Nicole Jordan - The prince of pleasure

"I hoped you might need help changing," Dare replied lightly, even as he complied with her request.

"No, I do not need help."

"How tiresome. But truthfully, I am only here to persuade you to dine with me. One supper. What can it hurt? You can use the opportunity to ensnare my heart."

She gave him a hard stare. "What do you really want of me, Lord Wolverton?"

"I told you. I made a wager that I can win you."

"How much?" When he raised an eyebrow, Julienne crossed her arms with impatience. "What sum did you wager?"

"What does it matter?"

"If it is not too excessive, I will pay it myself, so I won't be compelled to endure this ridiculous charade." She had little doubt the amount of the bet would be well beyond her means, but she wished Dare to know how preposterous she found his game.

"This is not about money," he replied, feigning hurt. "My pride is at stake."

"Your pride?" She made a moue of disgust. "You are not truly serious about this public contest of yours, are you?"

"Ah, how little you know me."

It was true, Julienne thought with a sudden sadness. The man she'd once loved had become a stranger to her, one who cared nothing about holding her up to public ridicule.

And yet she couldn't truly blame him. She could only try to defend herself against whatever punishment he had in store for her.

With that distressing thought, she moved behind the screen. To her relief, Dare stepped away, acting enough of the gentleman to allow her a measure of privacy.

But it still unsettled her to have him in such close proximity.

"You agreed to my challenge," he said after a moment. "I should think you would want to make good. That was a swift recovery, by the way. In one brilliant stroke you turned the tables on me."

"I shall take that as a compliment," she said dryly as she removed her costume and began struggling with layers of panniers and petticoats.

"The reports of your talent are not exaggerated. You are extremely good."

"Sometimes I am. I was not at my best for tonight's performance."

"Found yourself distracted, did you?"

"As it happens, I did. I feared you might do something vindictive, and I was right."

He didn't respond to her accusation but returned to the familiar subject instead. "Come to supper with me, cherie. We can reminisce about old times."

"I find nothing I wish to remember."

"Not even the carnal delights we once shared?"

"Most especially that."

She drew on a modest, long-sleeved gown of dark blue merino, one that she often wore going to and from the theater.

Slipping from behind the screen, Julienne sat at her dressing table to scrub away her makeup. She made every effort to disregard Dare's presence, yet ignoring him was like pretending she wasn't trapped in a cage with a hungry tiger.

She could see him in the small looking glass as he leaned indolently against the door, watching her. He was silent as she took down her hair, not speaking till she had removed the pins and combed her fingers through the thick mass.

"You always had the loveliest hair. Like Russian sable. Rich and silken and luminous."

Julienne kept her lips pressed together, refusing to respond. He had always had a silver tongue, she reminded herself. Dare delighted in overstepping polite bounds with his cajolery and too-intimate innuendos.

"And you have the face and body of a temptress."

"I am no temptress," she retorted. "And I am no longer a green girl, susceptible to your flattery."

"No, not a girl at all. You've flourished into a ravishing woman."

Unexpectedly, she felt an ache of sorrow. Once, he hadn't needed to flatter her with words. He had made her feel beautiful with merely a glance. Beautiful and cherished. Stop dwelling on the past, you fool.

She felt Dare move behind her. Julienne froze as he took up the hairbrush and began drawing it slowly through her long hair.

"I always relished doing this. Remember?"

The warmth of his voice touched a chord in her that left her trembling. Remember? How could I possibly forget? She closed her eyes at the drugging shock of recognition and familiarity: the feel of Dare at her back, the vibrant heat of his body, the sweet sensation of his touch, his erotic tenderness. It had been so long…

Heaven help her, she wanted him. She knew if she merely pressed back against him, he would carry it further… reach down to caress her, stroke her, arouse her. The thought of his lean, elegant hands fondling the swell of her breasts made her nipples peak with longing.

Dismayed, Julienne locked her jaw, resenting her body's betrayal, cursing herself again for a fool. She was mad to have allowed herself to be alone with Dare. She'd thought herself strong enough to meet him again after all this time, but she was mistaken. She was too weak. And he was too dangerous.

Unable to bear his nearness any longer, she rose abruptly to her feet, leaving her hair unpinned. In agitation she went to the wall hook and fumbled for her cloak, then flung it around her shoulders.

"If you won't leave, then I will, Lord Wolverton. I bid you good evening."

"No, I think not."

He advanced with slow, determined strides across the small room until he stood directly before her. Warily Julienne took a step backward, but there was nowhere to go.

For a moment he simply stared down at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth. In a daze, she waited as he leaned toward her slightly, lowering his head until his warm breath touched her cheek… her lips. He intended to kiss her, she was certain. A ripple of panic flooded her, and she tried to brace herself for the impact-

Yet astonishingly, his kiss never came. Instead he gave her his notorious, bone-melting smile. Bending, he slipped a hand behind her knees and lifted her up in his arms, turning her panic to startlement.

"What the devil are you doing?" she demanded, gasping at his unexpected action.

"Taking you to supper; what else?" Dare answered blandly. "My carriage awaits, darling."

Dare shifted uneasily in the carriage seat, cursing the hot blood that stirred in his loins. His fierce arousal had taken him by surprise. He'd intended to exercise more control.

And he would have, if not for Julienne's instinctive feminine response to his nearness. He'd seen the blank daze of desire in her eyes, sensed the subtle changes in her body as she parted her lips in expectation of his kiss.

He'd had to veil the shock of raw need that ran through him. In sheer self-defense, he'd taken the first action that came to mind-swung her up in his arms and carried her out to his waiting carriage.

But being alone with her in the seclusion of the town coach had an even more profound effect on his body, rousing his cravings to a painful ache.

Involuntarily Dare cast a glance at Julienne as she sat staring silently out the window, her patrician countenance in profile. She was everything he remembered and more. In the muted light from the outer carriage lamps, her dark hair shone richly, flowing in heavy, silken waves over her shoulders. His gaze wandered to her bosom, where several curls lay in teasing disarray. Even now he had to fight the urge to move closer and bury his face in the luxurious mass, to slide his arms around her, to stroke those luscious breasts…

Dare swore again silently, feeling a surge of resentment that she had remained so alluring… that she still had the power to make him feel so much.

He'd been wholly determined to resist her, yet at her sensual response, memory had come rushing back to overwhelm him-every taste, every touch, every sensation, every yearning he'd thought forcibly buried deep in his heart, out of reach.