29
Bojik had been waiting on Vasili’s doorstep for Alexandra to appear.
She chided herself for forgetting about him.
Ever since the snowstorm when he had been unable to find her, he hadn’t let her far from his sight…
and what could have possessed her to lose her temper like that again?
She really didn’t care how many women Vasili had.
Others? He’d said others, the son of a…no, dammit, she didn’t care.
It was necessary to do something, yes, to remain consistent, but she didn’t have to mean it.
She could only be thankful that he hadn’t remembered what he’d warned her he would do if she ever threatened another one of his women.
She could also be thankful she had gotten out of there just in time, because he had been too close physically.
Those feelings that now seemed to well up within her anytime he came near her had definitely been on the rise.
And she was afraid she knew what would happen if she lost control of them again.
Vasili kept his eyes squeezed shut, but he could still smell the scent of her, still see the fury in her midnight-blue eyes, such passion, such…
He groaned and banged his head on the wall again; he hadn’t moved from there since she’d slipped away from him.
He could control this, he really could. He just had to keep his distance from her.
He’d managed to until today. And what had possessed him to give in to her demand?
He should have called her bluff and let her camp in the street.
If she got arrested, he wouldn’t say a word to prevent it.
But when she came before the magistrate, he’d arrange to have her placed in his custody—and the fantasy that that inspired had him groaning again.
His mother was his only hope now, and this hell he was caught up in could conceivably be over by the end of the day.
Maria’s first encounter with Alexandra could do it and…
Jesus, she’d left, slammed out of here, and she was too angry to wait for him outside.
He had visions of her lost in the city. The way she was dressed, and alone, men wouldn’t think twice about accosting her.
And he had her whip. He’d left her defenseless.
He felt such fear, he broke out in a sweat, and sure enough, when he got outside he saw that the footman held only his horse. Alexandra’s was gone. “Did the lady at least ask you for directions to my mother’s house?” he asked the man as he mounted, but was met with confusion.
“The lady?”
“The wench who arrived with me!” Vasili snapped.
“No, sir—but I heard her tell her dog to find Nina, whoever that is.”
That news didn’t exactly relieve Vasili, and he took off, hoping he could catch up with Alexandra before she got into trouble. But he arrived at his family home without sighting her, and by the time he located his mother in the conservatory, he was out of breath from running.
He also shouted without realizing it. “Where is she?”
Maria, wide-eyed and indignant, said, “Three months’ absence and this is the greeting I—”
“Mother, is Alexandra here?”
“No, she isn’t,” she huffed. “And why isn’t she with you? Only her servants have arrived so far, the last one just minutes ago.”
That gave him pause. “Was the last one a woman?”
Maria frowned. “I suppose that’s possible. I mean, now that you mention it, yes.”
The fear was gone instantly, leaving him so weak he had to sit down on a nearby bench. Maria, observing him closely, said suspiciously, “You aren’t going to tell me that woman was Baroness Rubliov.”
Anger should have overtaken him by now, for what he’d just gone through, but instead Vasili found himself grinning. “I’m afraid so.”
Maria was horrified. “And I sent her to the servants’ quarters!”
At which point he started to laugh.
“I’ve never been so embarrassed,” Maria later told Vasili. “Why didn’t she say anything?”
They were in the drawing room, waiting for Alexandra to join them for dinner.
Vasili had gone to the palace to let his cousin know he was back, but Stefan had been in conference with his ministers, so he’d left word that he would see him tomorrow.
By then, he’d had only enough time to return home and change for dinner with his mother, which he wasn’t going to miss for the world, and to try to calm Fatima.
That had been a lesson in exasperation. She hadn’t stopped crying, and while he’d always given in to her tears before, he couldn’t this time, not when he knew Alexandra had her ways of finding out things—her people were too clever by half.
And he’d found it much easier to send Fatima away for the time being than to deal with Alexandra’s temper again.
Yet even when he’d told Fatima that her leaving would just be temporary—he hoped—she had not been relieved.
He supposed the easiest way to have assured her that everything would be all right would have been to make love to her, but incredibly, he couldn’t dredge up the least desire to do so.
Fatima’s small, delicate body simply didn’t tempt him the way it used to, not when all he could think of was lush curves and breasts so large his hands couldn’t contain them… Jesus, not again!
