Free A Daring Passion by Rosemary Rogers Page A

to solve.
    Outlining her full mouth with the tip of his tongue, he slipped between her lips and tasted the decadent wetness within. His breath was squeezed from his lungs. She tasted as sweet and fresh as the lilacs she smelled of. As sweet as spring.
    Just for a moment she stiffened, as if she were about to pull away, and Philippe silently cursed. She was not indifferent to his touch. He was experienced enough to know when a woman returned his desire. She might wish him in hell, but she still wanted him.
    Then, with a faint sigh, she was melting into his arms.
    A shudder shook through him. It was no more than a kiss, but his entire body clenched with pleasure.
    Feeling her grasp at the folds of his greatcoat, Philippe traced his hands up the curve of her spine. She was so delicate. So astonishingly tiny in his hands. It was easy to forget her fragility when she was battling him as if she were as large and intimidating as a dockhand.
    With gentle care he smoothed his hands back down to her hips. His lips shifted to spread light kisses over her cheek before he lightly stroked the shell of her ear with his tongue.
    She shivered beneath his touch and he felt that strange searing heat race through him. A heat that flowed through his entire body, not just the familiar bits and pieces.
    The urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the nearby bed was overwhelming.
    He wanted to see her spread beneath him. To part her thighs and discover the heart of her pleasure. To thrust himself into her until they were both exhausted and sated.
    It was surely what she had been created for?
    His arms had already tightened when he gave a low groan.
    The devil take it, this was not the time to be indulging in such games. No matter how delightful.
    At this moment Carlos was awaiting him in his library, and his brother would be anxiously awaiting word that he had reached London.
    He abruptly lifted his head, gazing down at her upturned face with a brooding intensity.
    In the flickering candlelight her delicate beauty was enough to steal his breath. The golden curls were a shimmering river as they tumbled about her shoulders, her ivory skin was brushed with a faint flush, and her eyes smoldered with the lingering memory of his kiss.
    She looked like a wanton, exotic angel.
    Perhaps in another man it might not be so surprising that he had lost all sense. She was lovely enough to tempt a saint.
    But he was not just any man, he sternly reminded himself. He was Philippe Gautier. A gentleman who had built a fortune on his ruthless ability to never lose sight of his goals.
    Taking a step backward, he sucked in a deep breath. “I have business to tend to. You will remain here until I return,” he said in tones that were more abrupt than he intended.
    She frowned as her fingers rose to touch lips still reddened from his kiss.
    â€œWhat are you going to do with me?”
    His lips twisted as he turned and moved to the door. “That is the question, is it not?”
    Refusing to glance back, Philippe shut the door behind him, and then, taking a chair from the hall, he lodged it beneath the knob.
    He paused in the shadows as his gaze lingered on the door. He knew that she was effectively trapped. There was no way out of the room, and even if she tried to scream there would be no one to hear her.
    Still, he found himself reluctant to leave. As if she might disappear into a puff of smoke the moment she was out of his sight.
    Ridiculous.
    He gave himself a shake as he forced his reluctant feet to carry him toward the main staircase and down to the library.
    As always he found the house in pristine condition. Despite her advancing years Mrs. Hibbert kept his home constantly prepared for even the most unexpected arrival. There was no musty air or Holland coverings to be found. Instead he was greeted with the smell of fresh beeswax and carpets that were freshly beaten.
    It was the sort of loyal service he expected in all his servants.
    Entering the