You Belong to Me (9 page)

“What kind of authority?”

Konrad didn’t mince words. “The same authority a husband would have.”

“Nonsense. I already told him he couldn’t dictate to me, and he didn’t try to prove otherwise.” She didn’t bother to mention that he
had
insisted that he could, in fact, do just that.

“You were still at home when you said it, under your father’s rule. Now you’re not.”

She really didn’t like the sound of this. “It
makes no difference where I was,” she insisted. “He can rail at me and complain all he wants. I’m quite experienced by now at ignoring angry men.”

“An angry father, yes, but not an angry betrothed,” Konrad pointed out. “I hate to say it, Alex, but the two are not the same.”

“All right, damn it,” she practically growled. “Just what are you getting at?”

“What happens if he starts giving you some ‘or elses’ and backs them up?”

Her eyes narrowed at that, but her tone turned excessively dry. “You aren’t by any chance suggesting that the man might try to beat me, are you?”

“Actually—yes.”

“And you’d simply stand around and let him, I suppose? And Bojik wouldn’t rip his throat out if he tried?”

“Bojik isn’t going to be at your heels every moment of the day,” Konrad informed her. “Most nights he’ll be put in the stable, where he is now, since most inns won’t allow him inside. And we aren’t going to be at your side constantly either. We might be able to make the Cardinian regret whatever he does to you, but that would be after the fact. And a king’s cousin, regardless of the less-than-impressive title he carries, ranks higher than any of our princes, and you know how powerful they are. It wouldn’t be all that difficult for him to get us tossed in jail. Hell, he could have us shot, and no one would do anything to him
for it.
That’s
the kind of authority he can wield.”

Alexandra was simmering by now. “Is there a point to all of this?”

Konrad finally grinned at her, now that he’d ruined her mood. “Just don’t get him
too
mad, Alex. Find out your limit and don’t overstep it, even if you have to give in to his demands occasionally—and hope
he
hasn’t realized how much power he has over you now.”

It was too late to hope for that, she was almost certain. And if she had been naive in thinking her friends could protect her in any given situation, they were forgetting that she didn’t do so bad at protecting herself. Give in, indeed. She’d start carrying a horsewhip first.

T
he food had been served, but it sat untouched in front of Vasili. Lazar, who was sharing his table, had no trouble making headway through the plain but filling meal. Vasili was making headway through a bottle of vodka instead.

He’d been angry all day after being unable to get Alexandra to leave those damn wagons behind, but what he was feeling now was a bit more on the explosive side. His anger had escalated when the meal arrived, the girl delivering it barely looking at him, hurrying away, terrified that she might draw his notice. The other wench—he still couldn’t recall her name—had disappeared completely, nor did he expect to see her again. He recognized absolute fear when he saw it. At the moment, he’d like to see it on the face of his betrothed.

It was beyond belief what he’d witnessed, what the entire room had witnessed. Such barbarous behavior, such viciousness. She couldn’t bring her complaint to him, could she? She couldn’t make her threats in private,
as any civilized person would have. She had to demonstrate for one and all what a little savage she was. And this was the woman his father had chosen for him to marry.

Vasili and Lazar had been friends long enough for Lazar to know what was on Vasili’s mind without asking. But he just couldn’t sympathize, and actually was quietly amused. Because of his incredible looks, Vasili
never
had trouble with women, at least not this kind. It would do him a world of good to find out what other men had to deal with from the fairer sex.

“You might as well forget it,” Lazar offered, his tone neutral.

Those golden eyes, presently glowing, came to meet Lazar’s blue ones. “Forget that my bed is going to be empty again tonight, when I had been looking forward to sharing it with that very accommodating wench? Or forget that my betrothed is a walking, breathing scandal?”

Lazar nearly choked as he tried to cut off the laughter that Vasili’s last comment had prompted. “Forget both,” he managed to suggest. “Your bed was filled to its usual capacity nearly the entire trip here, so a little abstinence on the way back isn’t going to kill you.”

Vasili wasn’t so sure of that, considering the way he’d been feeling since last night, but he replied, “Certainly it won’t, but you’re overlooking the fact that my dalliance was for Alexandra’s benefit more than for my own. It
was supposed to enrage her enough to cry off, not to allow her to demonstrate an unexpected tendency toward violence.”

“Or bluffing.”

“I wish I could believe that, Lazar. I really did think exactly that when she first made the threat to do what she did tonight. But she’s done just what she said she’d do if I attempted to entertain myself with another woman—cause an embarrassing public scene. Can you imagine her doing something like that at Stefan’s court?”

