Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Lily’s head slammed against a solid wall. After Volkov pulled her down the terrace, he had pushed her through an open door into a dark hallway.
“What did you tell him?” Volkov hissed.
“Nothing. I told him nothing.” Her breath heaved.
Volkov stood so close the familiar scent of bergamot and lime overwhelmed her senses.
Once she had welcomed his touch, allowed him liberties.
Now his very smell turned her stomach. Over the ringing in her ears, far from her revulsion and terror, Lily heard the faint sound of the waltz being played in the ballroom. Volkov’s touch made her skin crawl
“Liar.” He leaned closer, his face inches from hers.
His breath reeked with whiskey and yesterday’s dinner.
“I warned you to stay away from Glenaire. Don’t tempt me to change my mind about protecting your reputation.
A few words in the right ears and your marriage hopes will die an untimely death.
” The last word slid slowly off his tongue.
Lily swallowed her rising gorge.
“What did you tell him?” he repeated.
“Nothing!” she insisted, her anger growing. “You both ask the same questions. He demands to know what I say to you.”
She pushed against his chest, but the man didn’t budge. “I gave him the same answer I give you: nothing.”
“If my man in Thessaloniki is compromised, your father will pay with his life. Do you understand me? Fault will lie on your head. If you hadn’t been so nosy, you would not be in this position.”
“I’ve forgotten his name.” She lied. Shame and regret overwhelmed her. She had allowed herself to be lured to Volkov’s apartments. He had hinted at marriage. He had led her step by tempting step into sensual desire in a series of trysts until she lost all common sense.
“You know enough,” he snarled. “You listened at the door.”
“Yes, I listened.” Thank God for the interruption. “I heard enough to know what a fool I had been to allow myself to be seduced by a man who wanted only what information he could suck out of me.”
“Dear Lily”—Volkov smirked—“your tidbits about your father’s dealings with the Ottomans proved useless.
Information wasn’t all I wanted.” He ran a hand down her neck to cover her breast. “If you had stayed instead of slipping out my bedroom window like a thief, you would know how much more I expected from you.”
She pushed harder, but he pinned her arms. When he leaned in for a kiss, she turned her head and kicked her knee up. He jerked away before she could hit his vulnerable parts.
Instead of cursing as she expected, he laughed. “If we had privacy, I would show you how much I like my women feisty. As it is, I’ll leave you. For now.”
Lily tried to slip out of his slackened grip.
“Remember your father,” he murmured against her ear. “A gentleman who walks alone in a strange city? So many things could happen.”
Lily’s eyes widened in panic.
Volkov smirked. “Or to an unmarried and no longer eligible woman in London, for that matter. Though that would be a waste.”
He pushed away. “Avoid Glenaire, Lily. Don’t make me question your loyalty.”
Richard stood in the open door and watched Volkov swagger down the hallway. Lilias Thornton sagged against the wall.
“Don’t make me question your loyalty.” What the hell did that mean? Loyalty to whom? The damned woman went off with that worm as soon as I warned her away.
Richard saw them leave across the crowded dance floor and made it to the terrace in time to see them slip into a darkened hallway. A couple, intent on romance, came out behind him and forced him to slow his pursuit.
By the time he turned into the door, Volkov leaned in like a lover to whisper in her ear. The look on her face when Volkov slithered away, made his guts clench. Whatever just passed between them wasn’t gentle.
When he stepped inside, she jerked upward. Is she trembling? If I didn’t know better, I would believe she’s afraid.
“Volkov,” he said.
“What of it?” she demanded, pulling herself upright and lifting her green eyes to his.
He saw defiance, yes, but he also saw fear.
“Did he hurt you?” The bastard.
“No.” Her voice broke. “It is nothing. If you’ll excuse me …”
“You’re afraid.”
The defiant chin shot up. “What exactly do you want from me?” The chit has backbone. I’ll give her that.
“What does Volkov want?”
“Nothing. I keep telling you that.”
