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“Meu Deus. You are not going to dig in your heels now,” he growled, his countenance hard with annoyance. “Or is your word worth nothing?”
Her chin tilted at the deliberate insult. “Considering that my word was given under threat of blackmail, I hardly think you are in the position to be questioning the honor of anyone, Monsieur Gautier.”
“Perhaps not, but I am happily in the position to force you to my will, meu amor. So long as I can trust your word, then you will be allowed a certain measure of freedom. The moment you break that trust you will discover yourself a true prisoner.” He gripped her chin and tilted up her face to meet his glittering gaze. “Now, do you get into the boat of your own will or need I tie and gag you?”
She jerked from his touch, relieved as her surge of anger seared away the ridiculous fear.
“You beast,” she hissed. “Brute. Bully.”
With a startling speed he had her by the upper arms and was yanking her to his chest. “You have not even had a taste of how brutish I can truly be.”
She tilted back her head to glare into his tight features. “Fine, beat me then if it will make you feel better.”
For a moment the fingers tightened on her arms. Then he was giving a slow shake of his head.
“What the devil is this, Raine?”
“Good God, what do you think it is? I do not want to go to France. I do not want to leave my father. I do not want…” She stopped to lick her oddly dry lips.
He eased his grip and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “What? What do you not want?”
Raine heaved a sigh. “I do not want to get into that boat.”
A silence fell as he regarded her with a searching gaze. “Are you afraid of the water, querida?”
“I cannot swim.”
“But you have made the crossing before,” he said.
She gave a shudder as her attention returned to the rowboats. “On a decent ship that did not appear as if it would overturn at the first stiff breeze,” she retorted, her eyes narrowing as his lips began to twitch. “Do not dare laugh at me. ’Tis not funny.”
His hand shifted to tug on a stray curl that dangled beside her ear. “Why did you not simply tell me that you were afraid to get into the boat instead of making such a fuss?”
Raine gave a restless shrug. She was not about to admit that she had been embarrassed to confess the truth. Or that she took pleasure in his belief that she was bold and daring and not at all the usual sort of female who had vapors at every opportunity.
“Does it matter why?” she demanded. “I do not doubt you intend to force me onto the boat regardless of any protest I might make.”
He swooped down to drop a light kiss on the tip of her nose.
“We must get to the yacht, Raine. And since you have already admitted that you cannot swim, I see little choice but to take a boat.”
Her lips thinned at his patronizing tone. “There are many choices, Philippe. You could take the boat and I could return to the inn.”
Something flashed in his green eyes. Something dark and primitive. Then, without warning, he was scooping her off her feet and cradling her next to his chest.
“Ah, no, meu amor,” he rasped as he moved down the steep path. “We are in this together.”
She instinctively threw her arms around his neck. “Philippe, put me down.”
He gazed deep into her wide eyes. “I have you, Raine. I will not allow anything to happen to you while you are in my care.”
PHILIPPE KEPT HIS WORD. He maintained his tight grip on Raine throughout the short, unfortunately unsteady voyage to his yacht.
Not that he truly had many options, he wryly told himself. Raine had clung to him like a limpet with her face buried in his chest and her fingers digging painfully into his shoulders. It would have taken a good deal more effort to dislodge her than to simply keep her cradled close to his body.
Besides, the last thing he needed on his hands was a hysterical woman.
Once aboard his luxurious yacht she noticeably relaxed, and after carrying her into his private cabin, he tucked her into bed before returning topside and calling for his secretary, who he had left onboard during his brief stay in London. Juan was far more than a mere servant, as were most of the staff who traveled with him, and his skills would be necessary before they arrived in Calais.
