"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.
Fortunately the storms passed quickly, and by the following morning, the sun ended the guests' enforced confinement. That afternoon, most of them elected to play pall-mall-a game where a ball was driven through a ring on a swivel-on the side lawn, but Julienne chose to explore the gardens instead.
There were formal paths delineated by stately flower beds and neatly trimmed boxwood hedges, as well as meandering walks that led through more natural foliage toward a birch wood in the distance.
To her delight, Julienne stumbled upon a small copse-a boxwood thicket really-that secreted a rose garden. Here the foliage had been left artfully wild.
The charming disarray reminded her of the overgrown rose garden where she and Dare had once held their lovers' trysts. It was too early for roses to bloom, but she could almost smell the sweet scent. In one corner sat a stone bench, while the center held a marble statue of entwined lovers.
Julienne sank down on the bench and turned her face up to the sun. For a moment she was nineteen again and painfully, wildly in love… foolishly dreaming of becoming Dare's wife.
She had never expected to be his wife or his lover. When he first arrived in Kent, she had wanted nothing to do with him, for she had no desire to become the prey of the notorious rake. She knew Dare saw her merely as a diversion and a challenge-because she was unimpressed by his title and could hold her own with both him and his haughty cousin.
Certainly she never dreamed he would ask her to become his countess. Under ordinary circumstances there was only one kind of future for a rakish nobleman and a young female shopkeeper-and it did not entail marriage.
She did her utmost to resist Dare, but gradually his outrageous charm and persistence wore her down, and she fell head over slippers in love with him. In retrospect, Julienne could see that her heart hadn't stood a chance once Dare set his sights on her. It was his proposal of marriage, however, that had finally compelled her to believe his professions of love, and to give him her virginity along with her promise to wed him.
Yet all too soon the romantic dreams she had cherished lay splintered and broken at her feet, along with her heart.
From the moment she'd first learned of his grandfather's threat to disown him, she realized she couldn't wed him. She couldn't allow Dare to sacrifice his future for her sake, knowing that he might someday come to rue his rashness, fearing he might hold her to blame…
She shuddered at the agonizing memory and bowed her head, suddenly swept by a wave of loneliness that seemed to flood her very soul.
It was some moments before she regained control of her emotions. She should return to the house, Julienne scolded herself, where she wouldn't be assaulted by bitter memories best left in the past.
When she rose to go, however, she found Dare standing at the entrance of the secluded garden, leaning indolently against the hedge. For an instant, her heart leapt with joy, but she strove to quell it.
His own expression was enigmatic as he nodded toward the wild tangle of rosebushes that covered much of the copse. "I grew rather fond of roses that summer, so I had this planted when I took up residence here."
Her heart wrenched at the thought of Dare wanting some keepsake of their wondrous time together, so she was glad to have her attention diverted by distant exclamations of glee as one of the guests scored.
"I should join the others," she said, glancing toward the garden entrance.
"Fleeing so soon?" Dare drawled as he pushed away from the hedge and sauntered toward her.
"There is no point in our being together. Riddingham isn't here to see."
"But he will know that we're both missing, and his jealousy will be aroused. The more his emotions are engaged, the greater likelihood that he will make a slip and show his hand. Stay a while."
Reluctantly Julienne nodded, but she moved away from Dare, a little farther along the path. Her whole being throbbed with an awareness of him.
Dare took the seat she had vacated. "Is there a reason I find you here alone? You don't care for the entertainment I've provided?"
Julienne shrugged. "I suppose I'm not accustomed to a life of leisure. All your guests do is play."
"That is the general idea of a house party. And I should think you need a holiday, as hard as you work."
"But I enjoy my work."
"What do you find so enjoyable about it? I would have judged you too pragmatic to play make-believe."
The seriousness of his question caught her off guard, but she pursed her lips thoughtfully, willing to give him an honest answer. "It's interesting to delve into a role. To become someone else for a change."
He studied her intently for a long moment. "Escaping into another person's skin?"
"Yes," Julienne answered, surprised by Dare's perceptiveness. Pretending to be someone else banished her demons for a time.
When she didn't expound further, his sober look faded, to be replaced by a deceptively mild one. "If you feel such a need for escape, darling, then I am obviously being remiss as your host. I can see I will have to provide better entertainment for you."
Rising, he begin moving toward her.
"I am not interested in the kind of entertainment you apparently have in mind, Lord Wolverton," Julienne replied, taking a step backward.
His retort held amusement. "Can I help it if this setting makes me crave wicked sex?"
