The prince of pleasure

Chapter Ten

Dare allowed nearly a week to pass, however, before approaching Julienne. He forced himself to keep away for several reasons.

The first and most practical was to let Riddingham think he was winning the beautiful Jewel. Too swift an about-face might raise questions in the viscount's mind and call unwanted attention to his drunken divulgences about his friends and the dead companion.

The second, Dare calculated, was to increase Julienne's eagerness for their next encounter. She had asked to hear the outcome of his interrogation, and delaying his disclosure would only whet her curiosity.

And the last, most critical reason was to give himself time to try to control his obsession with her. The effort, however, had been futile, Dare realized as he sat in his box at the Drury Lane Theater watching the current play, Richard III.

It was a brilliant performance. From the first lines, Edmund Kean's genius shone through as he portrayed the evil Richard, who had murdered his way to a throne and then to his own destruction. But Julienne as Lady Anne was a perfect foil for him as she attempted to avoid Richard's deadly spider's web.

The wooing scene during the mourning procession for the late king was a public match between two wily opponents, a twisted mating dance rife with almost erotic undercurrents.

Dare, like the rest of the audience, sat riveted. The scene took on added meaning because of his own public mating dance with Julienne. He frequently felt himself the focus of probing glances from the bejeweled lords and ladies in the adjoining boxes.

He knew the ending of Shakespeare's play, of course. Lady Anne lost the battle with Richard and her life, poisoned after she had served her turn. But it became stunningly clear to Dare as he watched Julienne's dazzling performance that he was fighting a losing battle himself.

Your beauty was the cause.… Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep.

He'd tried to convince himself that in time he would get over her. But she had crawled under his skin again, damn her.

Nothing could stop him from wanting her constantly, endlessly. Nothing would stop him from pursuing her.

Not even knowing the pain he might suffer in the end.

Dare left the theater immediately after the performance, intending to wait for Julienne at her lodgings. A chill wind whipped around his greatcoat as he stood on the street while his town coach was summoned from the long queue of carriages.

When a footman opened the coach door for him, Dare started to enter. But then he caught sight of a small object resting on the velvet seat, gleaming in the light of the carriage lamps.

A piece of jewelry. A pin, perhaps. Picking it up, he inspected the design. A flower… with stem and leaves of gold and petals made of pearls. A rose?

A dark suspicion struck Dare suddenly. What was it Lucian had said as they'd stood over Alice Watson's bloated body? She wore a rose-shaped pearl broach that was thought to be gift from her lover. Was this the broach that had been torn from the dead girl's collar? And how in hell had it come to be on his carriage seat?

Was it the work of her killer?

Dare's head whipped around, and he searched the crowds milling in the street in front of the theater. A fortnight ago he'd deliberately announced he was hunting a deadly traitor named Caliban. Was this the response?

Was Caliban taunting him by leaving clues? Watching him even now? Was Caliban the girl's killer?

Dare's mouth tightened grimly. It was difficult to believe the two were unrelated.

He intended to question his coachman and footmen, but he doubted he would find any leads as to who had placed the broach here. Caliban was too clever.

This time, however, the treacherous mastermind had overplayed his hand. Caliban might delight in showing his superiority by mocking his opponents and stirring fear in their hearts, Dare thought stonily. But this apparent attempt to intimidate him only strengthened his resolve to find the traitor and bring him to justice.

It was after midnight when a hackney carriage deposited Julienne in front of her lodgings and then rattled off down the mist-shrouded street.

When a dark figure stepped out of the shadows, she gasped and fumbled in her reticule for the small but deadly blade she carried for protection.

"Late night?" Dare asked casually as moonlight illuminated his handsome features.

Julienne put a hand to her heart. "Dare!" Her tone held both relief and vexation. "You frightened ten years off my life!"

"The play has been over for hours."

Frowning, she studied him in the dim light, trying to read his enigmatic expression. "I accepted Riddingham's invitation for supper." When he made no reply, she lowered her voice. "You can hardly object when you yourself asked me to be with him. Moreover, I haven't even seen you in days."

"Did you miss me?"

"No," Julienne lied. "But I expected you to contact me sooner-although not at this hour of the night."

"Will you invite me in?"