Lazar grinned. “Stefan might find it amusing. I know Tanya would.”

“And my mother would collapse from the shock. I have
got
to get rid of the little barbarian before we reach Cardinia. But tell me how I’m to do that when she has effectively taken away one of my better means of accomplishing it.”

“But you do have other means,” Lazar reminded him. “Which, by the way, you can’t put to use when you’re sitting across the room from her.”

“If I were sitting next to her, I would have throttled her by now,” Vasili replied. “I still may.”

He was not exaggerating. While he still felt such a strong urge to wring her pretty neck, he had been avoiding even glancing in her direction. Yet thinking about it, he did just that. He didn’t expect to be astonished, however, or momentarily to forget his anger.

Alexandra had a chicken leg in one hand
that she was waving around as she spoke to her companions. There was a leaf of boiled cabbage in her other hand, a rather large leaf, that she managed to stuff into her mouth with her fingers. She was drinking the wine she had ordered straight from the bottle. Even the bread she ate she dipped into the butter instead of spreading it with a knife. In the five minutes that he stared, utterly amazed, she didn’t once reach for the utensils that lay unused beside her plate.

It came to him then, with swift and thrilling relief, that the answer to his dilemma was Alexandra herself. And it wouldn’t even have occurred to him if he hadn’t just mentioned his mother and the shock she was going to suffer if she had to witness a scene like the one he had viewed tonight. But that and this combined, and heaven knew what else, were going to so revolt his mother, there would be no question of a wedding. She would absolutely forbid it.

“Jesus, Lazar, I may not have to do another thing except take her home and let her dine with my mother. Look at her. She has the table manners of a pig.”

“I’d already noticed, just forbore mentioning it,” Lazar replied, humor in his tone. “I take it you’re not excessively appalled?”

“Are you joking? I couldn’t be more delighted. I’m not going to have to break off this betrothal, and neither is she. If my mother can spend just one day with her, and I’ll make
sure she does,
she
will refuse to let me marry her, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“Are you going to depend on that when Maria’s fondest wish is to see you wed?”

Vasili frowned at that depressing reminder. “A good point. I will proceed as planned, yet I’m happy to say the urgency is gone. I no longer have any doubt that this matter will right itself.”

“You had doubts?”

“I was close to terrified, if you must know,” Vasili said with little exaggeration.

Lazar snorted. “I don’t see why. If you had to take a wife, this one is at least easy on the eyes, full of surprises, which is not a bad thing, and you could always teach her some proper manners. She also glows with good health, which means she’d have no trouble supplying you with a great many heirs.”

“
If
I was looking for a wife, everything you’ve said is true, I suppose. But you’ve left out a few important facts. Alexandra’s attitude happens to really irritate me, I don’t particularly like her, and I can name a dozen women who would suit me better
and
who wouldn’t tell me they don’t want to marry me.”

Lazar couldn’t resist chuckling. “Is that still twisting the screw?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Vasili replied and went on to insist, “Her reluctance was merely a surprise, and as it happens, a fortuitous one. I had been dreading the possibility of having to
deal with her hurt feelings before she got angry enough to call this off.”

Lazar nodded, as if he truly believed that. “Now you’ll earn her eternal gratitude for proving to be so unacceptable to her that she has the excuse she needs to end it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she laughs all the way home.”

That remark had Vasili scowling, though he wasn’t even aware he was doing it, and he still said, “I’m the one who will be eternally grateful that she’s such a backwater provincial. Her father said she was unique, he just didn’t specify how. Do you think those three Cossacks are her lovers?”

The question was so unexpected, Lazar choked, literally, his food going down the wrong way. It took him a full minute of coughing and throat-clearing before he was able to glare at Vasili and say with rancor, “Just because you think nothing of pleasuring three women at the same time doesn’t mean your betrothed would consider trying the same.”

Vasili had meant nothing of the kind and was amused that Lazar thought he had. “Oh, I don’t know. Countess Eva managed four once—or so I’ve heard.”

Lazar blinked. “Four? How?”

“One can only imagine. But that certainly wasn’t what I meant about Alexandra. It takes a degree of sophistication to even think of such amusements, which we can unanimously agree she lacks. I meant individually,
singly—how shall I put this?—one at a time.”

Lazar was glaring again. “Save the sarcasm for the little lady, will you? With me it’s liable to get you a bloody nose.”

Vasili was in the habit of being provocative with his friends regardless of consequences, so he ignored Lazar’s threat as he always did. However, he was too interested in the subject he had introduced to continue needling Lazar as he might have done otherwise.

