The Princess and the Diamonds

by Lila DiPasqua

  Last eve, she’d shoved the pouch of diamonds under her mattress and had tossed and turned all night, worried about just how much of a problem he was going to be, about what would happen to Daniel if she didn’t succeed in winning back the money he’d lost.

  About losing the diamonds in the game if her luck turned on her.

  Now, it was almost suppertime, and she was exhausted.

  Caroline closed her book as well. Setting it on her lap, she rested her hands on it. “Are you quite certain you still have all twenty diamonds?”

  “Yes, don’t worry. I counted them before putting them in a safe place.” Gabrielle tried to sound reassuring despite the numerous doubts assailing her. But she kept her doubts to herself. Though Caroline and Bernadette were her closest companions, there was much she didn’t share with them. In truth, there wasn’t anyone she completely confided in.

  After she lost her mother and Daniel, her heart broke. Left at the palace with no one to protect her, no one to trust until Caroline and Bernadette came along, she learned to cope by holding her tongue, distancing herself from everything. Detaching from everyone at court.

  The backstabbing and jostling between her half sisters, between the courtiers—all for the sake of gaining the King’s favor—no longer affected her. She’d taught herself not to react to it. Not to trust easily.

  In a world where she had little control over her destiny, she could at the very least control how things impacted her.

  No one at court could hurt her—because she simply didn’t care. And there had been many who had tried to hurt her in the eyes of the King.

  She, unlike her half sisters, didn’t vie for her father’s attention. She didn’t waste a moment’s thought about whom the King would select as her husband.

  He wouldn’t matter to her either.

  Only Daniel, Bernadette and Caroline mattered, and even they were kept at a certain arm’s length.

  “You know, at first I was quite agitated over your plan,” Bernadette said. “But now, I must say, I do believe you are going to succeed.” She smiled.

  Gabrielle maintained hers, hoping it looked genuine. “Thank you, Bernadette.”

  “And you didn’t encounter any real problems?” Caroline asked.

  How she wished Caroline would leave the matter alone. The questions about last night added to her fatigue. “I’ve already mentioned, Caroline, that I encountered a small problem. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  “Yes, but you won’t say how small or what the problem was,” Caroline pressed.

  “It was small. Nothing for you to worry about. Now then, let’s return to our reading, shall we?” As she opened the volume to where she’d left off, hoping to lose herself in its prose, she stared blankly at the page, her anxieties about the Basset game on Saturday welling up inside her again.

  She simply had to attend. There was no choice in the matter.

  Just then, an argument drifted up the hallway and into the study snatching Gabrielle from her thoughts. Glancing up from her book, she noted the dismayed expressions on her companions’ faces as the voice of the majordomo eclipsed another male voice. Gabrielle rose and dropped her book on her chair, intent on investigating the disturbance, when the meddlesome man from last night strode—bold as could be—into the room.

  Her stomach dropped.

  She couldn’t believe he was here. She couldn’t believe how good he looked. She didn’t think it was possible, but he looked even better than he did last eve. In the bright light of her uncle’s study, with its many wall sconces and candelabras aglow, his striking male features were illuminated.

  And devastating to behold.

  His magnificent height, his broad shoulders, his . . . Oh God . . . gray eyes, no, they were more than gray. They were a stunning light silver color that set her insides aquiver.

  He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he made eye contact with her.

  “Monsieur!” The majordomo came running into the room. “My orders are that no guests are permitted—”

  Gabrielle cleared her throat, uncertain she could speak without her voice quavering while the darkly handsome—utterly impertinent—stranger moved his gaze over her, his tactile perusal irking her as much as it was inflaming her. And that irked her further still.

  “It’s all right, Aubert,” she said to the servant. With a nod, the majordomo bowed and left the study.

  He found you! She cursed her luck. And here she thought it was still on her side. The entire ride home, she’d checked repeatedly to see if they were being followed.

  There had been no sign of him.

  He was far cleverer than she’d given him credit for. Damn him. And his physical allure.

  “You look better in this attire than the one you had on last night,” he said with a hint of a smile on his gorgeous mouth.

  Caroline and Bernadette moved close to her.

  Placing a hand on her arm, Caroline asked sotto voce, “Is this the ‘small problem’ you mentioned earlier?”

  “Good Lord, there’s nothing small about the man,” Bernadette whispered, eyeing him.

  Gabrielle took a deep breath and let it out slowly, striving for a level of composure she didn’t feel inside. Dealing with the intrusive male in her study was more than enough, without her friends adding to the challenge. “Enough. Not another word from either of you.” Her voice was soft but firm. She didn’t want them giving this man any information about her or them. “Ladies, please excuse us. I have a word or two to say to our visitor,” she remarked louder, holding his gaze firmly.

  “Alone? In private?” Caroline asked, her unease tingeing her tone.

  “Yes. Please leave now.” Out of the corner of her eye, Gabrielle saw her two friends exchange concerned looks, but without further ado, they dropped their gazes as they passed the man standing in the room, and exited the study, closing the door quietly behind them.

  “How did you find me?” She didn’t waste a moment’s time getting to the point.