"I suppose not," she said tartly. "?Any setting makes you crave sex."
With a charming, predatory smile, Dare kept advancing. Her heart thudding in her breast, Julienne retreated toward the statue. His very nearness stirred a dangerous spark that flickered along the ends of her nerves, as did his next provocative declaration.
"I would like nothing more than to undress you and lie with you here, Jewel."
"I have told you before, you cannot have everything you want."
His gaze was warm, carnal. "I don't want everything. I only want you."
Julienne halted, her back against the cool marble, yet it was Dare's look that held her immobile; he had trapped her in his heated gaze.
"You won't take pity on me?" he murmured. "I am in dire pain, and only you can offer me respite."
"Dare…" She shivered at the desire that swept over her body at his deliberately alluring gaze.
When he stepped even closer, though, and lowered his mouth to hers, she quickly averted her face. She refused to kiss him. His kisses were far too dangerous, for they seared her, left her panting and breathless.
His lips found her cheek instead, nuzzling.
"Dare, stop this!"
"I think you resist yourself more than me." He slid the tips of his fingers along her nape, while his teeth scraped lightly along the line of her throat, arousing her against her will. His sensuous touch spoke of pleasure beyond imagining, but Julienne fought desperately to resist.
"I won't make love to you again!" she protested, her voice already breathless.
His reply was immediate and husky. "You don't have to do a thing. I can manage on my own. I'll arouse you with just my hands and mouth, my lovely Julienne." His voice was now maddeningly sexual. "I want to see how many times I can make you come."
Even as he spoke, he drew back a little and began unbuttoning the front placket of his breeches. "Look what you've done to me." The ample swell of his manhood sprang free, making her catch her breath. "You've made me burn for you."
Julienne stared at his flagrant erection, at the flushed head gleaming in the sunlight. "Heavens, Dare… are there no limits to your brazenness?"
His smile spread, wicked and lazy. "Scarcely any."
Reaching for her hand, he guided her fingers to his swollen member. She felt his hot desire lick at her senses, but she snatched her hand away. "You must have lost your wits. Someone could come along the path and-"
"You can see far enough above the hedge to have warning. And no one can see me kneeling…"
The hedge was rather high, Julienne acknowledged; they could only be seen from the shoulders up.
Before she could reply, though, Dare went down on one knee before her. "You said you wanted me on my knees. I am delighted to oblige for the moment."
When his fingers grasped the hem of her gown, Julienne realized his intent.
Their gazes locked. It was a contest of wills, one she feared she was losing.
She wanted to step away, but she couldn't force herself to move; the lure of him was too strong. All she could think of was the savage ache between her thighs, an ache only Dare could assuage.
When she remained frozen, he pushed the hem of her gown upward in a slow slide of muslin. Parting her legs slightly, he kissed the inner skin of her thigh, his lips playing fire against her skin.
"Dare…" she rasped.
"Hush. You'll enjoy this, I promise."
Trembling, Julienne found herself unable to fight him. Dare was a supreme expert at making love, an expert at making her feel sensation. The beguiling stroke of his fingers justified his reputation for finesse and raised a throbbing need inside her that built and grew.
His lips traced a molten path upward, his tongue unhurriedly licking the sleek flesh of her thighs. She drew a shaky breath, helplessly caught in the web of her own desires as he raised her gown to her hips, baring her feminine flesh to his gaze. His own searing breath scorched her, and she reached behind her to clutch at the statue.
Her dampness was explicit and pulsing, a fact that Dare noted at once. "I haven't even put my mouth on you and already you are dripping wet," he murmured with satisfaction.
It was true, Julienne admitted. She had only to look at him and she grew wet.
He gently dug his fingers into her thighs and spread them wider, allowing no escape from the sensation of being at his mercy.
"This is your punishment," Dare said in a husky voice. "To burn as I do."
Dazed, she glanced down at his open breeches. His erection thrust prominently upward, rising markedly as her own excitement grew.
With slow deliberation he touched her with his tongue, just caressing the outer rim of her quivering flesh. Julienne was grateful that the statue supported her, for she didn't think she could stand otherwise. Leaning against it, she let her head fall back. Dare knew exactly how to touch her so that she was defenseless, how to cherish her petal-like folds with his strong tongue, how to find her yearning bud of pleasure…
Julienne whimpered as he tantalized her endlessly. She was aroused, past aroused. Then he pressed his mouth right up against her, sucking in a kiss, and her knees went so weak, she practically fell.
His hands framed her buttocks, supporting her, holding her still for his pleasure.
