18
Alexandra’s embarrassment lasted for two days. She should have taken Vasili at his word, but no, she’d had to stop at that farmhouse he’d mentioned—and find out that the only inhabitants were an old couple and their two grandsons.
Whether he had dallied or not, it wouldn’t have been with the old woman there unless he was really desperate, and apparently he wasn’t, because he had been laughing when Alexandra had come back out to mount her horse.
And he’d been smiling ever since, or so it seemed.
That round had definitely been his, damn him.
But he had gone one better. When they’d stopped at an inn last night, he had sent a bath to her room with a message she couldn’t ignore. Use it or I will be pleased to assist you. And the insufferable popinjay had sniffed her when she had come down to dine afterward.
But when an opportunity came for her to get even, she pounced on it, not realizing just how effective it would be.
The town they arrived at later that week had a small but elegant hotel, and as usual, it was an establishment that Vasili was already familiar with, since they were retracing the route he had taken to her home.
She had at first worried that the hotel would have too many women on staff for her to keep track of them all, so she determined that she would have to keep track of Vasili instead.
But she found out that he had spent only one night at the hotel the last time he’d been there, even though the rest of his party had stayed much longer.
This was where they had stopped for an entire week, and not because a member of his group had been ill.
Vasili had lied to her father. He had caused her to pack and leave her home with less than a day’s notice. Why?
The lady’s name was Claudia Shevchenko, a young widowed countess, and Vasili had spent the entire week in her bed, or not far from it. Her home was down the street from the hotel, and he had met her the night of his arrival in town, when she had been at the hotel dining with friends.
The story had been easy enough to obtain because the two had created quite a scandal.
It wasn’t a large town, after all, and the widow was well known here—and supposedly pious; at least she used to be, before she had met one extremely handsome Cardinian who could seduce an angel if he cared to try. Or so the story went.
So Alexandra was surprised that Vasili didn’t once try to leave the hotel the night they spent there, that he went to bed and actually stayed in it, according to the report she had from Timofee as soon as she left her room the next morning.
What didn’t surprise her was to find him absent when she joined everyone outside the hotel to leave.
It was Lazar, looking extremely uncomfortable, who had apparently been chosen to tell her, “Vasili has already departed.”
“Has he indeed. How long ago?”
“Ten minutes.”
She didn’t doubt that Lazar had a number of excuses ready to explain this change in routine if she cared to hear any of them. She didn’t. She looked to Konrad for confirmation of the time that had passed since Vasili had left. At his affirmative nod, she simply smiled and rode out of town.
She decided she would give Vasili twenty minutes and no more. If he didn’t show up to join them by then, she would return and find him, because she didn’t believe for a second that he was on the road, merely riding ahead of them, as had become his habit.
Vasili was at that very moment knocking on the door of the redhead who had entertained him so well the first time he’d passed through this town. And as his luck was holding, she happened to be the one to open the door, instead of one of her servants—and slammed it abruptly in his face.
“Go away!” he heard her shout hysterically from the other side of that solid, and now locked, barrier. “I like my ears just as they are!”
For the briefest moment, he doubted his hearing. But then his fingers slowly curled into fists, his face suffused with heat, and a low growl rumbled from his chest.
And he reached Alexandra in much less than the twenty minutes she’d figured on.
She heard him galloping up behind her and swung Sultan’s Pride about to face him. They nearly collided. It was damn close.
“Over there,” he said ominously. “Now! Or there will be hell to pay.”
He’d pointed to a lone tree that was at least a quarter mile away, and he rode directly to it without waiting to see if she would follow.
As angry as he appeared, she considered staying right where she was—but no, she was too hopeful that this was it, the end she had been working toward.
Her friends weren’t as optimistic. She had to order them to remain with the wagons.
On Sultan’s Pride, she reached Vasili in no time at all. He had already dismounted and was pacing beneath the tree. He didn’t give her a chance to dismount herself, but dragged her off her horse, then let go of her instantly to resume his pacing.