  He cocked his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his brow, looking ever so appealing. “I followed you.”

  “Why? What on earth are you doing here?”

  “I felt a visit was in order.”

  Her brows shot up. “A visit? Are you entirely well in the mind? What about our encounter would have made you think I would want a visit from you?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He approached, stopping before her. Towering over her. Yet she refused to step back, or do anything to indicate in any way she was unsettled by him.

  “You asked what I was doing here and I responded. You never asked if I thought you’d like a visit from me.”

  Her ire mounted by the moment—thanks to his unmitigated gall, the smug look in those light-colored eyes.

  And his wonderful scent.

  Though she couldn’t quite describe it, it was tantalizing in the extreme. She actually had the maddening urge to lean in and inhale deeply.

  “The point to you being here is?” she pressed. Dear God, how she wanted him to leave. She didn’t know what to make of his unprecedented effect on her. Or how to control it.

  He was making her feel dread, and heaven help her . . . desire. Seducing her senses in a way no other man ever had.

  She wasn’t at all like some of her half sisters. She wasn’t the type of woman who became giddy over a handsome face.

  “First, allow me to properly introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Mathias de Tesson, Marquis de Montfort. And you are?”

  She simply glared back at him.

  He lifted a brow. “Not going to answer?”

  Damned pushy man. “No.”

  “Fine. Then I shall tell you what I know.” He folded his hands behind his back and slowly strolled around her. “I know who owns this townhouse, the Marquis de Gaillard. I know he’s got quite a reputation when it comes to keeping mistresses. He maintains a number of them at any given time. His favorite is with him at his château as
we speak.” He stopped behind her. His body was so close to hers. A luscious heat emanated from him, inciting a quickening low in her belly. He leaned in, his mouth all but touching her ear. “This very townhouse is one he offered to a former mistress, one whom he’s since tired of,” he said softly, his warm breath caressing her skin, sending a ripple of heat down her spine. She barely held back the shiver. “You have a wealthy benefactor. You don’t need the coin. Or to venture out in the middle of the night as you did to play Basset. Why were you there last eve—dressed as a man?”

  Gabrielle didn’t respond. She was working too hard at keeping her breathing even. The information about her philandering uncle wasn’t new. Her reactions to this man were. Her nipples were hard. Her senses were awake and highly attuned to him. Reacting to any and every small thing he did.

  “Still no answer?” This time his lips brushed her ear. She jumped and spun around. His slight touch shot a bolt of sensations right down to her feminine core. Startling her.

  “This may come as a complete shock to you, given your staggering audacity, but I owe you no explanations or answers,” she tried saying with finality, but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded; the light throbbing between her legs was a horrible distraction.

  Her treacherous body was behaving in the unruliest way.

  “Are you going to be there on Saturday?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the wrong answer. Stay home.”

  “No.” She uttered the word firmly. Could he tell the frenzy he’d caused inside her?

  “I could tell the Duc about you, you know. That you are a woman.”

  The last thing she needed was to pique anyone else’s interest, but she didn’t cave in to threats. Others had tried to coerce her at court.

  With no success.

  Gabrielle collected herself and schooled her features. Affecting her usual blasé tone, she said, “Do you think he’d care? I don’t. I got the distinct impression his only concern was recouping his losses and perhaps winning some coin from me.”

  She’d done it. She’d successfully countered his threat and taken the life out of it. It was visible on his face.

  He sighed and rested his hands on his hips. “Look, believe it or not, I came here because I am trying to help you.”

  That inspired a laugh. “Help me? I won a considerable sum last night, while you lost half your winnings. What help do I need from you?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “You and I both know why you’re here. Clearly you’ve nothing better to do with your time than to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. And when you learned who owned this home, you of course thought, ‘poor lonely mistress, so neglected by her lover.’ Naturally she would eagerly allow you a tumble. Isn’t that so?”

  She was livid—with herself for reacting so strongly to someone who was of no importance to her. And for not putting on a convincing enough performance last night. Though she didn’t think she’d failed miserably at behaving like a male, having this man see through her disguise clearly proved otherwise.

  The only thing that gave her any pleasure was that he was so far off course with his belief that she was the Marquis de Gaillard’s mistress.

  He stepped close to her. She stepped back, something she hadn’t meant to do, a knee-jerk reaction on her part that made her want to kick herself. It showed weakness.

  He advanced another step and slipped his fingers under her chin. She couldn’t back away this time, even if she wanted to. She’d backed up against the tall marble table in the room.

  “If you’re asking if I want you, the answer is yes. I won’t deny it. What man wouldn’t want you? In fact, if truth be told, I spent all last night thinking about tasting every inch of your edible form.” Her sex clenched.

  He leaned in, his solid body pressing so delectably against hers. She leaned back away from the lure of his mouth and gripped the edge of the table. “Can you feel how hard you make me? What you do to me?”

  Her heart pounded. How could anyone possibly miss that? The stiff bulge inside his breeches pressed against her belly and made the bud between her legs throb harder.

  “I see what I do to you, too, beautiful Snow Princess.”

  At the word “princess,” she flinched.

