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Philippe had waited until she had fallen asleep to place his leash of ownership about her neck.
With a sense of premonition, she turned her head to discover the flawless ruby necklace, along with the amber pendant, had been carefully placed on the pillow.
Well, if he thought he could have the last word on that subject he was very much mistaken, she decided as she flounced from the bed and wrapped herself in a robe. Without bothering to brush her hair or pull on her slippers, she headed out of her chambers and down the hall.
No doubt most women would consider her a fool. Bloody hell, she was a fool. The necklaces that Philippe offered her were worth a small fortune. With them she could live the rest of her days without the least concern for money. She could travel far away from Knightsbridge. She could enjoy the delights of London or Paris or Rome. She could be truly independent in a manner she could never have dared hope for.
Even if she decided to remain in the village she could always use the outlandish jewels to rescue every widow, orphan and aging soldier that might need assistance.
However foolish, she was not keeping the necklaces. Not when they made her feel as if she had sold her soul to the devil.
Entering the drawing room, Raine came to an abrupt halt as she realized that the tall, male form standing beside the window was not Philippe. Instead, it was Carlos who slowly turned and regarded her with a slow, very thorough survey.
A blush rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he must be seeing. A young, half-naked woman who had clearly just climbed from her bed.
“Forgive me…” she breathed, her hands clutching the robe tightly around her body. “I did not realize you were here.”
An unmistakable heat entered his eyes as Carlos strolled forward. “I am happy you did not. I sense you would never have agreed to join me,” he said, firmly clasping her elbow to steer her toward the fire. “Come, you must be cold.”
Despite the voice of decency that warned she should return to her chambers, Raine allowed herself to be seated in one of the leather wing chairs. Over the past days she had discovered that beneath Carlos’s wicked charm there was an unexpected strength in his character. He was a man who could be depended upon in times of trouble.
“I was searching for Philippe,” she said in a tone that revealed her displeasure.
A dark brow quirked as Carlos leaned against the mantel, his arms folded across the considerable width of his chest.
“He said something of enjoying a hot bath and short nap before returning to Paris.”
Her eyes widened. “He intends to return today?”
“Sim.”
“Of all the idiotic notions. Obviously he will not be satisfied until he has made himself ill.”
A smile played around Carlos’s full, devilish lips. Even at ease there was a hint of passionate energy that shimmered about the man. In his own way he was as ruthlessly dangerous as Philippe.
“Once Philippe sets his eye on a task he rarely allows anything or anyone to interfere in his quest,” he said.
Raine rolled her eyes. “Certainly he does not allow simple common sense to interfere in his quest. The man could give lessons to a mule.”
“He does have some similar qualities,” Carlos readily agreed, his dark gaze lowering to the long curve of her throat exposed by the gaping robe. “Meu Deus. I presume that is a gift from Philippe? It is quite…ah…”
“Gaudy?” Raine interrupted sharply, a blush staining her cheeks. Gads, she had never been so mortified. To be known as Philippe’s lover was one thing. It implied the consent of two willing partners. To be a mistress…well, that made her nothing more than a possession. And the payment for that possession currently hung about her neck like the heaviest of yokes. “Outrageous? Ludicrous?”
With a fluid motion, Carlos crouched beside the chair, his hand reaching out to lightly stroke the gems about her neck.
“I was about to say, exquisite. Not all women could carry the jewels with such elegance. You were clearly born to wear diamonds.”
Startled by the intimate gesture, Raine abruptly rose to her feet and paced toward the center of the room. It was not that she found Carlos’s touch distasteful. No woman in her right mind could deny the man was a lethal temptation. But at the moment she had enough to cope with. Adding yet another arrogant, predatory, impossible male to her life was nothing short of madness.
“You are wrong, you know,” she muttered. “I was born to live in a small cottage with my father.”
There was not the slightest sound, but suddenly Carlos was gently turning her to meet his narrowed gaze.
“Not even you could believe that, Raine. Such beauty would be wasted among the savages. You were meant to captivate the world.”
She heaved an exasperated sigh. Did every man presume if a woman possessed passable looks she was anxious to sell herself to the highest bidder?
Or was it just something about her that made men assume that she had nothing but her body to offer? Perhaps there was a wanton wickedness inside her that they could sense.
