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“It belongs to my brother.” A thin smile touched his lips. “Or rather I suppose it belongs to me, since I was the one who was expected to hand over the funds to pay for it. Not to mention the wages for the small staff. It is not the most luxurious of my homes, I fear.”
Raine rolled her eyes. It was far larger than her father’s cottage and worth a small fortune to most people.
“Oh, certainly not. Why, I daresay, there are no more than four bedchambers and only two drawing rooms. How could anyone endure such cramped quarters?”
A dark brow arched. “A trial, indeed. Still, we will not be here for long.”
She turned to regard his perfect countenance. “You said that you had no homes in France.”
“I consider this my brother’s home, not mine.”
“Just how many homes do you and your family own?”
“A fair number. I have always found that property is a sensible investment. Especially property that is bound to increase in value over the years.” He pointed toward the vast tumble of Paris below them. “Do you see how the city is expanding? This area will soon be overrun by Paris and the land will most certainly triple in worth.”
“Of course it will,” she muttered.
He turned back to her with a narrowed gaze. “You sound disapproving.”
Raine gave a restless shrug, not at all certain why she felt the continual need to provoke this gentleman. Perhaps it was because the only time he revealed he possessed the same emotions as the lesser mortals was when he was making love to her.
“I cannot help but wonder if you ever make a decision that does not offer you some profit.”
“You think I should make decisions that will make me a pauper?” he taunted.
“Do you ever do anything just because it pleases you?” she prodded.
That aloof coldness she so detested hardened his features. “As it so happens, making a profit does please me.”
“And you are never impulsive? Never impetuous?”
His green eyes glittered like chips of emerald beneath the pale winter sun. “Impulsive is merely a pretty word for those who are rash and irresponsible. Not all of us have the luxury of ignoring our duties.”
A pang of guilt shot through Raine’s tender heart. This man had not only lost his mother when he was still but a babe, but he had been forced to bear the entire weight of his feckless family. Perhaps it was not so surprising he wrapped himself in a cloak of impenetrable solitude.
“Do you resent your father and brother?” she asked before she could stop the words.
“What I resent is being kept in the freezing air while you indulge in your ridiculous inquisition. I, for one, would prefer to spend my time in a warm bath.”
Without waiting for her response, Philippe was striding toward the back door, his posture rigid and his shoulders tight with annoyance.
Raine heaved a sigh before trailing behind him.
She had desired an adventure that would lead her far from the dull tedium of her life.
She would have to be far more careful of what she wished for in the future.
PHILIPPE’S MOOD WAS STILL dark when he left the cottage to make his way to Paris later that evening.
It was unlike him to allow himself to be goaded by another’s opinion of him. Especially a mere chit’s opinion. After all, most people thought of him as a coldhearted bastard who took no pleasure in the world beyond making a profit.
And in some respects they would not be wrong.
But the notion that Raine found him lacking because he could not behave as some frivolous, worthless dandy made his gut twist with anger.
For God’s sake, her father might very well send them both to the gallows with his reckless behavior, and yet she clearly loved him with an unwavering loyalty. Is that what she desired? A man who would risk her life for a mere lark?
Not that it mattered what she preferred, he acknowledged with a flare of determination. For the moment she belonged to him. And nothing would change that until he decided it was over.
