A Midnight Dance Read online

Page 6


  He didn’t answer her, and his expression was unreadable.

  He needs more convincing.

  She quickly added, “This has been a night of firsts. I’ve never stolen or tried to steal before. I swear it. And I’ve never experienced . . . the things I experienced with you tonight. What happened between us was not a ruse. It was . . .” She looked away, unable to look in his eyes as she said, “Bliss.” How she wished that were a lie, too.

  Still he remained silent.

  It unnerved her. She forced her gaze back to his. His dark eyes gave nothing away.

  She hadn’t come this far to lose the silver treasure. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She had to convince him to keep her with him—near the silver.

  She pressed on. “I’m traveling to the town of Maillard. It’s but a three-day ride. I have a cousin there who is a schoolmaster. He’s the only family I have left.” There was no cousin in Maillard. She’d purposely selected the town because she knew it was en route to his point of rendezvous. “Send the young men away, if you wish. But let me stay with you. Please . . . take me to Maillard. Take me to my cousin.” That would give her three days to find an opportunity to find his capture. And seize it.

  More maddening silence.

  Why didn’t he respond? If only she could decipher his thoughts.

  “Look at me.” She opened her arms theatrically. “I am no threat to a man like you.”

  His tactile gaze moved down her body then back up and met her eyes. He stepped closer and cupped her face in his warm palm. Her nerve endings sparked to life. “You want to stay with me, do you?” His thumb lightly brushed her cheek.

  “Yes,” she said, a little too breathless.

  “Why should I believe you? Why should I believe anything you say?” His touch was distracting.

  “There are many in my situation in the realm. Why are my words so difficult to believe? I’ve confessed the truth about the wine, about my original motives. I’m simply a woman in dire straits. A woman who . . .” The truth caught in her throat. Say it! “Who found unexpected pleasure in a stranger’s arms. Couldn’t you tell there was nothing false about how your touch affected me?”

  “Your passion wasn’t a lie,” he conceded. His sensuous voice stroked over her like a caress. His hand continued to cradle her cheek, with tender appeal.

  “May I stay with you, then? Will you escort me to Maillard?” She had such an overwhelming urge to put her arms around him and lean against his strong body. And it astounded her. She never leaned on anyone. Ever. Everyone always leaned on her.

  She kept her arms at her sides, by force of will, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to his mouth. A mouth that was all too perfect in too many ways.

  The more he touched her, the longer he remained close, the more she craved both. He was drawing her back under his influence, and she was having a difficult time locating the will to fight it. She had no understanding of the unbreakable attraction she had to this man.

  Though it wasn’t going stop her from doing what she had to do.

  She’d either find a way to master it, or submit to it. Whatever it takes . . . She was a survivor. And ultimately the victor in this charade.

  “Please, I would very much like to stay with you,” she said.

  “Really.” His tone was far too bland for her liking. “Is that all you want, Elise?”

  She gazed into his eyes. So darkly sensual. Far too stirring.

  Whatever it takes . . . Say the words. If you don’t, he could assign one of his men to escort you to Maillard, sending you away from the camp and the silver. “I’d like you . . . to show me more of the same kind of bliss you showed me tonight.” When this was over, she’d force herself to forget this night and all the shocking things Elise had done and was about to do.

  Jules slipped his arm around her waist and drew her against him. A wave of pleasure crested over her. He dipped his head. “Is that so?” he whispered near her mouth.

  She couldn’t speak, not when his lips were so close to her own. Not when she urgently wanted him to kiss her.

  His mouth came down on hers. She closed her eyes. Her womb clenched. Enthralled by his taste, she could feel her passion mounting. She pressed herself against his solid muscled form, feeling herself pulled into a dream she’d had once. And lost.

  He pulled away, and stepped back. She slammed back into reality.

  She was left missing the contact, mournful of the brevity of his kiss. And grappling with the usual discomposure he caused with but the briefest physical contact.

