The prince of pleasure n-5

by Nicole Jordan

  He was merely attempting to distract her… That was it, she thought, suddenly furious at his underhanded tactics.

  Her heart hammered as she tore her mouth away. "How dare you-" she began, struggling to elude his grasp, but his mouth clamped down on hers, smothering her angry words.

  Flames fanned out over her body, burning her, inciting her as his arms came around her. Somehow, though, she found the strength of will to resist his seduction. Her head reeling, she forced her hands between them and shoved at Dare's chest, finally making him break his hold and his kiss.

  "Stop it! Just stop!" Her breath ragged, she glared up at him. "I want to know what the devil you were doing in those rooms."

  His lips were still moist from kissing her, and she saw them press together in a tight line. "I'll tell you, but not here in the hall."

  Opening her bedchamber door, he pushed her through and followed, shutting them in together.

  Suddenly feeling skittish about being here alone with Dare, Julienne moved halfway across the room, out of reach.

  "Well?" she demanded, still breathless.

  "Riddingham could be a traitor," he said simply.

  She stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

  "Last year a nobleman calling himself Caliban wreaked havoc on our war efforts, smuggling stolen gold to Napoleon…"

  Julienne listened in astonishment as Dare told her a shocking tale of murder and blackmail, and about the hunt for Caliban and a ruby-eyed dragon ring. That Dare himself might be involved in trying to rid the country of a traitor had been the furthest conceivable thing from her mind.

  "And you think Riddingham might be Caliban?" she said slowly at the conclusion of his story.

  Where his gaze had been guarded before, Dare's eyes were now narrowed, watching her reaction. "He has the ring… although he claims to have won it at piquet. It's possible Caliban decided that keeping so unique an ornament in his possession was dangerous. He might have deliberately palmed it off on Riddingham to divert attention from himself, to throw us off the scent."

  She frowned, hesitating to believe such accusations without proof. Seven years ago she herself had been unjustly accused of treason by Dare's grandfather, and she would never leap to condemn anyone else, no matter how strong the suspicions.

  "Somehow I find it hard to believe that Riddingham could be a mastermind of espionage. He is quite genial and possesses exquisite manners, but I don't consider him particularly clever. I should think a traitor of the caliber you're suggesting would have sharper wits than I've seen of his."

  "I've had similar thoughts," Dare replied. "But he's our only link to Caliban, and I have to follow his trail, no matter how far-fetched."

  "Why you? I am frankly astounded that you would be involved in playing spy."

  "Worthless fribble that I am?"

  Julienne felt her cheeks flush. "I didn't say that. But you are known as the Prince of Pleasure. Your part in this seems just as far-fetched as Riddingham's."

  "All the more reason for me to be the one to investigate him-because he is unlikely to suspect me. In fact, I invited him here so I could keep a close eye on him."

  A startling thought struck Julienne like a blow; it took her breath away. "Is that why you decided to pursue me? So you could watch Riddingham?"

  Dare's expression was shuttered. "Initially, perhaps. But he's no longer the sole reason. Once we made our wager, I realized how badly I wanted to win it."

  Her thoughts whirling, Julienne raised a hand to her temple.

  "Actually this house party allowed me to observe some of Riddingham's friends as well," Dare added. "He professes that both Ormsby and Perrine were in game when he won the ring. But nothing in their behavior thus far supports the possibility of either of them being Caliban. And I've searched their rooms and found nothing questionable."

  Julienne still didn't respond as she tried to take in his extraordinary revelation: Dare had used her to get closer to his real target. Their entire wager had been a ploy from the beginning.

  "So do you intend to warn Riddingham of my suspicions?" Dare asked when she was silent.

  "Of course not," she said absently.

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You will have to forget this conversation ever took place. If you begin treating Riddingham any differently, you could give the game away."

  Julienne's chin came up at that. "You don't need to instruct me how to play a role. I am an excellent actress."

  "I know," he drawled mockingly, yet she couldn't help hearing the edge of bitterness in his tone.

