The Prince of Pleasure (Notorious 5)

Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, he carried her to the bed and fell with her. For a moment they rolled and tussled on the narrow mattress in a duel of desire, the turbulence of their clashing wills only adding to their passion. Julienne had wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and now was bucking and writhing beneath him. Dare felt his own arousal spurred and heightened by her tempestuous hunger.

Fearing he would burst, he covered her mouth in a deep, violent kiss of longing, and she responded just as fiercely, digging her nails into his shoulder blades, her fervor singeing, scalding, searing.

An instant later he felt the violence of her release. Julienne convulsed beneath him in a white-hot eruption, her scream captured by his mouth as he held her surging body down. The feel of her sleek, tight channel clutching around his shaft sent him over the edge. He sheathed himself to the hilt, his own hips jerking in a spasm of completion as savage, unrestrained pleasure washed over him in endless caresses of fire.

For a dozen heartbeats he lay sprawled on top of her, too exhausted to move. Finally, though, he eased his weight off her and gathered her limp body against him.

In the aftermath, Julienne lay wrapped in his arms, enveloped by his sinewy strength, her body boneless but her thoughts in turmoil. Her plan to punish Dare had gone awry; her lonely, yearning flesh had betrayed her, her resolve melting as anger turned to fervent hunger.

It was foolish to have succumbed to her passions, and yet she felt almost cleansed by the release of pent-up fury and hurt after so many years. Their lovemaking had been explosive, but she hadn't wanted careful tenderness from Dare. She'd been wild and wanton-burning for him.

She had relished the fiery tempest. And she cherished more the peace that came afterward. She had missed this desperately, the intimacy of lying with Dare, their bodies entwined. His lips felt so right, his arms felt so right, he felt so right. She could feel his heartbeat like an echo of her own.

And yet he thought her a traitor.

A long moment passed before she could control her resentment, her wrath.

"Despite what you believe of me," she said at last, her voice low and raw, "I would never aid the current regime in France. I hated the Revolutionists for murdering my father and destroying our future, but it was because of Napoleon that we remained destitute. If we had been able to recover even a part of the Folmont lands and fortune, I never would have-" She fell silent, gritting her teeth, knowing it was useless to ponder what-ifs.

"Never what?" Dare prodded, his warm breath brushing her temple.

"I never would have been compelled to prostitute myself."

She felt him go very still. She had shocked him, as she intended.

"What do you mean?" The question held a sharp edge that surprised her.

Can you possibly care? she thought defiantly.

"Your grandfather's allegations caused such a scandal for me that I could no longer show my face in public without creating a scene. I was branded a treacherous whore even by my friends." Anger drove her to continue. "I might have borne it, perhaps, but Maman was devastated. I left town, hoping to spare her. But the income from the shop wouldn't fully support her… And then her disease grew worse. She needed constant care and relief from the pain. So I took a protector to pay her bills."

"A protector?" Dare's voice was a low rasp.

Remembering, Julienne swallowed hard, fighting a sudden rush of ancient grief. "I had no choice. I was all Maman had."

His expression unreadable, Dare rose up on one elbow to stare down at her.

His image swam before her eyes, shimmering with the firelight and her foolish tears. She dashed them away furiously. She would not fall victim to self-pity. And she would not countenance his suspicions.

"I sold my body, Dare, but not my loyalty to this country."

At his intense scrutiny, she looked away, trying to hold fast to her anger; it was her sole defense against him. "I am not for sale! Not inside my soul. And I am not a traitor."

Dare remained silent, recalling when he had first met Julienne, how she had shielded her mother with all the fierceness of a lioness prot

ecting her cub. She had sacrificed far more than most daughters would have, selling her body to sustain her mother's final days. He felt a fierce stab of guilt that she had been brought so low-

Grimly Dare caught himself. He shouldn't feel guilt over what had become of Julienne. If she had never betrayed him with her lover, her mother would have been well cared for. He would have seen to it, even if they hadn't wed. But Julienne never had even given him the chance to make the offer.

"It hurts that you believed your grandfather's lies," she said after a moment.

I hurt, too, he thought. You cut out my heart. But he'd known those particular accusations of the old man's were lies. And he knew Julienne was still enraged by it. He could see the fire in her eyes-a long-burning, powerful anger amid the pain.

"I never believed my grandfather's accusations of treason," he said quietly.

"But you do think me capable of it now."

Dare bit back a sigh. "I admit when I first saw you with Riddingham, I wanted you to be guilty. I was still bitter about your betrayal seven years ago."