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Prologue 1

Paris, France—1757

With her fingers curled desperately around the edge of the table before her, Marguerite Piccard writhed in the grip of unalloyed arousal Gooseflesh spread up her arms and she bit her lower lip to steed to escape

“Do not restrain your cries,” her lover urged hoarsely “It makes me wild to hear them”

Her blue eyes, heavy-lidded with passion, lifted within the aze of the man who moved at her back The vanity in her boudoir rocked with the thrusts of his hips, his breathing rough as he made love to her where they stood

The Marquis de Saint-Martin’s infamously sensual lips curved with ht of her flushed dishevel her body to move in tandem with his

They strained together, their skin coated with sweat, their chests heaving from their exertions Her blood thrummed in her veins, the experience of her lover’s passion such that she had forsaken everything—family, friends, and esteemed future—to be with him She knew he loved her silance

“How beautiful you are,” he gasped, watching her through the mirror

When she had suggested the location of their tryst with tiht

“I aarments as he stalked her into the boudoir There was a sultriness to his stride and a predatory gleam in his dark eyes that caused her to shiver in heated awareness Sex was innate to him He exuded it from every pore, enunciated it with every syllable, displayed it with every movement And he excelled at it

From the moo, she had been solden handsomeness His attire of ruby red silk had attracted every eye without effort, but Marguerite had attended the event with the express ai him in the flesh Her older sisters had whispered scandalous tales of his liaisons, occasions when he had been caught in flagrant displays of seduction He ed; yet discarded lovers pined for hi outside his home for a brief moment of his attention Her curiosity about what sort of shell would encase such wickedness was too powerful to be denied

Saint-Martin did not disappoint her In the simplest of terms, she did not expect hiiven to the pursuit of vice and excess were rarely virile, as he most definitely was

Never had sheto a wonificent, his physical form impressive and his aloofness an irresistible lure Golden-haired and skinned, as she was, he was desired by every woood reason There was an air about him that prohts intiet theht and ten years, and he possessed a wife as lovely as he was couerite’s i attraction to her

“Your beauty has enslaved ht He stood near to where she waited on the edge of the dance floor, his lanky frae column “I must follow you or ache from the distance between us”

Marguerite kept her gaze straight ahead, but every nerve ending tingled froh she could not see hiard and it affected her to an alarree “You knoomen more beautiful than I,” she retorted

“No” His husky, lowered voice stilled her heartbeat Then, made it race “I do not”

There was sincerity in his tone Against better sense she believed in it, a faith she held close to her heart when su

“Do not entertain girlish notions regarding Saint-Martin,” the baroness ordered “I itness to the way he looked at you, and how you admired him in return”

“All the wo him, even you”

Herthe back of the chaise she occupied Despite the relative earliness of the hour, her face and ere already liberally powdered, and her cheeks and lips were rouged a lush pink In the soft silver and white décor of her private sitting rooe, which was by design

“You, hter, are to be a wife Since the marquis already enjoys the wedded state with another, you must set your aim elsewhere”

“How can you be certain Saint-Martin enjoys it? Their ed”

“As yours will be if you do not heed me,” the baroness continued with a note of steel in her voice “Your sisters ive you more license Use it wisely, or I will choose your spouse without consulting you Perhaps the Vicomte de Grenier? He is rumored to be sier and therefore more malleable”

“Maman!”

“You are not equipped to e a irls such as you and then gorges on less refined tarts”

Marguerite had held her tongue, aware that she knew nothing of the man but rumor and innuendo

“Stay away from him, ma petite A breath of scandal will ruin you”

Knowing it was true, Marguerite acquiesced and firotten me already”

“Naturelleuerite was her favorite, and the daughter most like her in both looks and temperament “The point of this discussion is to ensure that you follow suit”

But Saint-Martin proved to be more deteruerite found hi her fro him Speculation abounded as to why he was suddenly less interested in his more jaded pursuits, which seduced her with the possibility that he was seeking her out deliberately Unable to bear the suspense and distracted from her pursuit of a suitable husband, she resolved to confront him directly

Ducking behind a large potted plant, Marguerite waited for him to pass her location in his pursuit of her She atte to facilitate a calm exterior, but the effort made her dizzy As had happened from the first, the nearer his proximity, the more disconcerted she felt She could not see him, yet she sensed his every footstep Closercloser

When Saint-Marti

n caht, she blurted out, “What do you want?”

The ed head turned to find her “You”

Her breath caught

He pivoted to face her directly and approached with ani her from head to toe As his dark eyes roamed, they heated, and when they paused boldly on her chest, Marguerite felt her breasts swell in response

“Stop” She snapped her fan open as a barrier between them Within the confines of her corset, her nipples hardened such as they did when she was cold “You will cause a scene”

His jaw tightened “And ruin you for the e you seek?”

“Yes”

“That is not a deterrent”

She blinked

“The thought of you wed to another,” he growled, “compels me to insanity”

Marguerite’s hand rose to her throat “Say no“I lack the sophistication required to banter in this manner”

His prowling stride did not falter “I speak the truth to you, Marguerite” Her eyes widened at his use of her given naless discourse”

“It is not possible for us to have more”

The marquis’s pursuit forced her to retreat until her back hit the wall Only the delicate barrier of leaves shielded them from view They had a moment alone, at most

He tugged off his glove and cupped her cheek The touch of his skin to hers made her burn, his spicy scent made her ache in unmentionable places “You feel it, too”

She shook her head

“You cannot deny the affinity between us,” he scoffed “Your body’s response to mine is irrefutable”

“Perhaps I ahtened”

“Perhaps you are aroused If any man would know the difference, it is I”

“Of course,” she said bitterly, hating the possessive jealousy she felt

“I have wondered,” he aze on her parted lips, “hoould be to make love to a woman such as you—beautiful and sensual beyond compare, but too innocent to wield it as a weapon”

“As you wield your beauty as a weapon?”

A sed at the corner of his sculpted mouth It stopped her heart to see the way it banished the lines of cynicism that rimmed his eyes “It pleases me to know that you find me attractive”

“Is there any woman who does not?”

The antly “I care only for your opinion”