  When she gave him a sharp glance, he returned a dark stare, his gaze hot, piercing, accusatory. Suddenly Julienne was unbearably aware of the intimacy of being here alone with him.

  "You needn't worry that I will give you away," she assured Dare as she brushed past him. "I plan to maintain the ridiculous charade of our wager."

  She was about to open the door when his strong arms reached out to draw her back.

  Julienne held herself rigid, not daring to breathe. "Let me go, please."

  But Dare didn't release her. Instead his arms came around her shoulders. Her pulse leaping, Julienne bit her lip, deploring the way his physical presence engulfed her senses.

  "It isn't a charade," he murmured. "I still want you, Jewel."

  His breath stirred her hair and sent chills all over her. Even as she shivered, his warm hands slipped inside her bodice and began to play tantalizingly with her nipples.

  Julienne squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the instinctive desire to flee for her life-and the deeper desire to surrender to his caresses. She wanted to melt against his warmth…

  "My beautiful Jewel," he whispered in that erotic, masculine voice that never failed to bring her senses alive.

  Oh, God, she thought, aching as his tongue traced the shell of her ear. His fingers tightened on her stiffened nipples, and she caught her lip between her teeth as a fiery spasm of pleasure shot down to her lower abdomen.

  She shook her head, struggling desperately against her long-stemmed hunger. She hungered for physical warmth, for Dare.

  "I want you," he repeated. "I want you hot and wild and burning with desire for me." His whisper filled her mind, his words a rich promise, husky, lavish with sensuality. "Say you want me, too, Julienne."

  She did want him. She had been alone so long. She craved the intimacy of Dare's touch, needed it…

  Whimpering softly, she arched against his arousing fingers. His seductive caresses were scorching her, shaking her resolve, shredding her will… reminding her of all he could make her feel, of all the pleasure he could give her, all the devastating hurt-

  Her throat constricted at the stab of remembered pain.

  "No," Julienne protested, her whisper wild and low. "I don't want this, Dare. I don't want you."

  Drawing a shaky breath, she wrenched herself away, then pulled open the door and fled.

  Alone, his arms empty, Dare shut his eyes and cursed. His senses still swam with the elusive essence that was unmistakably Julienne's; his body still ached for her. He was hard and hotter than hell.

  He could almost feel the wet heat of her surrounding him, feel her gliding tightly around his throbbing shaft…

  Yet despite his body's discomfort, the fierce ache in his chest had somehow eased. Julienne had seemed completely taken aback by his revelations about Caliban and his reasons for searching Riddingham's rooms. She didn't appear to be in league with either one of them.

  Dare ran a hand roughly though his hair. If she was indeed a confederate of Caliban's, then he had just put himself in grave danger. And if she went running to Riddingham, she would prove her guilt. But at least it would end his uncertainty about her.

  He felt a muscle flex in his jaw. Julienne was a consummate actress, true, but his instincts told him she wasn't lying. Which meant she was likely innocent of duplicity.

  A pity, Dare thought darkly, feeling an unexpected stab of regret. Her guilt might have freed him o
f his obsession with her, helped him to break the chains that still held him enraptured.

  And if she was innocent? Even before now it had occurred to him that if he dragged her into his investigations, Julienne herself could be in danger from Caliban.

  For an instant, the sickening image flashed through his mind of the dead companion's body…

  Dare shook his head adamantly. Julienne Laurent could take care of herself. He was the one who was in peril-of succumbing to her insidious allure.

  Sardonically, he glanced down at his breeches. His guests would be expecting him, but he couldn't very well face them in this condition. He needed a change of clothing at a minimum. And as he let himself from Julienne's bedchamber, Dare wondered if he had time to take a cold bath as well.

  Chapter Seven

  "So?" Solange prodded Julienne the next day as they stood watching Dare dance with the moonstruck daughter of a neighboring squire. He had hired musicians from Brighton for the evening and opened his ballroom to the local gentry. "Are you not worried that you might have competition?"