Her breath grew ragged. His mouth was pure magic, tender and demanding. His tongue stabbed deep into her, making her writhe and arch her hips.
It was too much to endure, yet she prayed for him to go on. Wordlessly he obliged, prolonging the building ecstasy.
Her flesh seemed to burn… the heat so fierce she thought she might faint. When her climax ripped through her, he made it last, drawing out the devastating bliss till she sagged limply back against the statue, her eyes shut tightly.
He waited a moment as the pulsing rapture subsided. Then, with one last erotic caress of his lips, he let her gown fall.
Still struggling for breath, Julienne allowed her gaze to drift downward. Dare had wrapped his hand around his erection and was fondling himself, stroking his long, thick phallus as she longed to do.
He glanced up at her, his eyes burning with the passion he made no effort to disguise, his faced flushed with his near-orgasmic state. "If you won't have pity and ease my ache…"
He let the sentence go unfinished as his expression turned to pleasure-pain. She could see his knuckles strain as he squeezed his arousal harder.
A moment later a strangled groan sounded from deep in his throat as the fierce jet of his ejaculation spurted across the tangle of rosebushes. With a deep sigh, he sank back on his heels, his eyes closing.
"A poor substitute for the real thing," he murmured finally, "but it will have to do."
Glancing at Julienne without the least sign of remorse or embarrassment, he withdrew a handkerchief to wipe away the evidence of his burning passion and then fastened his breeches.
"Now I think we may safely return," he said with a very male smile.
The remainder of the house party was nerve-racking for Julienne, since when Dare was near, she could scarcely think for remembering his erotic caresses.
She deplored the sensual power he held over her, yet the emotional turmoil he caused her was even more dangerous. Her soul had been starved for intimacy for years, and she found herself craving the closeness she'd once known with him. Dare was the only man who had ever looked beyond her face and figure to the person she was beneath. The only one who had ever cared about her true thoughts or feelings, who had made her feel cherished as a woman and valued as a friend.
Now, however, he had no interest in her other than to mete out revenge and to slake his physical need and to use her to better observe Riddingham. She was terrified Dare would take ruthless advantage of her vulnerability, leaving her emotions crushed and bludgeoned like before.
When the blow came, though, she wasn't prepared. The day following their passionate interlude in the rose garden, the company took a sightseeing trip to Brighton to view the Marine Parade and the famous Pavilion that the Prince Regent had commissioned to be built. Afterward they enjoyed a late luncheon on the cliffs overlooking the sea.
When the party took a stroll along the cliff path, Julienne found Dare walking beside her.
"You seem quite taken with Riddingham today," he observed in a cool undertone. "Your flirtation with him has reached epic proportions."
She gave him an arch look. Since yesterday she had devoted nearly all her attention to the viscount, for two reasons. First, flirting with him helped her counter the threat of Dare's determined seduction. And second, she hoped to discover something about Riddingham that could be useful in Dare's investigation. If Dare were to unmask the traitor, she theorized, then he might abandon his pursuit of her, and she could have him out of her life for good.
"I am merely staying in character," she claimed, not wholly truthfully. "I promised you I would maintain our charade, remember?"
"So you did." His mouth curled, while his tone was mockingly congenial. "I'm gratified at least that you didn't go running to Riddingham to warn him of my suspicions."
She felt herself stiffen. "Did you truly think I would?"
"Let's say I wasn't certain I could trust you, any more than you feel you can trust me. But you are doing an admirable job of rousing his lust."
"You cannot possibly be jealous," Julienne returned with sugary sweetness.
The dark flare that suddenly kindled in Dare's eyes told her she had struck a nerve with her accusation. "A primitive male instinct, jealousy. One I will endeavor to contain for the sake of duty. I want very much for you to encourage Riddingham's infatuation. He is more prone to share his secrets with you if he's enamored of you."
"Presuming he has secrets to share."
"You are in an excellent position to discover that. He's eager to become your cicisbeo, and you could easily oblige him."
Julienne gave Dare a sharp glance. "And just what do you mean by that? You aren't suggesting I take him as my paramour?"
"The thought had occurred to me."
She nearly stumbled as she stared up at Dare. "You want me to whore for you?"
"Why not?" His eyebrow rose cynically, although there was an intentness in his probing gaze that was far from sanguine. "It shouldn't offend your sensibilities. After all, you have extensive experience seducing unsuspecting gentlemen."
Struggling to hide her hurt, Julienne regarded Dare without expression. "I believe I've told you before, I will choose whom I take to my bed, not you or anyone else."