“What I just saw didn’t appear to be ‘nothing.’” He moved closer. He saw her tremble and reached out a hand to steady her. Fear without a doubt. Volkov will pay for this.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked softly. Russian machinations and Richard’s overwhelming responsibilities faded behind concern for this frightened woman, faded but didn’t disappear.
“Nothing you need to know. It is—” she hesitated. “Personal.”
Nothing that man does is entirely personal.
“I doubt that. What Volkov does impacts England. What did he mean about loyalty? Where does that loyalty lie?”
She swayed a bit at that, and he reached out his other hand, gently holding her shoulders and pulling her closer until they were inches apart. A fine rose scent wrapped around his senses.
“With my family,” she rasped, her eyes on his. “And with my country.”
“Then talk to me about Volkov.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re afraid to.”
She turned her head away, unable to look at him.
“He threatened you.” He didn’t need to ask.
She bit her lip. He thought she wouldn’t reply.
“Not me,” she whispered at last. “At least not primarily.”
He waited. There has to be more. Talk to me Miss Thornton. The rose scent drew him in; he shook it off.
“Tell me what you know,” he demanded. “Whatever it is, I can fix it. There is nothing I can't manage if I have all the facts.”
Suddenly, she snapped her head up. “You want to know everything about Konstantin Volkov? Call my father home.”
“What?”
“He’ll come if the Foreign Office orders it.”
“Thornton is in the middle of delicate trade negotiations,” he began, thinking out loud. If Volkov is involved, Thornton needs to come home. Another thought struck him.
“You asked him to come, and he refused.”
She didn’t respond; she watched him steadily.
Richard stared back, eyes fixated on her mouth.
Dear God, her lip is quivering. Richard’s entire consciousness narrowed to a need to soothe her quivering mouth. He leaned closer until his own touched hers. She startled.
“You don’t need to fear me,” he murmured against her lips. He felt her mouth soften. He explored her mouth with care, absorbed in the sensation.
The woman responded tentatively, moving under his lips, and he forgot his purpose entirely. Desire to comfort gave way to desire to take. Just a taste, a small taste of what I’ve wanted all evening. When the tip of her tongue touched his lower lip, he deepened the kiss, probing and demanding.
She shocked him with a response that matched his. A red cloud of desire consumed him. He slid his hands up her arms to cup her face. When she didn’t pull away, he put one arm around her waist and pulled her until her body touched his, from his knee to his chest, her soft curves warm against him.
When Lily tried to push him away, Richard had to blink to clear his vision. He had her against the wall, her skirts bunched in one hand, her bodice askew. My God, what madness!
He pulled his hands from her bodice and leaned on the wall, one hand on either side of her, breathing heavily, his head hung low.
“I’m sorry,” he began. He felt like a fool and hated it.
“You’re just like him,” she spat.
“I beg your pardon?” His loss of control had left him disgusted with himself, yet her accusation outraged him. “I’m nothing like Volkov!”
She pushed him away. “You’re no better than Volkov. You will use any means to get what you want,” she said, rearranging her dress. “You make me sick, both of you.”
His irresponsible behavior left him with no response to that.
“Now I can’t go back in there,” she went on, looking down at her disheveled gown. “My entire reason for being here lies in tatters, and you, sir, are to blame. I trust what just happened, that much at least, will stay between the two of us. I can’t afford the notoriety.”
She started to leave but turned back and glared at him. “You owe me. Call my father home.”
Her clear voice grated on his memory. “I can’t afford the notoriety!” How odd! Any other chit would try to trap me into marriage.
He knew he ought to feel gratitude, but he felt nothing but anger. He had behaved like a damned fool. Watching her, wanting her all evening, offered no excuse. Richard Hayden never lost control. Never.
Damn the woman anyway.
Richard drew breath to clear his thoughts. He would call John Thornton home; she could be sure of that. And he would stay away from Thornton’s tantalizing daughter, as far away as he could.