She’d never seen him like this, never imagined that a popinjay like him was capable of such fury. And there was no mistaking that he was furious.
Warily, she tried to put some distance between them, deciding she could wait to hear whatever he had to say. But as soon as she moved, he closed the distance in a flash and was towering over her, and his eyes—heaven help her—seemed aglow with an inner fire.
“I won’t stand for it any longer,” he said, and he was just short of shouting. “There will be no more threats from you, Alexandra. I will bed any woman I please, when I please, and if you cause one more to hide from me in terror, I’ll bed you instead.”
That wasn’t what she had hoped to hear, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been either.
So she crossed her arms and replied calmly, “No, you won’t.
As long as you belong to me, you’ll be faithful to me.
I don’t know why you keep making me repeat that.
And you won’t be bedding me until after we have a wedding.
If you want your women back, Vasili, you know what you have to do. ”
“And you think I’ll abide by that?” This time he was shouting, and quite loudly.
She knew it would be an insult to him if she continued calmly in the face of his fury, but that was what she did. “No one says you have to abide by it, Petroff. You’ll just have to accept the consequences if you don’t.”
That started him pacing again. He was really quite fascinating like this, so volatile, even unpredictable.
She ought to be frightened, but she wasn’t.
Nervous, yes, but that was all—until it occurred to her that they wouldn’t be having this discussion if he hadn’t gone to that woman.
And he’d gone to her to bed her, and would have done so if Alexandra hadn’t been told about her and sent along that little message.
He was guilty by intent. What she felt about that didn’t bear describing.
Suddenly he demanded, “How the hell did you find out about—about—?”
“Claudia?” she prompted.
“Yes, Claudia, or whatever her name is.”
That he wasn’t sure what the woman’s name was should have appeased Alexandra somewhat, but it merely disgusted her all the more. The man obviously had so many women that he couldn’t keep track of them. She’d already figured as much, but hated seeing proof of it.
But he wasn’t going to know how disturbed she was, so she shrugged before answering. “You’d be amazed at the kind of information you can gain with a few coins placed in the right pockets.”
“And you paid her a visit? When? You didn’t leave the inn.”
Apparently his spies hadn’t gotten much sleep last night either. “I didn’t bother seeing to it myself,” she said, striving for a tone of indifference. “I sent someone with my message. It must have been delivered accurately.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he sneered. “Your people are thorough.”
“It’s called loyalty.”
“Are you implying that I have none?”
She gave him a tight little smile. “You said it, I didn’t.”
He bristled at that, too, though he sounded merely indignant. “I’ll have you know my loyalty is beyond reproach, but reserved for only a select few.”
She knew the answer, but still wanted confirmation. “And I’m not one of the few?”
“You said it, I didn’t,” he shot back at her with a nasty smile.
She could no longer keep her voice from rising. “Not even if I become your wife?”
“You’d better hope you come to your senses before then,” he growled.
“You’d better hope you do, Petroff!”
Once again, they were standing nearly nose to nose, she glaring up at him, he scowling down at her. Her bosom was heaving. He noticed, and there was no unusual odor to distract him this time.
Passion was a fickle emotion, easily redirected. Suddenly Vasili felt he would die if he couldn’t kiss her. Suddenly Alexandra couldn’t take her eyes off his sensual mouth.
And then, as if she’d willed it, she had the taste of him, fiery hot, wild. It was better than she remembered. He was crushing her against him and that was also better than she remembered.
Her fingers gripped his arms, pressing into his muscles, but not to push him away. A hand on her bottom lifted her, locked her to his heat, and she was melting, dissolving, mindlessly wanting something just beyond her reach and understanding.
She was arched to the point of breaking, Vasili was bent over her so far, as if he would take her to the ground by his lips alone. His wanting to make love to her so badly made him forget every golden rule of seduction that he had adhered to in the past.
This was no seduction where he controlled every move and nuance to a desired end. He had no control, was in the grip of pure emotion, the taste and scent of her filling his senses, the feel of her intoxicating him, driving him beyond what he knew as rational.