startled cry of protest that sounded in her throat, and with quick, efficient thrusts, won his way past the barrier of her lips and sent his tongue plunging hotly into her mouth, swirling to the deepest recesses, laying waste to any and all perceptions she may have had as to what a kiss entailed. It was more an invasion than a caress, and when it ended, when he withdrew the heat and the bold, lashing wetness, she continued to gape up at him, her mouth open, her lips feeling blushed and bruised, and, to her profound disbelief, craving more.
“You would do well to heed a small piece of advice, mam’selle,” he said in a silky murmur. “I am neither a saint nor a savior, and any youthful inclinations I may have had toward monkhood are well and far behind me. Do not tempt me with more than you are prepared to give. Or lose.”
He released her as suddenly as he had taken her captive. “How was Roth planning to spring his trap?”
The rapid change in subject and in his demeanor left her stammering. “I—I do not know the d—details, m’sieur, he did not tell me. This is the truth, I swear it. But,” she added on a faintly guilty note, “he knows I am to meet you again in three days’ time.”
He considered this a moment before asking. “You do realize what will happen to you if Roth finds out you are planning to double-cross him?”
“I am aware of the colonel’s temper.”
“His temper? Mam’selle, you have not yet seen his temper. You have seen his greed and deviousness, perhaps, but you have not had but a sampling of his predilection for cruelty and violence. If I were you, I would endeavor to avoid being caught alone with him again. You were lucky tonight, for he has a rather unsavory reputation where women are concerned … both the willing and the unwilling kind.”
Renée’s lips were still wet and tingling from his assault as she twisted them into a wry smile. “More so than yours, m’sieur?”
“I have never forced a woman to do anything she did not want to do,” he countered smoothly. “I may have had to rise to a challenge a time or two, but I have never forced my attentions where they were not wanted. And certainly not in any manner”—his fingers brushed gently over the angry red marks that striated her throat—“that might bruise something so … delicate.”
Renée’s eyes widened. “You were there? You saw what he did?”
“Let’s just say your Mr. Finn’s filibuster with the candlestick came half a moment before my own. And I would not have stopped at merely knocking the bastard out cold.”
Renée thought back, but her memory of the darkened hallway was vague at best, blurred by pain and fear. If he had been concealed in the shadows, watching, she had not seen him, although the greater irony might be that Roth had been standing less than a few feet from his quarry and not known it.
“If you saw what happened, m’sieur, then you must know I am not his willing associate.”
“By the same token, I’m certain you can appreciate that I will still have to give your request some thought. Roth is a clever bastard. Stupid in some ways, but”—his gaze rested briefly on her lips—“very clever in others. We will meet again, as planned, in three days’ time, and I will give you my decision then.”
“But Roth knows where we are to meet. Will he not send his soldiers there to try to catch you?”
“I would be extremely surprised if he did not.”
He dismissed the concern so casually, she was dumbfounded for the moment or two it took her to realize he had returned to the window. “You are leaving?”
He swung open the pane and glanced over his shoulder. She had spun around and was standing in the full beam of moonlight, her face and body awash in its luminescence.
“Mam’selle,” he warned her quietly, “if I were to stay any longer, it would not be for the purpose of talking.”
She swayed slightly at the flagrant implication behind his words and clasped her
“You would do well to heed a small piece of advice, mam’selle,” he said in a silky murmur. “I am neither a saint nor a savior, and any youthful inclinations I may have had toward monkhood are well and far behind me. Do not tempt me with more than you are prepared to give. Or lose.”
He released her as suddenly as he had taken her captive. “How was Roth planning to spring his trap?”
The rapid change in subject and in his demeanor left her stammering. “I—I do not know the d—details, m’sieur, he did not tell me. This is the truth, I swear it. But,” she added on a faintly guilty note, “he knows I am to meet you again in three days’ time.”
He considered this a moment before asking. “You do realize what will happen to you if Roth finds out you are planning to double-cross him?”
“I am aware of the colonel’s temper.”
“His temper? Mam’selle, you have not yet seen his temper. You have seen his greed and deviousness, perhaps, but you have not had but a sampling of his predilection for cruelty and violence. If I were you, I would endeavor to avoid being caught alone with him again. You were lucky tonight, for he has a rather unsavory reputation where women are concerned … both the willing and the unwilling kind.”
Renée’s lips were still wet and tingling from his assault as she twisted them into a wry smile. “More so than yours, m’sieur?”
“I have never forced a woman to do anything she did not want to do,” he countered smoothly. “I may have had to rise to a challenge a time or two, but I have never forced my attentions where they were not wanted. And certainly not in any manner”—his fingers brushed gently over the angry red marks that striated her throat—“that might bruise something so … delicate.”
Renée’s eyes widened. “You were there? You saw what he did?”
“Let’s just say your Mr. Finn’s filibuster with the candlestick came half a moment before my own. And I would not have stopped at merely knocking the bastard out cold.”
Renée thought back, but her memory of the darkened hallway was vague at best, blurred by pain and fear. If he had been concealed in the shadows, watching, she had not seen him, although the greater irony might be that Roth had been standing less than a few feet from his quarry and not known it.
“If you saw what happened, m’sieur, then you must know I am not his willing associate.”
“By the same token, I’m certain you can appreciate that I will still have to give your request some thought. Roth is a clever bastard. Stupid in some ways, but”—his gaze rested briefly on her lips—“very clever in others. We will meet again, as planned, in three days’ time, and I will give you my decision then.”
“But Roth knows where we are to meet. Will he not send his soldiers there to try to catch you?”
“I would be extremely surprised if he did not.”
He dismissed the concern so casually, she was dumbfounded for the moment or two it took her to realize he had returned to the window. “You are leaving?”
He swung open the pane and glanced over his shoulder. She had spun around and was standing in the full beam of moonlight, her face and body awash in its luminescence.
“Mam’selle,” he warned her quietly, “if I were to stay any longer, it would not be for the purpose of talking.”
She swayed slightly at the flagrant implication behind his words and clasped her
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