The Prince of Pleasure (Notorious 5)

She regretted that the most, for the scandal had only weakened the comptess's rapidly deteriorating health. To spare her mother further anguish, Julienne had resolved to abandon her familiar life and numbly had begun the search for another home and occupation.

It was sheer coincidence that a traveling troupe of actors from York had returned to the district during her darkest moments. She could claim a slight acquaintance with them, for she had helped with costumes in past years. When they learned of her desperation, they offered her a means to escape the scandal, as well as shelter and solace and friendship.

With little chance of finding any sort of respectable employment, Julienne had joined their troupe and wound up settling in York. She spent years honing the skills of her new profession, her sole focus on survival- for both herself and her mother.

Most of her small earnings she sent home. And the millinery, which continued under the supervision of her sales clerk, initially earned enough to pay the doctors' bills. But the situation grew dire when her mother's wasting disease worsened, forcing Julienne to make some harsh choices so that her mother's final days might be less excruciating.

Even so, she

had not stopped loving Dare. Not at first. For years he had haunted her, figuring in her fondest dreams and her darkest nightmares. The memories of his lovemaking had remained intense, desperate, wild. She had ached for his caresses, for the piercing pleasure he had given her.

Yet eventually she had taken control of her life and carved out a new future for herself. Since Maman's death nearly four years ago, Julienne had worked to achieve a kind of peace-and even found contentment of sorts.

When recently she was offered a plum engagement at the Drury Lane Theater in London for a substantial salary, she had accepted, refusing to let Dare's presence here destroy her hard-won opportunity for financial independence. Fame didn't interest her; fortune did. If she was successful enough, if she could command the income of a preeminent actress, then she would be free to make her own choices, to determine her own future. Never again would she be vulnerable and defenseless or dependent on any man's whims.

With trepidation, she had reentered Dare's world, wanting urgently to prove to herself that she was entirely over him. Wanting to close that door to their past irrevocably so that she could move on with her life.

Seeing Dare again, however, had reopened a dormant wound, roused an ache inside her that made it hard even to breathe.

Determinedly Julienne inhaled several slow, deep breaths, practicing the calming techniques she had learned at the beginning of her acting career.

The worst was over. Despite whatever game Dare was playing, she could manage to shield her emotions.

I can keep him distant, she vowed, although the weak trembling in her limbs belied her resolve.

She was grateful when the other lead actors in the company joined her. They were followed shortly by a throng of admirers, and in moments the green room was filled to overflowing, abuzz with talk of a certain scandalous nobleman.

Pretending that the spectacle had not affected her in the least, Julienne summoned a dazzling smile for the gentlemen clustered around her.

They had one intention, she well knew: to bribe their way into her bed. Any female in her profession was expected to be available for the right price. But though she was determined to keep her bed solitary, she had an image to maintain. And tonight she had an additional task-assuring her cavaliers that despite Wolverton's bold declaration, he would prove no rival for her affections.

One of the most vocal of her courtiers was Hugh Bramley, Viscount Riddingham. Tall and slightly gangly, he possessed unremarkable brown hair and nondescript features, but he was affable and amusing and extremely well-mannered, and Julienne found herself fonder of him than any of the others.

Riddingham was clearly unhappy with the turn of events, however, and showed an unmistakable jealousy.

"The nerve of the rogue, making such an exhibition of himself. Miss Laurent, I trust you don't intend to permit that insufferable fellow to make you the target of his depraved amusements. His perversions are legend."

"He will be no danger to me if you are at hand to protect me," she returned lightly, trying to soothe Riddingham's ruffled feathers while keeping a nervous eye on the door, expecting Dare to make an appearance at any moment.

It was all she could do to hide her tension and feign interest in their witticisms. When she was offered a dozen invitations for a late-night supper, she declined prettily, claiming fatigue.

Three-quarters of an hour later, her less persistent swains had retired from the lists and the crowd had thinned somewhat. Having regained a small measure of her composure, Julienne began to hope that she needn't deal with the notorious marquess any further this evening and she could retire to her dressing room and then to her lodgings alone.

She was laughing over one of Riddingham's sallies when she suddenly saw the viscount stiffen. A noted hush fell over the company, and when the sea of gentleman parted, Dare North stood before her.

Julienne's heart somersaulted violently in her chest.

At first glance he seemed to possess the same refined elegance she remembered, the same lithe grace, the same lean hardness. Yet his shoulders were broader beneath his exquisitely tailored blue coat, she noted; his thighs more powerfully muscled, sheathed in formal satin breeches.

His elaborate cravat set off the fine, aristocratic features she found just as striking as they had been seven years ago. His face, with its high cheekbones and noble brow, had always had the devil's own beauty.

It was all Julienne could do to keep from staring.

Dare had no such reservations, apparently. His slow appraisal seemed to penetrate her garments, brushing over her bosom significantly revealed by the low, square neckline of her elaborate costume, moving to her narrow waist, then resting on her hips encased in flaring panniers. It was the measuring scrutiny of a man who knew women intimately.

She took a steadying breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

"At last I understand why all London is raving," he said. "From a distance, your stage presence is stunning. But in close proximity… your beauty renders me inarticulate."