  He had his head down, his long strong fingers at work refastening his breeches.

  “Well?” she nudged, tamping down the carnal craving he’d stirred. “What is your answer?”

  He looked up at her, his task completed. Snagging his shirt off the blankets, he threw it on and cocked a brow.

  “You wish to know if I’ll let you stay and be your lover for the next three days until we reach Maillard?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  He stepped close to her again. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On what your friends have to say, and what stories they give.” Her stomach dropped.

  He stalked away.

  5

  Sabine raced after Jules. Her knees almost buckled when she saw him march past the brute Fabrice, yanking his sword from his scabbard without breaking his stride. Idly standing guard, the brute’s head snapped up in surprise.

  Jules stopped before Gerard and Robert, seated near the fire.

  “Get up,” he ordered, sword in hand.

  Her cousins leaped to their feet, both clutching wineskins.

  The murmuring around them died. Like predators closing in on their prey, the men who’d been sitting around the campfire rose and neared their leader, surrounding Gerard and Robert.

  Robert looked around at the circle of men entrapping them, bewilderment and fear etched in his expression. Gerard’s gaze shot to her. His eyes widened, the shock on his face arresting her steps. It was then she realized her hair was unbraided and mussed. Her appearance disheveled and telling.

  Gerard’s horror contorted his face. “Dear God . . . You didn’t . . .” His words trailed off. He remained frozen, staring at her.

  She had to briefly look away, unable to stand the pleading in his eyes as he silently begged for the reassurance that she hadn’t resorted to giving herself to Jules. When she found the courage to return his gaze, she saw devastation in their depths. It tortured her to see it, to see the hint of—tears. Her throat tightened. She’d run out without any thought about her appearance for her cousins’ sake.

  Seemingly oblivious to Jules’s threatening presence, Gerard’s expression told her he thought the price she’d paid was too great. How could she ever explain to him the pleasure she’d found in Jules’s arms? She couldn’t even explain it to herself.

  Jules moved to Gerard’s side and laid his sword across her cousin’s throat.

  Terror slammed into her.

  “You’ve been found out.” Jules spoke in the deadliest tone. “I should run you through here and now for your little scheme.” He glanced at Robert. “Both of you.” Jules’s body was rigid, his muscles tight with restrained rage.

  Gerard finally dragged his gaze to Jules. Never in her life had she seen that much contempt in her cousin’s eyes. His nostrils were flared, his breathing quickening. He looked ready to kill Jules.

  She had to do something. Fast. She broke through the circle of men.

  “This is completely unnecessary!” she protested. “Put down the sword.”

  “S-um-Elise?” Robert spoke up. His eyes were round with fright. “Wh-What did you tell him?” His terror was torturous.

  With a knot in her throat, she had to swallow before she could speak. “I told him everything.” In her rattled state, she’d completely mishandled it all.

  “E-Everything?” Robert asked, alarmed.

  “Commander?” Raymond
approached. “What is amiss?”

  “We have criminals in our midst,” Jules growled.

  “Criminals?” Raymond gave her cousins a sweeping glance. “These half-starved boys and this woman?”

  “They came armed, Raymond.” Jules leaned closer to Gerard. “Why don’t you tell us about the wine?”

  Gerard stared straight ahead, his eyes were cold and angry.

  “I’ve already told you about the wine, and about our plan to steal some coin,” Sabine interjected. “What more do you need to know?”

  “You what?” Robert choked out.

  “Mademoiselle, you’ll not speak another word,” Jules decreed. “Do you understand!”

  “You wish me to remain silent and watch you terrorize these helpless boys?” she shot back.

  “Helpless boys? I think thieves best describes what they are. And I intend to find out how much of a liar you are. You either remain silent, or you will be removed from this conversation entirely.” Jules tossed Raymond a look.

  Raymond grasped her elbow. She yelped in surprise when he yanked her away from Jules’s side.