Julienne hesitated. "This is a respectable rooming house. The landlady won't look kindly on my entertaining a gentleman caller, especially one of your notoriety."

"She doesn't need to know."

"She is extremely watchful."

"I came to report on my investigation of Riddingham," Dare said when she still wavered, "but if you prefer I left…"

"No," Julienne replied in a rough whisper. "Just please keep your voice down."

"I watched your performance tonight," Dare murmured as he followed her to the front door.

"I know. I saw you." She didn't add that she had scanned the audience each and every night since that first one, searching for Dare's shining gilt hair. Nor did she confess the leap of gladness that had surged through her when she'd spied him tonight, or her disappointment when he never came backstage to the green room.

After using her key to unlock the door, Julienne lit a taper in the entrance hall. Quietly she led him up the dark stairway and down a corridor to the rooms she had rented for the season.

The parlor was chilly, for she preferred to avoid the expense of lighting a fire when she would only be going to bed in a short while. The bedchamber would have coals burning in the grate, though, since she paid the landlady to see to it before her expected return from the theater each night.

Leaving on her cloak, Julienne offered Dare a seat, but he remained standing. As she lit a lamp, his glance took in the sparse furnishings, and he frowned.

"So what happened with Riddingham?" Julienne asked, not wanting to defend her modest dwelling or her decision not to spend her salary on greater luxuries. "Did you discover if his friends knew the companion?"

"Sir Stephen was seen speaking with her at Lady Castlereagh's rout. But there was also a stranger who appeared to claim her interest. I've passed on the information for investigation. With any luck it could put us a step closer to finding Caliban."

"So what now?"

"We continue the hunt."

She gave him a look of exasperation. "Is that all you intend to tell me?"

"That depends on you, Julienne."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been commissioned to offer you a job."

"A job?"

"As a spy for the British government."

Taken aback by his unexpected answer, she stared at him.

"The gentleman," Dare explained, "who heads intelligence in the Foreign Office believes you could be an asset to the country, since you have entree to the emigre community. If you worked for us, you would be required to glean any information you can on the intrigues of the Royalists and pass it on. The government will pay you, of course."

His glance took in the shabby parlor, and she could tell what he was thinking: that she could obviously use the income. She remembered as well that Dare thought her greedy and grasping. No doubt he believed there was little she wouldn't do for money.

Julienne pressed her lips together. "I wonder that your offer comes now," she said coolly. "Is it because I proved my usefulness by helping you with Riddingham?"

"That, and the fact that your actions seem to absolve you of guilt."

"Guilt?"

Dare's green gaze bored into her. "I couldn't be certain of your complicity when I first saw your close association with Riddingham. For all I knew, he was Caliban, and you were in league with him."

Her breath caught at his implication. "You thought I was in league with… You suspected me of treason!"

"The possibility did cross my mind." Dare smiled with a hint of mockery. "This isn't the first time your name has been linked with the Bonapartists."

Julienne felt herself tremble. "Are you speaking of the charges your grandfather laid against me?"

When he remained silent, a raw upwelling of grief and fury coursed through her. Seven years ago she had been the victim of his grandfather's evil machinations, when she had been completely innocent.

She heard her own tone turn icy. "Your grandfather accused me of treason. Did you believe him?"

Dare shrugged, an elegant gesture that told her nothing. "I wasn't sure what to believe then. Given your other lies, I think I would have been justified in assuming the worst about you. And I certainly couldn't trust your loyalties when you might have been Caliban's accomplice."

His response wounded her to the quick, and Julienne lowered her gaze to hide her bitter hurt. She had betrayed Dare, true. And he had a right to despise her for that. But it was one thing to hate her for playing him false with a lover; quite another to consider her guilty of betraying her country.

How could he believe something so despicable of her?

For a moment she stood there shaking, remembering that terrible time seven years ago-the vile rumors that had placed her under suspicion of treason, her defenselessness, her utter inability to refute the charges. Those scurrilous accusations had destroyed her life when she had never done anything to deserve it. When her only crime had been to love Dare.

He had no right to think her guilty! Dare's admission just now was a betrayal in itself. He should have known the allegations were all lies.

Julienne raised her head to glare her anger. "Your grandfather falsified those charges in order to intimidate me. I'm surprised you were taken in by him."

