Page 93 of A Daring Passion


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“This is no game, Carlos.” His voice was low and lethal. “I will kill any man who touches her.”

Carlos leaned negligently against the side of the building, his expression indifferent.

“You know that you cannot threaten me, Philippe. I shall always do what I desire.”

“And what do you desire?”

The dark gaze momentarily shifted to the pathetic souls that struggled down the cramped street as Carlos considered his answer.

“I have become…fond of Raine. I would not stand aside and allow her to be harmed.”

Philippe frowned at the unmistakable implication. “You think I intend to harm her?”

His friend’s features hardened. “She is not like the other women you have seduced. She has not willingly traded her honor to acquire a wealthy protector.”

Philippe clenched his teeth together. He needed no reminders that he had been forced to blackmail Raine into his bed. Or that his hold on her was tenuous at best.

“What is your point?”

“If you hope to keep her, you will have to win her heart.”

Philippe gave a short, humorless laugh. The woman should already be desperately in love with him. He had swept her from the choking confines of her tedious village. He had draped her in satin and silk. He had tutored her in the arts of passion.

And, God knew that he had used every skill in his seduction arsenal to wring those sweet words from her lips.

What other innocent would still be battling against him?

“A task easier said than done,” he rasped. “She continues to keep me at a distance.”

“She does not trust you.”

“And you believe that she trusts you? You did, after all, assist me in kidnapping her.”

Carlos slowly smiled. “I have not yet forced her to my bed.”

“Enough.” Philippe grimly thrust aside his overwhelming urge to throttle his friend. For the moment he needed Carlos alive and well. “This discussion will be finished later. For now we will concentrate on Seurat. Have you managed to find his apartments?”

In the blink of an eye, Carlos had straightened and his expression was somber. Like Philippe, he possessed the ability to put aside all distractions when he was on the hunt.

“I have searched the buildings on either side of the alley, but there is no one willing to admit to knowing Seurat.”

“Dammit.” With an effort, Philippe moved down the narrow alley, his gaze flicking over the rubbish and filth. “He must have deliberately allowed himself to be seen near the cottage so that we would follow him into his trap.”

“He is clever,” Carlos grudgingly conceded. “And dangerous.”

“He cannot hide forever.” With a frown, Philippe bent down to study the ground, his finger

s touching the rough ridge of the hoofprint that had been left in the frozen mud.

Carlos sensed his sudden tension and crouched beside him. “What is it?”

“How many of the local residents do you suppose possess horses?” Philippe demanded.

“Any horse in this neighborhood is in the cook pot.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Carlos gave a lift of his brows. “Shall we follow the trail?”

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