Dare felt a stab of annoyance at her dismissal, but he decided that harping on the subject would only make him seem a spoiled child. "How did you happen to become an actress?" he asked instead.
"Some of us are required to work for a living, my lord."
"You couldn't persuade Ivers to keep you?"
A fleeting look of desolation entered her eyes, but that momentary fragility faded as quickly as it had come. "He offered," she responded without inflection, "but I chose not to accept."
Dare wondered if Julienne was telling the truth- if she had refused the earl's offer because his pockets weren't overly full-or if Ivers had abandoned her because their scheme for gaining the Wolverton fortune had failed. "He couldn't provide you enough compensation?"
Her faint laugh held little mirth. "Indeed, he couldn't. His gaming debts had severely depleted his purse. And I needed a reliable income to support my mother. Her illness grew worse as summer ended."
"What of your shop? Didn't that produce an adequate enough income?" Dare asked, remembering their familiar arguments that summer.
Julienne had claimed that the millinery was her sole means of income and that until their marriage was settled, she couldn't afford to neglect it. Dare had offered to purchase the shop and turn it over to her clerk so she wouldn't be obliged to earn her living, but Julienne had refused, saying she wouldn't take his charity or become his kept mistress-which was why they had gone to such lengths to keep their trysts private. Later, he'd realized she had simply been holding out until she could secure his entire fortune.
When her reply came, however, it surprised him.
"The business did not fare well after…" Julienne lifted her gaze almost defiantly. "Your grandfather made several unfounded allegations against me. I left Kent to avoid the scandal and turned the shop over to our clerk."
Dare's frown deepened as he thought back to those wretched weeks after Julienne's betrayal. He hadn't known what happened to her. He hadn't wanted to know. He'd left Kent immediately and had never again returned to Whitstable. Nor had he ever set foot in Wolverton Hall until his grandfather was dead and buried.
But he shouldn't be feeling this sharp prick of guilt now. Julienne had brought her troubles on herself with her duplicity and lies.
"And your mother?" he asked at length.
"She died several years ago." Julienne's eyes shadowed in sad remembrance. "I wanted her to live with me in York, but Maman wouldn't hear of moving elsewhere. She disliked leaving all her friends."
Dare nodded, remembering the close-knit community of French emigres in Whitstable. When the Laurents had fled the terror of the guillotine, they'd settled on the northeastern shore of Kent, near the bustling resort towns of Marsgate and Ramsgate, where they could enjoy the company of other exiled French nobles.
"She refused," Julienne added softly, "to be driven from her home once again."
As she had been during the Revolution, Dare completed the thought. An unexpected wave of tenderness took him by surprise, but he drew back from it abruptly, wary of leaving himself too vulnerable.
"I am sorry," he said with cursory politeness.
Julienne's gaze searched his face, holding an edge of doubt. "Thank you."
He reached for his wineglass and drained the last swallows. "I wasn't sorry when my grandfather died, though. The old bastard held on until just last year."
Julienne looked abruptly away, but not before Dare saw the hot glitter in her eyes. It was raw, naked hatred, he realized.
He hadn't expected her to share his venomous sentiments toward the late marquess. But perhaps she blamed his grandfather for ruining her life. It was certainly true that if not for the old man's threat to disinherit him, Julienne's future might have turned out very differently. His own as well, Dare reflected. He would have wed her, never suspecting her true nature until it was too late.
"You have evidently done well for yourself since then," he said finally. "But there are easier ways to earn a living than acting. I presume you are not planning to tread the boards forever?"
"No, not forever."
"Is that why you intend to take a protector? To raise your income?"
Her smile seemed forced, although her tone remained light. "You may have compelled me to have supper with you, my lord, but I don't believe I agreed to submit to an interrogation."
"When you make your choice, I very much want it to be me."
"Unfortunately," she said sweetly, "you cannot always have everything you want. You have had everyone bowing and scraping before you since the day you were born, and it has obviously given you an exaggerated estimation of your self-worth."