A flash of pain flickered in Dare's eyes before his gaze turned as cool as her own had been. "I was taken in by your wiles, wasn't I? Perhaps I was merely gullible in my youth. Then again, my grandfather could have been right about you."

His retort set rage unfurling inside Julienne. She looked at Dare through a red mist, wanting to strike back at him, yearning to punish him for his lack of faith. "If you think me such a femme fatale, I wonder that you even risk being here alone with me."

"I am better armed than I was seven years ago."

"Are you?" Julienne said, her tone dangerously silken. She would show Dare that he wasn't nearly as well-armed as he thought. "Would you care to put your armor to the test?"

His gaze made a slow sweep of her body. "What did you have in mind?"

In answer, she spun on her heel and opened the door to her bedchamber. Pausing, she glanced back at him, her look filled with challenge. "Are you coming?"

For once, Julienne saw with satisfaction, she had rendered Dare speechless. But he hesitated only a moment before following her.

It was warmer here, she noted. She stirred the coals in the grate to a cheery blaze and then lit a lamp and set it on the mantel. Dare had shut the door behind him and was surveying the drab room's meager furnishings: a narrow bed, a washstand, a wardrobe and dressing table, and a single wooden chair placed near the hearth.

"Take off your clothes," Julienne ordered as she shed her cloak and hung it on a wall peg. When she turned, she found Dare watching her with half-lidded eyes, heat and wariness glittering in their depths.

"Just like that? You expect me to undress with no preliminaries?"

Her smile was at once seductive and scornful. "Are you afraid, Lord Wolverton?"

"With you in this mood?" His mouth curled. "I think perhaps I should be."

"Indeed you should," she taunted with a coy toss of her head.

Her mind told her she was playing with fire, but she refused to back down from her challenge. The anger driving her was too fierce to ignore. She felt like a powder keg on the verge of explosion. She wanted to punish Dare, to hurt him as he had hurt her. She wanted to conquer him.

Thus far she had claimed few victories in their battle, but that would change tonight, Julienne vowed. And she would use her body as her weapon.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, placing her hands on her hips.

He did undress then, albeit more slowly than she would have liked. While she watched, he removed his coat and cravat and draped them over the back of the chair, then drew off his linen shirt. His bare torso gleamed golden in the firelight, rippling with corded muscle.

He sat to remove his pumps and stockings and reached for the front placket of his breeches. Hesitating, he glanced up at her, as though to see if she was watching.

Julienne curved her lips in a half smile and met the dark challenge in his eyes. Unfastening his breeches, Dare stood and slowly peeled them down, revealing the hard, flat contours of his belly… the tantalizing pelt of dark gold hair that swept down to his groin… He eased the satin fabric lower. Freed from constraint, his rampant member jerked upward toward his belly, already flushed and engorged in anticipation.

Julienne's mouth went dry. Despite her determination to remain unmoved, she felt her body respond. But she refused to let Dare know of her weakness.

"I would say you are rather eager for me," she mocked.

"I am always eager for you, cherie," Dare retorted wryly. "That is nothing new."

He drew the garment down farther, exposing the velvety pouch of his heavy testicles, his sinewy thighs and calves. Then he stepped out of his breeches, leaving his lean, powerful body naked.

He was beautiful, Julienne thought in reluctant awe. Lithe and strong and sensual, the focus of all her fantasies. Desire clawed at her, insistent and sharp, as she moved to stand before him, but she tried to hide it with a mocking smile.

Deliberately she ran the tip of her finger along his hard-muscled ribs, over his flat belly to his swollen phallus that seemed to beg her for attention.

Dare's eyes narrowed, but she ignored the danger in his green gaze as she curled her fingers over the silken-steel shaft.

"Shall we see how long you can resist me?" she asked.

"Do your worst," he said with maddening nonchalance.

Oh, I will, Julienne thought darkly. She would break him. She would make him plead with her for mercy…

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, but there was nothing tender about her gesture. Instead she bit at his lips, raking her teeth against his flesh.

She heard his low grunt of surprise as he recognized the primal, dangerous edge to her lovemaking, but other than the tensing of his body, he made no protest.

