18 #2
And then they were suddenly on the ground, neither of them the least bit aware of it.
Vasili was driven toward a single goal; Alexandra was consumed only by the sensations clamoring inside her, the sheer pleasure derived from his touch, his weight now covering her, his hand sliding up her thigh, until…
Her moan was lost in the depth of his kiss, his hand now cupping her heat sending her so close to the edge—and he knew, and had never felt such keen satisfaction in a woman’s yielding response before.
He would have taken her right there on the ground, and she would have let him. That was the horrifying realization that dawned on both of them when Sultan’s Pride nudged them a few breathless moments later, and they both scrambled to their feet.
Alexandra was mortified by what Vasili had made her feel, again, and her reaction was to slap him this time, hard. She should have given it more thought first, because his reaction was to slap her back, not hard, but just enough to shock her that he would.
“Well, that certainly served no purpose,” she remarked dryly.
Vasili was still trembling, wanting nothing more than to yank her back into his arms. How did she dare to stand there and appear totally unaffected by what had just passed between them? As for that slap, she shouldn’t have caught him when he was so—not himself.
“Yell at me all you like, sweetheart, only the next time you want to get physical, you can be sure I won’t hit back,” he promised.
“You won’t?”
He shook his head slowly. “No. I’ll take you off in the bushes and make love to you instead.”
She had to be crazy not to try to change this subject. “Why didn’t you this time?”
“I believe in fair warning—when your choice in the matter will be taken from you.”
“You’d do it even if I fight you?”
His smile was chilling. “Exactly.”
“You know what that’s called, don’t you?” she said with biting scorn.
“When you’ve been given fair warning? I would call it an invitation.”
It was his sexual frustration that had led him to make this alarming threat, she was sure.
And she could think of no way to gain back the upper hand when his promised consequence far surpassed her own.
But she wasn’t worried about slapping him again.
She could restrain herself from doing that—somehow.
It was the kissing she had to keep from ever happening again, the kissing caused by his frustration, the kissing that she had succumbed to so completely.
She was going to have to concede or risk having his frustration get worse, risk having him start thinking about his rights again.
Heaven help her, he might even try seduction on her if he got desperate enough, and she could still remember the special smile of his that he had turned on that tavern wench.
She didn’t want to find out if she could withstand its being turned on her.
But she hated giving in, and she did it now with ill grace, snapping, “Go, then! Go back to the last town and find yourself a whore. Spend the whole day with her. We’ll wait for you in the next town.”
Whether that was what Vasili wanted to hear, he was damned if he was going to go with her permission.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes dropping deliberately to her breasts. “I think I’ll wait until you slap me again.”
Alexandra gritted her teeth against the blush she felt rising, but it mounted her cheeks anyway. Slapping him again was just what she felt like doing. She had never known anyone who deserved it more.
Instead she threw caution to the wind and taunted him.
“A wise decision, Petroff, one that won’t benefit you, of course, but nonetheless wise—because I probably would have changed my mind as soon as you left.
And think how embarrassing it would have been when I interrupted you and your whore—hopefully at a crucial moment. ”
“Did anyone ever tell you what a bitch you can be, sweetheart?” he asked in a deceptively lazy tone. The glow was back in his eyes.
She injected some sweetness into her own tone, just as false. “I do try.”
She then turned abruptly toward her horse. Vasili reached out to stop her, though she didn’t notice it. But whatever might have happened next didn’t happen at all, because they were both distracted.
Alexandra first saw why Sultan’s Pride had nudged them earlier. He’d wanted to get her attention because Vasili’s stallion was encroaching too close and taking nips at his haunches. Then she saw something even worse, but something she should have expected.
The Razin brothers had started after her. And apparently Vasili’s guards had ridden after them to prevent their interference, because the lot of them were halfway between the road and the tree, literally rolling on the ground as they pounded one another.
Vasili swore beneath his breath before he cast Alexandra a black look. “Now look what you’ve done,” he growled accusingly.
“Me? Did you think my Cossacks would just sit there and do nothing when they saw you hit me?”
“I didn’t hit you.”
“Then what would you call it?” she demanded even as she mounted.
“A tap on the cheek to get your attention,” he said, also mounting. “If I had hit you, you would have been knocked flat on your back—which isn’t a bad idea, actually.”
That was the last straw. “Consider yourself lucky that Bojik didn’t follow me, or your men would be spending the rest of the morning burying you instead of attending to their black eyes.
And get control of your damn horse!” She was shouting at him now, since they were both riding back to break up the fight, and she had easily taken the lead.
“If he nips at mine again, I’m going to let Sultan’s Pride have at him—and I hope you’re on him at the time! ”
“Alex?”
“What?”
“I’ll consider any violence from you or at your instigation a slap.”
She shut up.