By tacit agreement they never spoke of the danger that threatened them, both preferring to see this interlude as a respite from the world. Yet Julienne soon recognized another source of danger: too many opportunities for emotional intimacy and tender remembrances.
The day following their arrival, the weather turned inclement. Rain came down in torrents, bringing back a winter chill to the air and forcing them to remain indoors.
After a lazy breakfast, they strolled in the conservatory, which was regrettably scented with roses. And listening to the rain beat against the panes of glass reminded Julienne too poignantly of a particular afternoon she'd spent with Dare in their cottage during a summer storm.
When she met his eyes briefly, she could tell he was recollecting the same moment.
"So tell me about your years in York," Dare prompted as if to change the subject.
His choice of topics was scarcely any more comforting to Julienne's mind.
One of the things she had appreciated most about Dare in the days of their courtship was that he was always so interested in her thoughts and feelings. Now his interest was simply worrisome. And yet Julienne found herself reminiscing about her life as a fledgling actress. There had been far more good times than bad, possibly because she had quickly become a success.
"So what have you been doing with your life all this time?" she asked in turn. "Has it been all debauchery and pleasure?"
Dare visibly winced. "Much of it, I'm afraid. I was serious when I said that after you, I lost interest in much of anything else."
She drew a measured breath and replied in a low voice. "I am sorry, Dare."
It was the first time she had apologized for breaking his heart, but he shrugged off her reply with a forced smile. "Let's forget about it, shall we? For these next few days we'll pretend the past never happened."
And yet Julienne wasn't able to forget. If anything, her remembrances only grew stronger the more time she spent with Dare.
He devoted every moment of the following days to entertaining her, displaying the consummate artistry of his passion in countless ways. He was a man of smoldering sensuality and insatiable appetites, with a demanding eroticism that ravished her senses. Even so, he was somehow different from the charming, wicked rakehell who had wagered to make her his mistress. In the tender intensity of his wooing, at least, he resembled much more the lover who had once utterly captured her heart.
It was his tenderness that Julienne considered most dangerous. The rivalry between them was more arousing than any aphrodisiac, more primal than any courtship, but Dare's tenderness penetrated every defense she had. And with every caress, every kiss, every sweet new intimacy, she found it harder to shield herself.
She tried to remind herself of their game, that Dare was merely set on winning their wager and repaying her for her past cruelty. But while her rational mind warned her to beware, her heart seemed to whisper something else altogether, something she wanted with a desperate longing.
Dare, too, felt the same longing. Their third night together he chose a different room, this one a study on the lower floor made up like a hunting lodge, walled with stag antlers and stuffed boars' heads.
"Another fantasy of mine," he said when Julienne saw the sable furs spread out before the hearth.
He built a roaring fire, and they toasted bread and cheese and fed each other between languid, heated kisses. Then they undressed each other slowly, taking their time, savoring the moment.
Dare left her hair for last… discarding the pins… letting the shining cascade tumble to her shoulders. Tangling his fingers in the silk, he tilted her head back so he could taste her warm parted lips, ready for his own. Then gently he lay Julienne down before the fire and ran his hands over her body, stroking the intoxicating softness of her skin.
He found the contrast of her luminous flesh against the luxurious fur riveting. And when her scent filled his nostrils, musky and beguiling in the warm room, every muscle in his body tightened with need.
"You're tempting as sin, lying there."
He was just as tempting, Julienne thought. His eyes glowed in the warm light of the fire, while his hair shimmered like molten gold.
With careless grace he stretched out beside her on the furs, lounging on one elbow. He gazed down at her, studying her with a mesmerizing intensity as palpable as a caress. His eyes took possession of her wherever they touched. Then his warm, naked fingers joined the exploration, finding her most sensitive spots, skimming over her flesh with the same seductiveness as his voice.
Julienne lost her breath long before he rolled her over so that she was lying facedown on the fur. He ran a finger along her spine, making her arch her back. Then, lightly grasping her hips, he lifted her to her knees so that she was bent over, with him kneeling, poised behind her.
Her fingers clenched in the rich fur when she realized his intent. But she craved the thrill of his possession any way he wanted her. She was hot, aching inside, the emptiness between her legs throbbing.
For a moment Dare stroked the smooth bottom cheeks that were brazenly presented for his attention. Julienne tensed as she felt his rigid maleness probe the center of her body, while her heart began a steady hammering.
"Dare?" she murmured.
"Easy," he said, calming her. He gripped his engorged shaft in his hand and slid the swollen crest over the lips of her sex, anointing it with honeyed liquid from her body.
Her breath grew shallow. She felt the press of his thighs, lean and powerful, urging her legs wider, felt the scoring heat of him as he leaned into her. Sweet shocks ripped through her as he invaded her sleek feminine passage, filling her inch by inch with his massive member.
Desire coiled inside her at his deep penetration, but then his hips began a slow undulation, rousing a devastating buildup of feverish hunger.