Still holding his arousal in her hand, Julienne nipped at his jaw, the strong column of his throat, the sleek skin of his shoulder, then moved to his chest, to the flat male nipples. When she bit lightly, he drew a sharp breath. With a faint smile of triumph, she spent a long moment on his nipples, licking and suckling and grazing with her teeth, before gliding on.

When her fiery mouth trailed downward toward his stomach, though, Dare realized her intent and grasped her arms, halting her. "I want you naked first. Unless you're afraid?" he added when she looked up at him.

Her eyes flashed, but she turned silently to present her back for him to unfasten the buttons of her gown. When she faced him again, their gazes locked, two passionate people determined not to give way.

Her mouth curved in a half smile then, and she stripped off her garments slowly, one by one, her movements deliberately provocative.

Her erotic performance held Dare's gaze riveted. He didn't understand the brittle anger that gripped her, the icy disdain, but he fully fathomed the effect her meagerly clad body had on him. Heat burned through him, making his blood pulse with need.

When her tongue slowly licked her lips in carnal invitation, excitement flared through his senses. It was all he could do to feign indifference when Julienne drew her chemise over her head and stood garbed in nothing more than silk stockings held up by strips of ribbon.

Bending, she untied the knots of her garters and rolled the silk down her long slender legs, the ripe, full globes of her breasts dangling like luscious fruit.

Dare felt sweat break out over his skin. God, but he wanted to taste those sweet breasts, to suck on those taut nipples until she was as feverish and aching with need as she had made him.

She stood again, and the sultry, glittering light in her eyes told him clearly she knew how much her nude body captivated him.

Against his will, his gaze traveled the length of her… her flawless bosom, her narrow waist, her rounded hips, the dark curls shielding her feminine mound… Julienne ravished his senses, even as jaded as they were. It was a struggle to keep from reaching out and hauling her into his arms and putting a swift end to her teasing.

But she wasn't done making him suffer, apparently. He watched as she went to her dressing table and withdrew a small coffer, recognizing the contents instantly: sponges and vials of liquid-no doubt vinegar or brandy-to guard against pregnancy. Absurdly he felt a twinge of regret at her making certain she would not conceive his child.

Julienne wet a sponge and made a great show of inserting it between her legs, deep within her feminine passage. Then she let down her hair, shaking her head so that the shining sable mass spilled over her bare shoulders to curl around her naked breasts.

For Dare it was a siren's call. He nearly groaned out loud as all the muscles of his body clenched in torment. Julienne damn well knew what her silken hair did to him, how fiercely it aroused him. Knew that one of his greatest pleasures was the feel of her dragging the soft skeins over his body. He could lie for hours with her torturing him that way.

Dare knew he was vanquished. He might have been strong enough to fight himself, but he couldn't fight Julienne when she was like this, a temptress bent on seduction.

He locked his jaw as he strove for control, but there was no resisting her. Not when she sauntered toward him and reached down to cup the sac of his testicles. Already his cock was lifting and jerking helplessly in response to her skilled caresses.

Her stroking fingertips sent fire racing through him. Dare shut his eyes, but the scent of her heat filled his nostrils.

Leaning closer, she pressed her loins against his cramping erection while rubbing her stiffened nipples against the wall of his chest.

Dare did groan then. He wanted to throw her down on the bed and sink himself into her, but she was in command, a wild creature of fire and moonlight. And he was in thrall to her.

His breath fled as she parted her legs to straddle his thigh and slid her already slick cleft against his leg, grinding down hungrily. His senses reeled, rawly frenzied. His hands tightened on her waist, but she pulled away.

"No," Julienne warned with a taunting glance before she bent to him again.

Her mouth pressed hot, open kisses against his chest, and lower, trailing fire over his muscles. It was almost more than he could bear.

Talons of passion clutched at him, raking him with need. When she knelt before him, he shuddered, anticipating her erotic intentions.

He wasn't mistaken. Delirious sensation ripped through him as she attended him, running her tongue around the head of his shaft… wetting the sensitive tip… blowing a tender, hot breath that aroused him wildly.

His entire body clenched.

And that was before she fastened her lush mouth around him.

"Sweet Christ," Dare ground out harshly.