“Let’s get back to my question, shall we?” he said. “Those three Cossacks might be ugly as sin, but we know how insignificant looks are when there is a need. And it would supply one more reason why she doesn’t want to marry, if she’s got her own studs working for her.”

“Dare I mention that ‘if’ is a supposition?”

“You can mention it, but I wouldn’t buy it—and neither do you.”

Lazar shrugged, inclined to agree after their tour of St. Petersburg. He didn’t think the three burly men were that ugly, however, but that was a moot point. “What does it matter if she’s slept with one of them or all?”

“It doesn’t, except that if she’s going to continue to curtail my amusements, and I have little doubt that she intends to do just that, I’m damned if I’ll allow her any of her own on this trip.”

“I suppose that’s only fair.” Then Lazar grinned, his humor restored. “Do you plan to
threaten them the way she threatened the serving wench?”

“If I have to,” Vasili growled.

And since Lazar had only been teasing, he groaned and said no more.

I
t wasn’t easy to abandon twenty-five years of refined breeding. There were times when a little dirt was acceptable, when one’s job was a dirty job. Then there were times when one had to remain spotlessly clean. Alexandra knew both times very well, but bringing the two together took constant concentration on her part. Her friends weren’t helping in that respect.

Timofee kept looking as if he were going to burst into laughter at any moment. Stenka was teasing Alexandra by copying her actions. Konrad couldn’t keep the disapproval from his expression, but fortunately, he wasn’t sitting where Vasili could see him.

Somehow she managed just fine, and only had one near blunder when she started to reach for her napkin at the end of the messy meal. But she caught herself in time and licked her fingers instead, then wiped her sticky hands on her clothes, mentally grimacing as she did so. It was a nice touch, how
ever. She might even wear the same clothes tomorrow, possibly even longer.

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea at all. By the end of the week, she ought to be reeking. The oh-so-impeccably groomed count from Cardinia would have to stand upwind of her if he wanted to have words with her. She could convince him that she found bathing unhealthy and never bathed more than once a month.

As for convincing, she was sure she’d done a splendid job of it with the meal. She had known to the second, without looking to confirm it, when Vasili had started watching her. It had been a disturbing sensation, to actually
feel
those honey-gold eyes on her. But he had to be disgusted, maybe even revolted. She knew she would have been if she’d been able to watch herself.

Perhaps she went a little too far when she left the common room with her friends, still not glancing in Vasili’s direction, passing near his table yet pointedly ignoring him. Common courtesy demanded at least an acknowledgment of his presence, which she hadn’t given him all evening. He was her betrothed, after all. But for the time being, common courtesy was on the list of prohibitions she had made for herself, and she had to be scrupulously consistent about adhering to it if she wanted her plan to work.

Yet she had to wonder, when he showed up at her door a while later, if that last bit of
rudeness on her part hadn’t goaded him to visit her.

She certainly hadn’t expected his sudden appearance. She was already dressed for bed in one of her plain white cotton nightgowns. Nina had already brushed out her hair and was still mumbling under her breath about the bath she’d ordered that Alexandra had refused to make use of. Nina was presently brushing the dust from their clothes with a few extra grumbles about the food stains she’d been told to leave alone. She didn’t even hear the knock at the door, not that Alexandra expected her to answer it.

She answered it herself, by habit pulling on the dark blue velvet robe that had been laid out for her. Modest by nature, she was grateful for the robe when she saw who stood there. She even drew the garment closer to her throat and held it there with both hands, a reflexive defense against the potent masculinity that exuded from the man who was her betrothed.

He said nothing at first, his eyes moving slowly over her—they seemed lighter in color than she remembered—finally resting on her hair, which flowed over her shoulders in shining waves. Those few moments of silence unnerved her, and she was further unsettled when it seemed he had to force his eyes away from her to scan the room.

When he saw Nina, he said to her, “Your mistress and I require a few minutes of privacy.”

Nina responded to his commanding tone with a quick nod and headed straight for the door. Alexandra bristled at his presumption
and
her friend’s defection. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with him, especially after all those gloomy predictions the Razins had made.

So her voice was a bit sharp when she said, “You don’t have to leave, Nina.”

No one paid her the least attention. Vasili stepped into the room, held the door for Nina’s exit, and closed it behind her. Alexandra considered shouting before Nina got out of earshot, for her not to go far, but that smacked too much of cowardice.

Besides, whatever worry she felt was overridden by pure annoyance, which was unmistakable in her tone. “Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow, Petroff?”

His eyes came back to her. Were they even brighter now? Impossible.

