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 of 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."
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