A wintery smile touched his lips. "I'm prepared to make it financially worth your while. You could be a wealthy woman if you play your cards wisely."
Pain sliced through Julienne like a knife blade, making her breath hiss through her teeth. For a moment she couldn't even speak.
But then she summoned her finest acting skills and offered Dare a reckless smile. "Perhaps I will indeed take Riddingham as my paramour. I have no doubt he will make a considerate lover… unlike some other gentlemen I could choose."
She saw the sharp glitter of emotion that flickered in Dare's eyes-pain? anger?-and knew she had scored a hit.
Ignoring his searing look, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "On second thought, I don't believe I will. If I were to take Riddingham for my lover, he would doubtless expect me to abandon my wager with you, and I have no intention of losing to you. Lord Wolverton."
Julienne left Dare then and surged ahead on the path, vehemently determined to conceal her own pain and anger. She managed it temporarily, but by the time she caught up with Solange, she was nearly blind with hurt. She could scarcely believe how violently she was trembling.
She shook her head at her friend's questioning glance and struggled for the appearance of composure, yet it required all her talent to pretend that Dare's suggestion hadn't wounded her to the core.
He thought her a whore. And the worst part was, she couldn't refute him.
Julienne shivered, feeling a sudden chill that went bone-deep.
She was glad when the afternoon at last ended and she could take refuge in her bedchamber. Collapsing on the bed, she buried her face in a pillow and gave vent to her anguished thoughts.
She had been a whore for a time. Shortly after her life had been rocked by scandal and she'd taken up acting to survive, her mother's illness had grown hopelessly severe. To provide for Maman's care, Julienne had had no choice but to augment her meager income by becoming the mistress of a wealthy lord.
The first time she gave her body for money, she'd wept agonizing tears. But afterward, she stoically shut off her emotions, determined to endure. It had helped that her protector was a kind, elderly, gentleman whose compassion and consideration won her respect and genuine affection. Yet there had been times during those difficult years when living hurt so badly she'd wanted to die.
Remembering, Julienne felt an aching rush in her chest, as if her heart were bleeding. She had forced herself to go on because her mother needed her. In sheer self-preservation, though, she had escaped into a role she had created for herself-a worldly, sophisticated actress who bore misfortune by laughing in the teeth of fate. And in so doing, she'd discovered reserves of strength she never knew she possessed.
After her mother died, she was thankfully no longer forced to sell herself to raise desperately needed funds. Yet sometimes she couldn't help feeling bitterness for having been condemned to a harsh life with little chance for a respectable future.
Fighting back scalding tears, Julienne rolled over to stare up at the ceiling overhead. She might likely never have the things many women took for granted- husband, home, children… love. Certainly she would never feel for anyone else the same ardor she had felt for Dare. The desire she still felt for him.
She had tried once. Two years after her mother's death she had taken a lover on her own terms-another actor. His sweet passion had satisfied her physically, but he had never aroused in her the kind of hot, intense, overwhelming hunger she'd known with Dare. And the intimacy was missing. She had hungered for the emotional closeness that went beyond sex, the tender fulfillment that transcended the corporeal.
She had eventually broken off the affair, unwilling to settle for less. Carnal love, she had discovered, couldn't relieve true loneliness of the soul or quench the need for real love, and she would no longer attempt to manufacture a substitute.
She had kept her heart and her bed empty ever since, and even found a measure of peace with her decision. Yet she had sworn that never again would she be compelled to endure a protector. That was why she was so determined to earn a substantial income from her acting: so she would never have to prostitute herself again. So she could have the independence that only wealth could provide. With enough money she would be free to make her own choices.
But now Dare had offered to pay her to whore for him. Pain lashed at her again at the memory.
Fiercely Julienne dashed away the streaks of wetness on her cheeks, reminding herself that Dare was nothing more than a self-serving, licentious rakehell. And in one respect, she was glad he had made his hurtful suggestion, for it helped her renew her resolve.
She intended to win their damned wager. If it took her last breath, she would have his heart on a platter.
Dare was so certain he would conquer her, but she would show him otherwise. If he wanted a war of wills, she would give him one.
She had to, simply to protect herself. She would summon all her powers of seduction to gain mastery over him… She would wait until he declared his love publicly and handed her the victory. Then she would crush his heart beneath her heel without a qualm.
Only then would their hurtful charade come to an end and she could put Dare out of her life forever.
She would finally be free of him. And that was what she desperately wanted.
Wasn't it?