He dragged his mind back to his mother’s question. “Alexandra didn’t say anything because she doesn’t care about such things. You probably could have put her in the stable and she would have been happy.”
“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Maria admonished. “And why was she dressed that way? Did something happen to her clothes?”
He shrugged. “She came with a mountain of trunks, but if there’s a dress in one of them, I wouldn’t know. The way you saw her is the only way I’ve ever seen her dressed.”
Maria narrowed her eyes so he wouldn’t mistake her displeasure with him. “You’re determined to persist in teasing me, aren’t you? Really, Vasili, I don’t find it the least bit amusing.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to know that, Mother. In fact, I can guarantee that you aren’t going to find anything amusing tonight.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“He would be referring to me, madam,” Alexandra said from the doorway. “Since he can barely tolerate me, he must assume that you won’t be able to either.”
“My dear girl, whatever gave you that…idea?”
Vasili barely managed to keep from laughing.
His mother’s hesitation came from finally noticing that Alexandra was still wearing the clothes she had arrived in, minus the coat and hat.
And Maria was remembering what he’d said about never seeing her in a dress, if the sharp glance she gave him was any indication.
But Alexandra ignored their silent communication to address Maria’s question. “If you don’t believe me, madam, you have only to ask him. He quite despises me.”
Vasili should have known that this evening wouldn’t go entirely as he had hoped it would. Alexandra’s frankness was going to shock his mother, yes, but he wasn’t going to escape unscathed from it.
Maria was now indignant again. “Vasili, tell her that isn’t true.”
He obliged. He even did so with a lazy smile. “Of course it isn’t true. Whatever I feel for you, Alex, I could never despise you. That’s such a cold emotion, and mine run much—warmer—where you’re concerned.”
She ignored his allusion to passion completely, and provoked him with an arched brow. “So we are to lie for your mother’s sake?”
“I don’t despise you, dammit!”
“Vasili!” Maria admonished.
He sighed. If he was going to lose his temper this soon, he’d never get through the evening. And Alexandra’s smug look was designed to make him lose it again. The little witch. She was deliberately putting him on the spot.
“Forgive me, Mother. Why don’t we assume the subject is exhausted and go in to dinner?”
Maria quickly acquiesced. “An excellent suggestion—except, Alexandra, wouldn’t you like to change first?”
Vasili had never seen a more feigned look of innocence as the one Alexandra wore when she replied, “Change what?”
And his mother accepted it. “Your clothes, dear. We dress for dinner here.”
Alexandra glanced down at herself. “But I am dressed.”
“No, I mean—”
“Give it up, Mother,” Vasili cut in. “I honestly don’t think she owns any dresses.”
“Of course I do,” Alexandra said. “What do you think was in all those trunks we carted here?”
“Whips and daggers,” he said, straight-faced.
She actually laughed. That it was genuine surprised him. It also warmed him and brought a smile to his own lips. Maria wasn’t amused.
Sternly, she said, “We will continue this discussion of clothes tomorrow, Alexandra. For now, Vasili, escort us to the dining room.”
He did, but he wondered if maybe he should have given his mother some previous warning of Alexandra’s eating habits. If Maria happened to insult Alexandra in her shock, the girl could lose her temper with her, and there was no telling where that would lead.
As it happened, he needn’t have worried about it.
He should have recalled that Alexandra rarely took offense about her unusual habits.
And some time actually passed before Maria noticed that Alexandra was eating with her fingers.
When she did, she wasn’t so much shocked as embarrassed, though she wasn’t very careful about broaching the subject. Maria could be direct at times herself.
“Didn’t anyone teach you proper table manners, dear?”
Alexandra shrugged. “I suppose they did, but it’s been so long, I forget.”
“Why didn’t you continue the lessons?”
“You must be joking.” Alexandra laughed. “To deal with so many utensils is a waste of time, when I could be spending that time with my babies instead.”
Now Maria was shocked, and her honey-gold eyes turned on Vasili. “Her babies?”
“Horses, Mother.”
More shock. “You call her babies horses?”
“No,” he replied patiently. “She calls her horses her babies. She breeds them.”
“That isn’t funny, Vasili.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”