She showed him no mercy, though. His engorged shaft jutted out blatantly now, throbbing with a relentless ache. Every inch of his skin burned with fever for her. But her tongue and lips and teeth continued their sensual assault, forcing his surrender to the exquisite torment.

Dare gritted his teeth at the incredible onslaught of pleasure. He felt his sanity slipping away as she suckled him, drawing him into a vortex of fire. It was only moments before his rigid control broke.

Grating out her name, he dug his fingers into her shoulders and pulled her upright. Her beguiling mouth was moist and triumphant, but he felt the coiled tension in her body, saw the smoldering flames of desire in her eyes, and knew she was trapped in her need, as he was.

His hands clasping under her buttocks, he lifted her off her feet and spread her thighs, prepared to take her. A charge of bright lightning arced between them as their eyes met.

Dare held her stormy gaze as he slid upward into her molten, silky sweetness with a violent, thrusting need.

The stunning heat of her nearly made him explode. And Julienne's gasping moan told him she was at the point of climax, as did the way she sank her fingers into his hair and arched against him.

Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, he carried her to the bed and fell with her. For a moment they rolled and tussled on the narrow mattress in a duel of desire, the turbulence of their clashing wills only adding to their passion. Julienne had wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and now was bucking and writhing beneath him. Dare felt his own arousal spurred and heightened by her tempestuous hunger.

Fearing he would burst, he covered her mouth in a deep, violent kiss of longing, and she responded just as fiercely, digging her nails into his shoulder blades, her fervor singeing, scalding, searing.

An instant later he felt the violence of her release. Julienne convulsed beneath him in a white-hot eruption, her scream captured by his mouth as he held her surging body down. The feel of her sleek, tight channel clutching around his shaft sent him over the edge. He sheathed himself to the hilt, his own hips jerking in a spasm of completion as savage, unrestrained pleasure washed over him in endless caresses of fire.

For a dozen heartbeats he lay sprawled on top of her, too exhausted to move. Finally, though, he eased his weight off her and gathered her limp body against him.

In the aftermath, Julienne lay wrapped in his arms, enveloped by his sinewy strength, her body boneless but her thoughts in turmoil. Her plan to punish Dare had gone awry; her lonely, yearning flesh had betrayed her, her resolve melting as anger turned to fervent hunger.

It was foolish to have succumbed to her passions, and yet she felt almost cleansed by the release of pent-up fury and hurt after so many years. Their lovemaking had been explosive, but she hadn't wanted careful tenderness from Dare. She'd been wild and wanton-burning for him.

She had relished the fiery tempest. And she cherished more the peace that came afterward. She had missed this desperately, the intimacy of lying with Dare, their bodies entwined. His lips felt so right, his arms felt so right, he felt so right. She could feel his heartbeat like an echo of her own.

And yet he thought her a traitor.

A long moment passed before she could control her resentment, her wrath.

"Despite what you believe of me," she said at last, her voice low and raw, "I would never aid the current regime in France. I hated the Revolutionists for murdering my father and destroying our future, but it was because of Napoleon that we remained destitute. If we had been able to recover even a part of the Folmont lands and fortune, I never would have-" She fell silent, gritting her teeth, knowing it was useless to ponder what-ifs.

"Never what?" Dare prodded, his warm breath brushing her temple.

"I never would have been compelled to prostitute myself."

She felt him go very still. She had shocked him, as she intended.

"What do you mean?" The question held a sharp edge that surprised her.

Can you possibly care? she thought defiantly.

"Your grandfather's allegations caused such a scandal for me that I could no longer show my face in public without creating a scene. I was branded a treacherous whore even by my friends." Anger drove her to continue. "I might have borne it, perhaps, but Maman was devastated. I left town, hoping to spare her. But the income from the shop wouldn't fully support her… And then her disease grew worse. She needed constant care and relief from the pain. So I took a protector to pay her bills."

"A protector?" Dare's voice was a low rasp.

Remembering, Julienne swallowed hard, fighting a sudden rush of ancient grief. "I had no choice. I was all Maman had."

His expression unreadable, Dare rose up on one elbow to stare down at her.

His image swam before her eyes, shimmering with the firelight and her foolish tears. She dashed them away furiously. She would not fall victim to self-pity. And she would not countenance his suspicions.

"I sold my body, Dare, but not my loyalty to this country."