  "No," Julienne answered easily. "Lord Wolverton prefers his partners a trifle less tongue-tied."

  Dare was far too experienced a rake to be attracted to a shy young miss barely out of the schoolroom, Julienne knew. More critically, he was unlikely to be diverted from his current goal of making her his conquest.

  Dare had resumed his full-fledged pursuit of her- much to the gratification of the majority of his house-guests.

  Truthfully, though, Julienne felt relieved now that she understood Dare's game. Why he would have swallowed his anger and injured male pride to publicly pursue her now made sense: he intended to have his revenge and attempt to expose a cunning traitor at the same time.

  This house party was primarily for Riddingham's benefit, not hers, she saw now. And perhaps Dare's effort at spying wasn't as far-fetched as she had first supposed. Now that she knew what to look for, she realized that he paid close attention to Riddingham's slightest action or comment, although without appearing to. Dare missed nothing.

  And even if she smarted a little from her own wounded pride, knowing that Dare didn't really want her, the fact that he was playing cat and mouse with someone else was somehow comforting, for she could better defend herself against his seductive assault. Her heart desperately needed any armor she could find. She would never survive falling in love with him again.

  The ball proved a crush, since all his neighbors had accepted his invitation with alacrity. They had all heard of the wager, it seemed. And Julienne was determined to give them what they had come for. On the few occasions this evening when she'd encountered Dare, she had kept up her end of their verbal jousting for the benefit of the onlookers.

  "He is a marvelous dancer," Solange commented now, watching with admiration.

  He was indeed, Julienne agreed silently-fluid and graceful and highly attentive, focusing intently on his partner, even if she was a timorous young innocent.

  "And he is said to be just as marvelous a lover. I hear he is fiendishly inventive in bed."

  "His sexual prowess means little to me," Julienne prevaricated.

  Just then the cotillion ended, and Julienne felt the bold touch of Dare's hungry gaze as his eyes sought her out from across the room.

  "Mon Dieu," Solange breathed. "He looks as if he wishes to devour you."

  Julienne managed a shrug. "It is all pretense. Merely a game we are playing."

  "Bien," her friend retorted. "But you know what they say about playing with fire, mon amie. You should take care you do not get burned."

  "I will keep that in mind. Will you excuse me? I think that is my cue."

  Julienne could tell by the buzz of anticipation that she was the center of attention as she made her way through the crowd and demanded a waltz from Dare.

  "For shame, my lord," she said with a flirtatious smile. "You promised to dance with me, but you have been unforgivably neglectful. Or perhaps it is that you fear giving me the opportunity to win our wager."

  "I have been trembling in my boots all evening," Dare responded mildly.

  "Quite a feat, since you are wearing pumps."

  He grinned and took her in his arms.

  Julienne allowed him to sweep her away, waiting until they had settled into the rhythm of the waltz before gazing up at Dare. "Truthfully, I thought perhaps I should rescue that poor girl. She looked rather like she might faint from fright."

  Shaking his head, Dare gave a mock shudder. "I'm the one who needed rescuing. I owe you my gratitude, love."

  "Think nothing of it, my lord. My gesture was not so selfless. I am eager to have you on your knees."

  He chuckled. "Ah, my lovely Jewel, you know very well that you had me on my knees the first moment we met."

  "I scarcely think so. The first time we met, I was too busy fending off your cousin's claws."

  Dare's eyes kindled with what appeared to be fond memory. "Do you remember the blistering set down you gave her?"

  She did indeed. Dare had come to Kent in June for his beautiful young cousin's wedding and, in a moment of ennui, had escorted the haughty Miss Emerson into the millinery. Julienne had waited on them patiently while the spoiled young lady disparaged both the quality and quantity of the merchandise.

  "I believe I was entirely justified," Julienne replied wryly. "I held my tongue until she scorned my accent and derided my origins, and then I finally lost my temper."