  He didn’t seem to notice and continued. “So very alluring, yet with a haughty veneer. I see through that icy exterior of yours,” he said. “I see a beautiful, naturally sensuous woman. I see the way her body reacts to me. You know as well as I do any carnal encounter between us would be heated, delicious, and intense.”

  No one had ever spoken to her like this. Other men had made comments about her physical appeal. She’d always dismissed them as empty compliments, as the flattery was only offered in front of the King. She should have done the same with what Mathias was saying, but instead, the look in his eyes, the low timbre of his voice, and his hot hard body pressed against hers made it impossible.

  And thrilling.

  She swallowed twice before she could say, “St-step back, please.”

  To her surprise, he complied, promptly. She suddenly found him a good two feet from her, his hands back on his hips.

  She hadn’t expected immediate compliance. Though she didn’t think he’d force himself on her, she thought she’d have to insist.

  He was forever doing the unexpected.

  To her chagrin, without the heat and press of his body against hers, she actually felt bereft.

  “If you’re not going to tell me anything about yourself, tell me your name.” The most gorgeous, smile appeared on his face. “Then I’ll at least have a name to put to the woman I’ve been fantasizing about.”

  Thankfully, he hasn’t been able to learn your identity. But then again, who would, or could tell him? No one knew she was here, except her uncle, and he was presently a distance away. She was careful not to venture out into the city where she might be recognized, unless in disguise. And then there were the servants. Her uncle paid them well. They knew to hold their tongues or lose their employment.

  Gabrielle decided to change tactics. Holding her silence was only fueling his curiosity about her. She’d toss him a bone.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “Silvie,” slipped past her lips. It was the first name that entered her mind and the very last one she should have offered him. She mentally chastised herself for choosing that name. Of her many given names, that was the one her mother, Daniel, and at times even Bernadette and Caroline called her. Only those closest to her used it.

  But never in the presence of the King. His Majesty didn’t care for it.

  “Silvie?” He said her name with a weighty skepticism, as though he didn’t believe her. “Silvie what?”

  Fool, now that you’ve offered the name, you can’t exactly change it, can you? “Just Silvie.”

  “All right, just Silvie, what were you doing at the gaming den, dressed as a man?”

  “I was doing what everyone else was doing at the gaming den. Playing Basset. I like the thrill of the game. It’s exciting. And I dressed the way I dressed because I didn’t want anyone to recognize me, obviously.” She sharpened her tone, hoping he’d tire of her coarseness and leave her be.

  “I don’t believe you, Silvie. There is much more to all this than you are saying.” He stepped close again but this time he gently cupped her cheek. “There is more to you than you allow others to see. Behind the tall thick wall where you conceal yourself is the real woman. One I’d very much like to know.”

  No man had ever dared touch her the way this man did. Worse, she liked the way he was touching her. The way his body had felt against hers. Too much.

  “Please heed my warning, beautiful Silvie. Don’t go to Navers’s gaming den on Saturday. For if you do, there will be consequences you don’t wish to face.”

  He stepped back, kissed her hand, then bade her a good night, and walked out of the room, leaving her body heated, trembling from the inside out, and her mind spinning from his ominous parting wo
rds.

  *****

  “Where have you been?” Valette rose from his chair in Mathias’s library. He’d just returned home, only to be informed by his majordomo that the sergeant was here and had insisted on waiting for his return.

  The man irked him. There was nothing he liked about the single-minded civil servant.

  “I don’t believe I owe you a moment-by-moment accounting of my time. Do remember your place.” He didn’t normally stand on ceremony, but this man had the most boorish manners.

  Mathias’s senior by at least five ten years, Valette had small dark eyes and a long nose that reminded him of a rodent.

  “We are supposed to be working on the Duc’s private gambling den together,” Valette said.

  “No, I’m supposed to be working on it. You’re supposed to be assisting.”

  “Yes, well, there were twenty men there last night. You’ve only given me the names of seven. We’ll need the rest.”

  There were nineteen men there last night—and one very beautiful, very obstinate woman.

  “I’m to be reporting on the goings on,” Mathias corrected him. “I’ve already indicated how the Duc is advancing funds to those whose luck has turned, keeping them in the game, driving up their debt and taking lands, horses, anything of value from them, assisting them all the way to their ruin.”

  “Yes. True.” Valette scratched his head. “That has already been reported back to the Lieutenant General of Police. However, as pleased as he is with the information you’ve provided thus far, he needs to know who attends the games.”

  “Not everyone. Just the regulars. That is my objective.”

  He wished he knew why Silvie, if that was even her real name, showed up at the Duc’s Basset table. The reason was much more involved than she wanted to admit.

  She was being secretive. Merde. The more she withheld, the more she spiked his interest. He could tell there were many layers to this fascinating woman. He wanted to peel them all away. He was too intrigued by her, and he wanted her too damned much. The Marquis de Gaillard was a colossal fool to have abandoned this particular mistress.

  He didn’t deserve her.

  Clearly, he didn’t favor her, and Mathias had no qualms poaching. But Silvie would require a slow seduction. Something he was not used to.