score: she was a supreme danger to him. He was becoming besotted with her, whether he wished to or not.

He needed to conquer his growing obsession with her, Dare chided himself. Needed to prove that he could satisfy his fierce craving by other means.

Accordingly, that night he visited the Widow Dunleith again. Her cool reception should not have surprised him. Louisa clearly didn't like playing second fiddle to a mere actress, and her jealousy showed in every barbed remark she made during dinner. So he left shortly afterward, without so much as a kiss.

He could have charmed her out of her sulks, Dare knew. Most women allowed him anything he wanted when he put himself out to please.

The trouble was, he didn't want most women. Sex with anyone but Julienne left him feeling alone and empty. Every time he touched a woman, he was grasping for the exquisite, primitive intensity he'd once known with her-and not finding it. No matter how many times he warned himself to forget her, the ache of longing remained.

He tried to tell himself the feeling was due to sexual frustration. He wasn't accustomed to abstinence, and he didn't like it. Any more than he liked having to fight his way past the queue of calf-eyed, romantic young fools who were always at Julienne's side.

Yet he was very much afraid that his frustration would lead him to do something reckless, like throttle the next man who leered at her.

He'd wanted to do just that earlier today when he'd caught Riddingham staring at her full, ripe bosom. He'd wanted to drag the viscount from his curricle and pummel him with his fists…

What riled him most, however, was the affection Julienne seemed to bear for the man, while he only roused her angry defenses.

Cunning killer or not, Dare thought as he tossed and turned in his solitary bed, Viscount Riddingham had best watch his back.

The next day dawned fair and pleasant for early spring. Despite her reservations, Julienne found herself enjoying the short drive to Primrose Hill just north of the city. She had dressed warmly, as Dare suggested, in a green velvet riding habit. And he had laid a carriage rug across her lap to ward off the remaining morning chill.

Riddingham was already waiting when they turned into the crowded yard of the posting inn, with Miss Upcott at his side. The actress was garbed in crimson and a high poke bonnet, which Julienne suspected would catch a great deal of wind once the race got underway.

Not surprisingly a large number of spectators had gathered to watch, she saw as Dare threaded a path through the crush of vehicles. There were several carriages filled with both ladies and gentlemen and more than a dozen sporting bucks on horseback. The wagers flew fast and furious, with most putting their money on Dare.