Chapter 28
Kassandra snuggled closer against the broad warmth at her back, lost in the most extraordinary dream. It was sensory more than visual, a swirling collage of fragmented impressions: soft whispers, sweet words, evocative scents, and thrilling sensations.
She stretched luxuriously, her legs entangling with muscled strength. She felt so safe, so secure, her body enveloped in a comforting presence.
She sighed and shivered, a hint of pressure sliding along the curve of a breast, circling, circling, just grazing a hardened nipple, then it was gone. Powerful bands drew her back possessively, holding her closer. A warm breath blew against her earlobe…oh, it tickled!
Kassandra’s eyes drifted open, her hand swiping languidly at her ear.
She drew a deep breath, her dreamy gaze caught and held by shafts of golden sunlight streaming through the small window near her head.
She watched, mesmerized, still half-asleep, as twirling flecks of dust danced in midair.
Smiling, she leaned forward, her arm outstretched, to catch a sparkling handful.
She gasped, her eyes widening in shock as strong, bronzed arms pulled her back and tightened around her.
She froze, not daring to breathe, suddenly fully awake.
Her heart pounded with fright. Memories of the storm tumbled through her mind, converging with her dream of only moments before and the sheer terror now gripping her.
The hand at her breast… Dear God, protect her, it was real!
Her gaze fell on a crumpled pile of clothing on the floor near the bed. Dark overcoat, breeches, black boots, with her white linen chemise peeking out from beneath in striking contrast. Desperately she began to struggle, her body taut and straining for escape.
“Easy, Kassandra, it’s me,” came a deep, rough-edged voice that she instantly recognized.
Stefan! Her limbs felt weak and useless as wild relief engulfed her, along with a giddy rush like butterflies in her stomach, and a strange, excited happiness. Dazed questions filled her mind. How? When?
Then a startling realization struck her and she forced herself to think clearly.
Even if it was Stefan, she was still in peril. She had not forgotten how he had deceived her the last time they were together. At this moment she could not be more vulnerable, lying within his arms, unclothed, the heat of his skin burning into her own. She fought to stay calm despite her trembling.
“How…how did you find me?” she finally managed, hazarding a peek at him over her shoulder.
She felt a jolt, a tingling, as she was struck by the rugged hollows and planes of his face, the inky blackness of his hair, the penetrating depths of his gaze, all like an unspoken embrace.
Her memories of him had hardly done him justice.
Stefan rose up on his elbow and gently rolled her onto her back, his breath catching in his throat as he drank in the sight of her.
Her color had returned, her skin flushed with rose, her lips lush and red.
Gratitude filled him, a prayer of thanks in his heart.
For a moment he simply could not answer.
His fingers gently stroked her silken hair, which fanned out like a fiery halo about her head.
He swallowed against the hard lump in his throat, finally trusting himself to speak.
“It appears you stumbled into my hunting lodge, my lady,” he began softly.
“Your hunting lodge?” Kassandra breathed in surprise. Her gaze flew about the decidedly masculine room, noting its rustic yet comfortable furnishings.
So this was where he claimed to have gone those many nights. It was amazing enough she had found any place in the storm, but the coincidence of finding his private refuge was truly unsettling.
“Yes. Your disappearance created quite a stir last night, Kassandra. I arrived late, hoping to surprise you, only to discover you were missing and my entire household in an uproar. You gave us…me, quite a scare.”
Kassandra’s pulse quickened at his last words, but she turned away to hide his dizzying effect on her. She marveled at how even his simplest phrase, his slightest glance, could fluster her so completely. It was all she could do to remember his deceit.
“I set out looking for you, but the storm became so intense, I was forced to seek shelter here, planning to stay only until it subsided.” He chuckled.
“I heard a noise, and thought there was a poacher in my bed. It was you,” he finished quietly.
He traced a finger lightly along the swollen bump on the side of her forehead. “Does it hurt?”
She winced, drawing in her breath. “Yes,” she murmured.