At his intense scrutiny, she looked away, trying to hold fast to her anger; it was her sole defense against him. "I am not for sale! Not inside my soul. And I am not a traitor."

Dare remained silent, recalling when he had first met Julienne, how she had shielded her mother with all the fierceness of a lioness protecting her cub. She had sacrificed far more than most daughters would have, selling her body to sustain her mother's final days. He felt a fierce stab of guilt that she had been brought so low-

Grimly Dare caught himself. He shouldn't feel guilt over what had become of Julienne. If she had never betrayed him with her lover, her mother would have been well cared for. He would have seen to it, even if they hadn't wed. But Julienne never had even given him the chance to make the offer.

"It hurts that you believed your grandfather's lies," she said after a moment.

I hurt, too, he thought. You cut out my heart. But he'd known those particular accusations of the old man's were lies. And he knew Julienne was still enraged by it. He could see the fire in her eyes-a long-burning, powerful anger amid the pain.

"I never believed my grandfather's accusations of treason," he said quietly.

"But you do think me capable of it now."

Dare bit back a sigh. "I admit when I first saw you with Riddingham, I wanted you to be guilty. I was still bitter about your betrayal seven years ago."

And he would never shake that bitterness, Dare reflected, feeling an ache in his chest at what they had lost. He lifted a loose curl from her cheek, brushing it against his lips and inhaling the sweet scent.

This was part of his shattered dream, holding Julienne in his arms, feeling her luscious warmth against him, the silkiness of her skin beneath his hands… He had hungered for this closeness, this intimacy he had known only with her. The solace he craved was always her. He still craved her, not only with his body but with his heart-

Dare shut his eyes. Was it possible, he wondered, that he still loved her? God help him. That kind of weakness could destroy him.

But if he'd thought that making love to Julienne would lessen her hold on him, if he'd hoped to take her body and walk away triumphant, he realized now how gravely mistaken he was. A single violent coupling couldn't quench his passion for her. It might never be quenched.

I'll never be free of you, his heart whispered. You'll haunt me forever.

He could do his damnedest, however, to haunt Julienne in return. He wanted her as hungry and vulnerable as he was.

Deliberately he rested his palm on her breast-and felt her flinch.

At his arousing touch, Julienne drew a sharp breath, recognizing the instantaneous return of sexual desire. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think, to breathe, to want. Dare made her feel desperate with wanting-

In despair she untangled her limbs from his and sat up abruptly.

Behind her she heard Dare's murmur. "We're on the same side, Jewel. We are not enemies."

"It would be easier if we were," she replied in a hoarse voice.

He hesitated. "I don't know about you, but I would rather call a halt to this miserable style of warfare."

"So would I." She exhaled slowly. "If you are serious about wanting me to spy for you… I will do it."

"Willingly?"

Julienne glanced back at him. "That is the only way I can prove my innocence to you, isn't it?"

His lashes lowered, hooding his gaze. "You needn't prove your innocence to me."

"Do I not?" Rising from the bed, she went to the wardrobe and pulled out a wrapper, using it to cover her bare body.

"As I said," Dare remarked, "you will be well paid."

Julienne forced a shrug. "The income will be welcome, but I would have agreed in any case. I want Napoleon defeated as much as you do, perhaps more so." She tied the sash with a jerk. "What do you want me to do?"

"Discover whatever you can from the emigre community. We're especially interested in hints of anti-Royalists plots or rumors about Napoleon sympathizers."

"While you continue to hunt for Caliban?"

"Yes. You will report to me for the time being."

"Very well. You should go now."

It was a dismissal, and to her relief, Dare didn't pretend to misunderstand her. He rose silently to dress.

Julienne moved to stand before the hearth, holding out her hands to ward off her sudden chill.

She would do whatever Dare asked of her, whether it was spying on scheming emigres or helping him find Caliban. She was determined to prove her innocence to him.

And she was even more determined to make the elusive rake fall in love with her again. She would win Dare's total surrender in their battle of seduction, Julienne vowed.

But first she would have to conquer her own emotions. If tonight was any example, she was in danger of having her own sensual weapons turned on her.

She would have to do far better at hardening her feelings and bolstering her heart's defenses if she wanted to survive.