"I know my financial worth, at least. And I am prepared to be extremely generous. I'll triple your usual remuneration. What is it you want? House, carriage, jewelry, allowance?"
Her eyes kindled with amusement. "I am not for sale, Lord Wolverton. I will be no man's plaything, most especially not yours. If I take a protector, I assure you, it will not be you."
"I wonder what it will take for you to change your mind?"
"I wonder why you are so set on having me, after our distasteful past? Revenge is a petty motive, after all. I should think you would consider it beneath you."
"I'm not interested in revenge," he replied with less than total honesty. "I'm merely intrigued by the thrill of the chase."
"You mean to say that you are utterly bored with your indolent life and you require me to provide your entertainment?"
"Perhaps. I admit, I have never known a moment's boredom with you, Jewel."
"Only because I am able to resist you."
"But for how long?" He gave her his most charming smile. "I will contrive to forgive you for your stubbornness, love, but you are only postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later I'll have you again." Intentionally he glanced at the curtained alcove. "It might as well be tonight. Why waste this ideal setting?"
Humor tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I will not go to bed with you, Dare."
"Who needs a bed? Before the fireplace there will do quite nicely. You would look luscious spread out on a sable fur, completely nude."
He heard her sharp intake of breath at his deliberate provocation. Reaching out, he lifted a curling tress from her breast. Her hair was glorious, rich and vibrant in color, thick and silky to the touch. The softness and fragrant scent teased him as he brought it to his lips.
Stiffening, Julienne drew back and raised an eyebrow.
Assuming a look of pure innocence, Dare surveyed her. "Rumor has it that you are cold-blooded as a lover, but I know differently. I know what a pretense that icy facade is, Jewel. I know how hot you can get… How hot I can make you. How a single stroke of my fingers across your stomach makes you quiver. One touch of your delicious sex and you grow wet."
With a graceful shrug, she returned an arch smile. "I told you, I am not the same green girl I was. It takes a great deal more to arouse me now."
Heat coursed through Dare at her words, at the implied challenge. He couldn't say the same; it had taken very little to arouse him tonight.
He hadn't expected to make love to her this evening. Merely to stake his claim. But he should have known the effect Julienne would have on him. How inflamed he would become by their duel of wills. The exhilaration of matching wits with her again was a stronger aphrodisiac than any drug. And the temptation to do more than provoke her was overwhelming. In truth, he had visions of throwing her down on the table, tearing her clothes off, and tasting that body he'd yearned for so much, so long ago.
His jaw clenched against the hot flood of arousal that the image induced. He couldn't remember ever hurting this much for a woman, or wanting one more. And he doubted Julienne was as indifferent as she pretended. He recognized her sexual response with a connoisseur's eye.
"Shall we put your resistance to the test?" he asked softly.
With effort Julienne met his gaze, her feelings a confusion of wanting and not wanting. It unsettled her deeply, Dare's arrogant presumption of victory. Unsettled and vexed her.
But he would not win, she promised silently. She would not make his revenge easy, letting him ride roughshod over her. She would do everything in her power to protect herself from his calculating schemes. If forced to, she would call upon a few seductive skills of her own to defend herself.
Measuring Dare, she took a sip of wine, wondering if she could hope for any better outcome. It would be supremely satisfying to beat the Prince of Pleasure at his own game-to make him fall in love with her and break his heart, as she'd publicly vowed. Regrettably, though, she didn't hold any faith in her ability to carry out her part of the wager. Dare North had long been immune to female schemes to ensnare his heart.
But if he meant to torment her, she would show him that she was his match. She was an actress. She could play the role of a femme fatale.
She wouldn't let it get out of hand, of course. She would merely arouse Dare's lust and leave him panting for more. And when she walked away dispassionately, he would begin to understand that she would never be his conquest.
Relieved to have made a decision that would allow her to take the offensive, Julienne let a tempting smile wreathe her lips. "Why not?"
She saw the instant flare of heat in his eyes and hoped that she wasn't making an irrevocable mistake.
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