  Her response had enraged the arrogant Miss Emerson but set amusement dancing in the earl's eyes. He had returned alone the next day, bent on seducing her.

  "I thought you were magnificent," Dare said, his voice a heated murmur. "I still think you magnificent. Why don't we slip away from here and find a bed upstairs?"

  Bending to place his lips near her ear, he breathed in a husky, intimate tone exactly what he would like to do to her if he had her alone.

  Julienne found herself shivering in response. Even though she now understood the purpose of Dare's public game of seduction, it was more difficult than she expected to keep up the charade, for she couldn't deny the fevered undercurrents of passion that still simmered between them.

  But she refused to give Dare the satisfaction of thinking her affected.

  Julienne returned a coy smile and whispered sweetly in his own ear. "Do, by all means, go upstairs and undress and wait for me."

  "And will you follow me, my lovely Jewel?"

  "Indeed, as soon as I can assemble enough of your guests to accompany me. I want witnesses to observe the spectacle of you dancing to my tune."

  Her offer earned a bark of laughter from the Marquess of Wolverton and had countless heads turning in their direction.

  She should have known, however, that Dare would not allow her the last word. That night after the ball ended, Julienne had just prepared for bed and settled beneath the covers when she heard strains of a violin coming from outside her bedchamber window.

  Quickly drawing on a dressing gown over her nightdress, she went to the window and opened it-and found herself staring at the sight below. Multicolored lanterns cast a romantic glow over the gardens, while the musicians played softly to one side.

  Directly beneath her window, Dare stood posed on the flagstones, dressed in Elizabethan costume, a rose clenched between this teeth. Romeo, if she wasn't mistaken.

  When he spied her overhead, he offered her the rose with a gallant flourish and bowed deeply.

  "Ah, fair Juliet," he expounded in a passionate stage voice, "come away with me and be my love."

  Julienne was hard-pressed to stifle a laugh at his charming absurdity, but she schooled her features to haughtiness. "I regret, my lord, that I have a great disdain for presumptuous noblemen who mangle Shakespeare. If this is your best effort, I am not impressed."

  His smile was part wolfish and part enticing. "You have yet to see my best efforts. Come down here, my darling, and I will proceed to show you."

  Several of his other houseguests
were leaning out their widows, gaping, Julienne noted, including Solange.

  "You are either dreadfully foxed," she declared tartly, "or you've taken leave of your senses."

  "Both, I should imagine. You intoxicate me and drive me to madness. You are temptation incarnate…"

  He turned his face up to Solange at the next window. "Will you not help me, Madame Brogard? The cruel, fair Juliet is determined to spurn my advances."

  "Wicked man," Solange admonished, her tone laced with delighted amusement. "I should say you are doing well enough on your own. A woman cannot resist roses and moonlight and a handsome chevalier."

  "Alas, it seems Miss Laurent is able to resist me too well." He clasped his hand over his breast. "I vow my heart is breaking."

  Julienne answered this time. "Then I suggest you summon the doctor to patch it up, my lord, and allow me to get some sleep."

  When Dare staggered back as if he'd received a lethal blow, Solange laughed out loud.

  Quelling her own laughter, Julienne shut the window and returned to bed, but she lay there, finding it impossible to sleep.

  The music played on for another half hour at least, and Julienne determinedly resisted the urge to return to the window to see if her Romeo had remained as well. But even as she punched her pillow in frustration, some wistful, foolish part of her wished that Dare's pretense of being her suitor were real.

  The weather turned stormy the next day, and the company was forced to remain indoors. When out of boredom someone suggested they stage an amateur theatrical, Dare scotched the idea, saying there wasn't enough time remaining in the week to do justice to a play and that it wouldn't be fair to the actresses present, since for them, a theatrical resembled work.

  And furthermore, he added laughingly, Miss Laurent disliked the notion of amateurs mangling the words of her beloved playwrights.

  They settled for pantomimes and charades and recitations of poetry. Privately Julienne was grateful to be spared, although being employed might have helped distract her from Dare's proximity.