“What happened?”
She turned back to him, shrugging. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know, really. I was riding, then I heard a shot, from a pistol, I think. It all happened so fast. I was thrown to the ground, and that’s all I remember, until I awoke and it was almost dark.”
The faint memory of a face peering down at her entered her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. For all she knew, it could have been her mare nudging her. “I tried to find my way back,” she continued, “but the storm was so fierce, I got lost. Then somehow I found this place.”
“There must have been poachers on my land after all,” Stefan muttered darkly. If he ever found one, he swore vehemently to himself, he would surely kill the man. To think what an errant shot might have taken away from him…his love, his life.
This last statement hurt Kassandra to the quick, but she masked it with irritation.
Here she could have been killed, and he thought only of poachers! She began to sit up, but he pushed her gently back down on the bed, which infuriated her further, especially since the soft fur had fallen away from her breasts, leaving them exposed to his view.
Stefan’s gaze went instinctively to the tempting mounds, his blood shooting hot through his veins.
He longed to savor the sweetness of a rose-tipped peak, to explore the fascinating length of her body pressed so intimately against his own, its graceful curves, its womanly secrets.
Yet he knew that now was not the time. He tore his eyes away and caught her gaze.
The flashing amethyst depths had darkened to a stormy violet hue.
Stefan exhaled sharply. It was a look he knew only too well, and he could hardly blame her.
Except for his attempts to win her favor and their last evening together, he had given her little cause to regard him otherwise.
But hopefully after she heard what he had to tell her, her expression would soften.
Kassandra clutched the fur and drew it up over her body. “I would like to get dressed, my lord,” she said tersely. “So if you will kindly release me—”
Stefan silenced her with a gentle finger to her lips. “I have something to say to you, Kassandra,” he murmured.
She jerked her head away. Whatever it was, she had no wish to hear it!
“Surely it can wait until later,” she objected. “No doubt your servants are searching for us even at this moment. It would be most unseemly if we were found here together”— she blushed hotly—“like…like this.”
Stefan could not help but chuckle at her discomfort, then he grew serious.
Out with it, man, he told himself. You have kept silent long enough, too long. He drew her chin back to face him, ignoring the defiant glint in her eyes. “Listen to me, Kassandra,” he said softly. “I love you.”
Kassandra blinked, but she said nothing. She could not. Her heart was in her throat.
“I love you, Kassandra,” he repeated earnestly, “and I have been a fool not to tell you before now.”
Kassandra flinched as if she had been struck.
Love. It was as if by hearing the word spoken aloud, the bewildering torrent of emotion, the terrible longing, and the aching desire that had tormented her since their night of passion had finally been given a name.
She loved him, too! Seeing him again, feeling the stirring strength of his arms around her, she could no longer deny it.
Yet with this shattering realization, she knew she had to resist him. Especially now.
He had the power to hurt her far more than ever before if she fell prey to his charm again.
His words were false. He did not love her.
He had told her before that to him, love was a useless emotion.
He was only saying he loved her because he wanted her body, nothing more!
She had to protect herself, or be lost to his lies forever.
“No!” Kassandra exclaimed fiercely, shoving at him with all her might.
Taken totally by surprise, Stefan lost his hold on her and fell back against the log wall.
In that moment she sprang from the bed and snatched up her chemise from the floor.
She ran to the other side of the room and dressed hurriedly, slipping the thin lace straps over her shoulders.
Then she moved to the door, eyeing him warily as she fumbled with the latch.
“Will you run out in only your chemise, then?” Stefan queried, throwing back the fur and rising from the bed.
Kassandra’s knees quaked at the sight of him.
He was so devastatingly handsome, the rippling power of his body more beautiful than any form she had ever seen. During her wide-eyed hesitation, he strode across the floor and pulled her into his arms before she could even think to flee.
“Why don’t you believe me?” he asked raggedly, molding her supple form to his own, his hands tightening desperately on her narrow waist. God help him, he was baring his soul to a woman for the first time in his life, and she refused to believe him!
