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“Forgive me, but I must ask you not to move,” she rasped in low tones. “Do not fear, I promise I will not harm you if you do as I say.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before the elderly woman slowly turned. Then surprisingly, the woman was reaching up to push back the hood of her cloak.
“Unfortunately, I cannot promise the same, querida,” drawled an all too familiar voice.
CHAPTER NINE
PHILIPPE REALIZED THAT THE cold, vicious fury that had plagued him since he returned to discover Raine gone was oddly melting away as he regarded her pale, shocked face.
Oh, he was still angry. His pride had been wounded by the knowledge that while he was planning an erotic interlude, she had been devising a means to escape him.
And beyond that had been a sharp, unwelcome dread. As if her disappearance had lost him more than a potential mistress.
But now that she was once again in his grasp, the chill began to ease from his heart, as if her mere presence was enough to return that warmth he craved.
“Do not bother to flee, Raine,” he warned in silky tones. “If I am forced to chase after you yet again, I shall be very annoyed. You do not desire that.”
Her gaze tracked Swann as he straightened and moved to stand in the center of the road. He had not yet pulled his pistol, but the threat that he would stop at nothing to keep her from fleeing was etched in every line of his bulky form.
Her expression tightened as she returned her attention to Philippe. “What are you doing here?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Obviously awaiting you.”
“But…”
“Carlos,” he called, summoning his companion, who had been hidden in the bushes across the road. “Please assist Miss Wimbourne from her mount and put her in the carriage.”
“No,” she managed to squeak before Carlos had his hands tightly around her waist and was plucking her from her horse.
Despite her diminutive size she managed to land a kick to Carlos’s knee and was attempting to rake her nails down his face when Philippe stepped forward and grasped her wrist in a firm grip.
“Raine, if you try to battle me, it will be very much the worse for you,” he warned.
Her dark eyes flashed with a frustrated fury, and something else. Fear?
“What could be worse than being in your clutches again?”
“My clutches?” Philippe instinctively eased his grip, his thumb rubbing an absent path over the thundering pulse in her wrist. “You make me sound like a villain from a Gothic novel.”
“An apt comparison, considering your habit of lurking in the dark to kidnap poor, helpless women. What else could you be but a villain?”
Philippe gave a short laugh. “You poor and helpless? A pit of vipers holds less danger than you. Besides, you left me little option. My lover belongs in my bed, not risking her beautiful neck with such reckless abandon.”
Her breath caught and a fiery blush stained her cheeks. “Do not say that.”
“What? That you are my lover? It is true enough.” There was a bite to his tone. He did not like her denying their relationship. His gaze shifted to the silent Carlos. “Put her in the carriage and let us be on our way.”
Carlos gave a lift of his brows, his expression faintly mocking. The man seemed to find a great deal of amusement in the fact that Philippe’s little urchin had proved to be a woman. And even more amusement in the fact that Philippe had been nothing short of desperate to track her down.
That amusement might have worried Philippe at any other time. It meant that Carlos thought he possessed some secret information that Philippe did not. But at the moment he was more interested in keeping an eye on Raine as Carlos bundled her into the carriage.
She would never meekly submit to her fate. She would battle him until he could make it clear that she was utterly and completely his.
Waiting until Carlos stepped back, Philippe climbed into the carriage and settled at her side. He closed the door and Swann swiftly had them moving down the frozen road.
Scooting along the leather seat, Raine pressed herself into the corner and glared at him.
“What are you going to do with me?”
