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safe?”
    “I can see you are very enamored indeed, Roussel. Let me say this, I am not as concerned with a foreign woman as I am with traitorous Frenchmen.”
    “What about Lacroux? I do not want her slandered at every turn.
    That man is a dog and I should have killed him years ago when I had the chance.”
    “The minister’s gaze was speculative. “I don’t know this story.”
    “Ask him.”
    “I will. And as for your beauteous countess, I will do my best. I do not, as ever, control our sovereign.”
    That being as close, at a guess, to getting the minister’s assurance, Anton stood and inclined his head. “We will leave at once.”
     
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    Emma Wildes

Chapter Four
    The valley was verdant and bordered by meadows, the river that moved with lazy grace through the middle hung with willows. To Lara’s surprise, it was only a half day’s carriage ride from Paris, and to her further amazement, the house, when they pulled into the long drive, was nothing like the grand chateau she had expected.
    Considering the size of the comte’s Parisian mansion, the villa was quite small, charmingly set amid groves of fruit trees and informal gardens.
    “This is mine alone,” Anton said by way of explanation when they came to a rocking halt. “A place where I can escape the rigors of the city and relax. I keep no servants here. A woman comes to clean each day, and when I am in residence, her sister cooks for me. We will have the utmost privacy.”
    Surprised a man of his sophistication and wealth would ever choose to live simply, even if it were for short periods of time, Lara murmured, “You are more complicated than I thought, monsieur.”
    His familiar smile was spontaneous and dangerously attractive.
    “Here, we can fully explore the myriad ways of satisfying our sexual desires, Countess. With no one to disturb us, I plan on instructing you on the fine art of infinite pleasure and carnal bliss. I have a feeling you will be an apt pupil, my sweet.”
    One brow lifting, Lara smiled back coolly. “I see now this must be where you bring your amours, Anton. For a moment, I thought there was much more to you than your infamous reputation suggests.”
    “I have never brought a woman here. Not even my family is invited here, chérie . Shall we go in?”
     
    Incomparable
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    A little chastened and also flattered, she took his hand. Allowing him to politely assist her out of the coach, Lara was escorted inside, finding the interior of the house as attractive as the inside, with gleaming wooden floors and bright windows, the furnishings simple and unassuming like his bedroom back in Paris.
    He must be telling the truth, she decided, seeing how pleased he looked to be there, discarding his cravat and tailored coat immediately. He took her to a small salon where he poured them both a glass of chilled wine that had been left with a small repast of cheese and a loaf of bread.
    Settled in a comfortable chair, gazing out the window at the vista of flowers and leafy trees, Lara felt suddenly safer than she had in a long time, which was disturbing. She hadn’t even realized she was so nervous and unsettled over the possibility that he was right and the danger of imminent arrest hung over her head. Not to mention Lacroux. The man repulsed her in every way imaginable.
    But Anton had just the opposite effect.
    She looked at the man sitting across from her, his long fingers gracefully holding his goblet. His good looks were striking in their masculine appeal, his long, lean body lounging in a chair that seemed inadequate for his height and muscled strength, and she felt a glimmer of something else—something that had nothing to do with safety or contentment and everything to do with his unconventional promise of sexual license.
    Just thinking about what might lie ahead made her nipples stiffen and rise against the fabric of her gown.
    Madame Dupont had worked with dizzying speed, spurred, no doubt, by the notion of the comte’s deep