  “Don’t!” Gerard cried out to Raymond, but Jules pressed the blade firmer against his throat.

  “You are the one who bargained her,” Jules said to Gerard. “And you’re going to answer my questions. Is that clear?” Each word was firmly dealt, dripping with implied threat.

  Gerard shot Jules a murderous glare.

  “ANSWER!” Jules bellowed. She jumped.

  “Yessss,” Gerard hissed out from between clenched teeth, never breaking his hate-filled gaze.

  A muscle twitched in Gerard’s cheek. He curled his hand into a fist as though he were going to lay a blow. For the love of God, he had a sword to his throat! What was he thinking? They were unarmed, outnumbered, and Gerard was facing a man who was considerably larger, not to mention highly skilled in swords and pistols.

  “How well do you know this woman?” Jules asked.

  The questioning had begun. Her heart rapped violently against her ribs. She prayed her cousin would answer Jules’s questions to his satisfaction and not do anything foolish for the sake of her honor.

  “Not well at all, it would seem.” Gerard’s anger simmered in his words. “For I cannot imagine why she would tell you anything.”

  “Careful with your words and your tone,” Jules warned. “When did you meet Elise?”

  Dear God. She couldn’t believe her ears. Jules’s choice of words was perfect! She yanked her arm free from Raymond’s grasp.

  “Answer his question precisely now. Everything will be all right,” she told Gerard, hoping he would understand her meaning, for if he answered how long he’d known Elise, all would be all right.

  Gerard looked at her and swallowed. A bead of sweat appeared on his brow. “I . . . I met Elise . . . today.”

  Oh, yes!

  “Why did you try to steal from us?”

  “Why not?”

  “Did you know she was an innocent?”

  Gerard clenched his teeth. “Was? As in, no longer?”

  “Answer the question!”

  “I told you, I only met her today.”

  “And you didn’t know she was a virgin? You couldn’t tell?”

  Gerard glared at Jules. “Could you?”

  A fresh wave of hot rage shot through Jules. He tightened his jaw and pressed the blade of his sword against the young man’s throat in a way that forced him up onto the balls of his feet.

  “Are you trying to provoke me?” Jules snarled, every fiber of his being fiercely urging him to vent his rage. Why should he restrain it?

  Why should he show any mercy to someone who wanted to deceive and rob him?

  “Stop!” Elise ran and faced him. “No more!”

  The look of fright in her eyes sent a sobering jolt through him.

  It was then he noticed the younger one had tears streaming down his cheeks, quietly praying, and the one before him, despite his best efforts to hide it, visibly shook.

  Jésus-Christ, what was he doing?

  He’d never raised a weapon outside of battle, and couldn’t remember ever losing his temper before five years ago.

  Now, any sort of duplicity sent him into a full fury.

  The two young males before him were nothing more than—as Raymond had described—half-starved boys.

  Having to resort to doing the unimaginable in order to survive.

  Lord knows he’d had to do the same. While he was nothing more than a commoner—his stomach clenched—he’d been forced to resort to, God help him, privateering for his country rather than serving his nation in the King’s distinguished Navy. The only thing that got him through each miserable day was his dream of returning honor to his family’s name, reclaiming his life, and exacting revenge on those who’d had a hand in stealing so much from him.

  His dream rested in the captured Spanish silver in the carts nearby. He was overly protective of it.

  He was overly sensitive to trickery.

  His gaze returned to Elise. She watched him warily.

  “Has he not answered your questions to your satisfaction?” she asked. “Have we not proven we’ve nothing left to hide?”

  Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then lowered his sword. “Martin. Xavier.”

  The two men approached.

  “Take the flagons of wine off their cart.”

  With a nod, the men walked away to do his bidding.

  The two young men before him were watching him, leery, waiting for his next order.

  “Are—Are we free to go?” the younger one asked.

  “In a moment,” Jules advised. “The wine stays here.”