His tormented gaze caught and held her own.
“I swear to you, Kassandra, I love you more than life itself!”
She shook her head, bringing her hands up and clasping them over her ears. She was in agony, her soul being ripped apart. If only she could believe him! She could forgive him anything, everything, if only his words were true. But he lied, he lied!
“No, please,” she cried, trying to twist free of his grasp.
He captured her face in his hands and brought his mouth down upon her own, as if by the power of his kiss, their panting breaths merging as one, he could convince her of his words.
He plundered her lips, forcing them apart, his tongue delving into her, his arms pulling her closer, closer…
Tears stung Kassandra’s eyes as she returned his kiss, deeply, deliriously, for she was powerless against it.
She gave herself completely, forgetting her rage, her anguish, the lies, the deceit, the past, the future…everything fading into insignificance but for the breathless splendor of the moment.
Yet when he wrenched his mouth from hers at last, something snapped deep within her. She knew there was only one thing she could do.
She would have to lie as well, to hurt him as cruelly as he was torturing her…by appealing to the one emotion she knew he possessed, the emotion she had seen in his heated gaze at Prince Eugene’s gala.
His jealous pride.
“Your kiss tells me what you will not,” Stefan breathed huskily, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “Say it, my love. Let me hear it from your lips that you believe me,” he demanded softly.
“It does not matter if I believe you or not,” she replied steadily, defiance flaring in her eyes. “Your love is wasted on me, Stefan.” How strange, she thought fleetingly. Her voice sounded so distant, as if it were coming from someone else.
“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly stunned, his brow knit in confusion.
“I love another, my lord. Save your eloquent words for your mistress, or someone who might better appreciate them.”
A strained silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of their jagged breathing.
Stefan stared at her, his expression unfathomable, his body strangely relaxed, nothing belying the depth of his furious agony but his eyes.
They were darkened to the color of slate, burning into her own as if he could read her very soul.
Then suddenly his hands slipped to her upper arms, gripping her brutally.
“Have you given yourself to another man, Kassandra?” he grated, his voice dangerously low.
Kassandra hesitated, fear surging through her, but she threw back her head and lifted her chin.
“Yes!” she tossed at him. She was stunned by the poignant flash of pain in his face, matched only by the haunted look in his eyes, and she almost regretted her words.
Was it possible she might have been wrong?
The door swung open so suddenly, she jumped in his arms, all thoughts forgotten as it struck the timbered wall with a resounding crash.
Karl stepped over the threshold, stopping with one leg still out the door. He gaped, red-faced, at Stefan and Kassandra, then backed out again, loudly clearing his throat and looking at the ground.
“Forgive me, Count,” the overseer blurted uncomfortably. “Though I must say I am relieved we have found you and the lady…alive and well.”
Not in the least embarrassed by his nakedness Stefan released Kassandra and moved to the door. “We’ll be out in a few moments, Karl,” he said tersely. “Is there an extra horse for the lady?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good.”
Stefan shut the door firmly and turned to Kassandra. “Get dressed,” he muttered. He strode to the bed, grabbed his clothes, and quickly put them on, his face set and grim.
Kassandra did not hesitate. She gathered her clothes from the floor and retreated to a far corner, where she dressed with her back to him.
Her fingers fumbled uselessly with the mother-of-pearl buttons on her riding jacket, which was still damp from the night before, but she didn’t care.
All she wanted was to be free of the oppressive tension in the lodge—and free of him.
When they were both ready, Stefan opened the door and bowed to Kassandra. “After you, my lady.”
She kept her eyes down, her face flushing as she stepped into the bright morning sun. She could imagine what Karl must think. She only hoped he was discreet enough to keep what he had seen to himself.
Stefan followed directly behind her, and hoisted her up into the saddle of the white Arabian. Then he mounted the roan stallion and they were off…a strangely silent party wending its way back to the estate.