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She gave a small jerk, as if she had been slapped. “Not stand in my path?”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “How very gracious of you.”
Philippe offered a casual shrug. “You wish to be of service to others and many of my staff are no doubt eager to learn. It seems a reasonable exchange.”
“Good Lord, Philippe, I was not requesting your permission. You have no authority over me.”
He leaned forward, his expression hard. “You are mistaken, menina pequena, I have already told you that you are mine.”
“I am not yours.” With a surge she was on her feet and glaring down at his relentless countenance. “I am a grown woman who is perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”
“Ah, yes. Decisions that very nearly led you to the gallows.”
“Instead they led me to your bed.”
He slowly rose to his feet. “A place you have more than enjoyed.”
“How dare you…”
“I fear you will have to continue your sulking alone, meu amor.” Philippe interrupted the angry words, his thin smile not reaching his eyes. “Carlos will be expecting me. There is no need to wait up for me. I shall no doubt be late.”
Without waiting for her response, he turned and headed toward the small foyer, where he gathered his coat and gloves befo
re leaving the cottage.
Stepping into the garden, Philippe gave a small shiver as the icy breeze swirled through the darkness. He slowed his steps, sucking in a deep breath of the chilled air.
What the devil was the matter with him? He had promised himself he would not be goaded. That he would be in complete command of the situation. But he had only to be in the same room with Raine for his renowned composure to be crushed into dust.
It truly made no sense. His skill with the fairer sex was beyond question. They fulfilled a necessary purpose in his life and in return he kept them well satisfied. Not only in his bed, but with the sort of expensive trifles that always pleased a woman.
Well, every woman except for the damnable woman he had left in the cottage.
Of course, he had never asked so much from other women, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Until Raine his lovers were no more than passing distractions that were forgotten the moment he left their beds. They were never allowed beneath his roof. And never allowed to disrupt his life.
Certainly he had never sought to capture their mercenary hearts. Or to brand himself so deeply, so thoroughly, that they would never be allowed to forget him.
Gads, he was surely losing his mind.
Entering the stables, Philippe was unsurprised to discover Carlos there before him. He was, however, startled to find that his friend had already saddled the horses and was awaiting him with obvious impatience.
His instincts prickled with anticipation. Taking the reins of his black, ill-tempered mount, Philippe easily swung himself into the saddle.
“Has there been any word from Belfleur?”
“A message arrived an hour ago.” Carlos mounted his own horse and led the way from the stables. “Belfleur will be waiting for us in the back rooms of Frascati’s.”
Philippe nodded, inwardly relieved he already had the prerequisite white cravat tied about his neck. The gambling house was one of the most elegant in Paris and demanded that its guests be properly attired.
“He must have information,” Philippe muttered as they cautiously made their way down the icy streets. “Perhaps there will be some good news at bloody last.”
Easily sensing the edge in his voice, Carlos sent him a curious glance. “Troubles?”
“I am beginning to believe that females were put on this earth for the sole purpose of creating chaos in man’s well-ordered existence.”