  The two boys glanced over at Martin and Xavier as they removed the wine from their cart.

  “Oh, of course. You keep it!” the younger one offered, sounding relieved. He wiped his tears off his cheeks with a quick swipe of his hand. “And thank you. Thank you for not killing us.” He gave him a nervous smile.

  The older simply looked down at his feet.

  Jules squeezed the hilt of his sword. He wanted silence while he wrestled down the emotions still simmering inside him. If anyone had attempted thievery on board one of his ships, the punishment would have been severe. But they were not part of his crew. Even so, that didn’t mean he could simply let this go.

  His eyes were drawn back to Elise. She watched the men unloading her cart. Even in her disheveled state there was no denying it—she was beautiful. Three days and two nights in her company . . . Should he agree? His body roared, “YES!” Merde. His knees were still weak from the intensity of his orgasm.

  He couldn’t believe he’d had such incredible sex with this sexual novice. Having an inexperienced woman had never appealed to him before. The only virgin he’d expected ever to have was his wife—one day, after he’d regained his nobility and could marry in the class of his birth. The woman who would give him heirs, and would have the title “Marquise de Blainville,” and the esteem that would come with it.

  Elise met his gaze and returned it, unflinching. The urge to reach out and pull her near was as powerful as his urge to initiate her into further carnal delights. She was so genuinely sensual and passionate.

  And someone who’d attempted to deceive you.

  His decision to take her to Maillard would be dependent on the wine.

  Jules tore his eyes away from her and cast his gaze at his own covered carts nearby. Jésus-Christ. If she’d succeeded with her plan, she’d have discovered the wealth he had at hand.

  “Commander, the wine has been removed,” Martin advised.

  Glancing at the thwarted thieves, he sensed their apprehension. She’d said the wine was drugged. What if it had been indeed poisoned? What if the plan had been to kill them all? Desperate people resorted to desperate measures. He couldn’t allow his lust to cloud his thinking.

  That’s what had landed him in this mess to begin with.

  He didn’t want to believe she’d
be a part of such a heinous scheme. But he wouldn’t just let them walk away without knowing for certain just how dark a deed they’d plotted.

  “You are free to go,” he said, noting the instant relief on their faces, “after one of you drinks a goblet of your wine. Raymond, pour their burgundy.”

  Raymond stepped forward. Stooping, he picked up one of the fallen wineskins and a wooden goblet from the ground.

  A stillness fell upon the camp, the crackling of the fire mingling with the sound of pouring wine. The tension from the young men and Elise was palpable.

  Raymond held out a full goblet.

  “Well?” Jules asked. “Which of you will volunteer?”

  The three would-be thieves looked among themselves.

  “I will,” Elise announced and reached out her hand.

  Jules’s heart lurched. He caught her wrist, stopping her from grasping the goblet. “No. Not you.” Deep inside, he was immensely pleased. She wouldn’t have been willing to drink the wine if she knew it was poisoned. She’d told him the truth.

  He believed her story.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because they might have lied to you and purchased poisonous powder instead.”

  She frowned. “That’s nonsense. The wine is drugged. Not poisoned. I believe them.”

  “I don’t. It will have to be one of them who drinks it.”

  He was keenly aware of her wrist in his hand, and fought back the impulse to caress the inside of her wrist in light, sensuous circles with his thumb. Touching her inspired a number of salacious thoughts, all of which involved leading her back to their secluded spot, stripping off her clothing, and taking her slowly.

  Jules released her wrist and focused on the two males before him. “My patience is thinning,” he warned.

  They exchanged looks once more. Then the younger, a lanky boy with dark hair and eyes, stepped forward, clearly surprising the others, and took the goblet from Raymond’s hand.

  “I will drink it,” he said and took a sip. “There. You see? It’s not poisoned.” He smiled.

  Jules tamped down his annoyance with the cheeky youth. “What is your name?”