“No, it can’t wait, not if I’m going to get any sleep,” he replied as he took the step that narrowed the distance between them and forced her to tilt her head if she wanted to maintain eye contact with him. “You do want me to get some sleep, don’t you, Alexandra?”

His tone sounded too ominous by half. “Are you actually assuming it matters to me one way or the other?”

“It should.” His tone became even softer. “You see, I’ve just discovered I’m rather perverse and selfish in that respect. If my needs
aren’t seen to, why, then, I ask myself, should yours be?”

Alexandra hated to say it, but had to. “Are we talking about sleep?”

“Are we?” As he said it, he reached for a lock of her hair that rested on her shoulder, and rubbed it between his fingers. “So this is what it looks like,” he added to himself. Spun moonbeams came to mind.

Vasili wasn’t sure what he was doing. Anger had brought him here and it was still with him, but now it was more self-directed, and not the only emotion he had to deal with. That damn dinner. He’d never forget it, and how he’d gone from fury to satisfaction and back to fury again, ending up furious with himself rather than
her
.

He shouldn’t have continued to watch Alexandra and her appalling eating habits. He should have taken his satisfaction and relief to bed with him, and the serving wench, too, despite the fact that he no longer found her appealing. But he hadn’t left the common room soon enough. And so he’d witnessed the very sensual way Alexandra had licked her fingers, which had instantly stirred his senses to vibrant life.

He’d groaned then. He groaned again now, though silently, because he still didn’t have his desire under control. It was intolerable that he could want her again when he despised everything about her: her manners, her morals, her apparent vicious tendencies.

He recalled those vicious tendencies and
that embarrassing scene he had suffered through, and remarked none too pleasantly, “What a little savage you are, sweetheart.”

Alexandra should have been pleased, delighted, even laughing over his derision, so she had no business blushing, yet that was what she was doing. And it got worse when he added with a deliberate sneer, “Tell me, do you bring that kind of passion to your bed?”

Stiffly, she replied, “You don’t expect me to answer that, do you?”

“Maybe I expect to find out firsthand.”

Had she been blushing before? She could swear she was giving off steam now.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be in such a hurry to seal our fate.”

He cocked a brow at her in a look that was designed to provoke by its very arrogance. “Is that remark supposed to be pertinent to anything?”

“You’d be forcing this marriage, which would put an end to any mind-changing for either of us.”

He actually laughed before he told her, “Don’t be absurd, Alex. What’s one more lover to you when you’ve already had so many?”

By his expression, she realized he wasn’t merely trying to offend her this time. He really believed what he’d just said—which gave her a horribly contradictory feeling. She was glad, she truly was, that he could think such a thing about her, because it could aid her own plan. So why did she feel insulted?

She tried, desperately, to change the subject by picking one word out of what he’d just said. “Only my friends get to call me that,” she stated, in reference to the “Alex” he’d used.

His smile was condescending, as if he were about to explain something to a simpleton. “But I’m more than a friend. I’m soon to be your husband, with all the rights that entails. Shall we have a demonstration of some of those rights?”

“The only demonstration you’ll be giving is how to leave a room in a hurry. You can begin now.”

His answer was to grab her shoulders and slowly pull her toward him. The unexpected move brought her hands away from her throat to brace flat against his chest so she could push. Her effort was useless. He didn’t budge.

Only he noticed that her robe fell open. With her excessively modest nightgown it shouldn’t have mattered, and it wouldn’t have if she didn’t have such large breasts that were no longer hidden beneath her arms. His eyes were drawn to the unbound pair instantly.

He drew her closer to him. Her braced arms were actually bending…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Petroff?” she demanded, grateful not to hear the panic she was feeling in her voice.

He heard it, and ignored it. “I’m thinking I’m going to find out what you taste like.”

“No!”

Her refusal wasn’t too late, it was merely ignored. His strong arms were drawing her so close now that she was flush with his body, feeling more of it than she’d ever hoped to feel. And warm lips took care of any more protests she’d been about to make, at least temporarily. Shock took care of the rest.

Not once had she considered that this might be one of the dangers of this trip. How could she have, when she knew exactly how Vasili felt about marrying her, and he knew she felt exactly the same? Yet here she stood, wrapped in his arms, being kissed by him. The shock came from discovering immediately that Christopher hadn’t taught her all there was to know about kissing, as she’d naively thought.

She’d been thrilled with Christopher’s kisses because she loved him, but the truth was, he knew next to nothing about kissing compared with this man. This man consumed her senses and controlled every one of them, and not just with his mouth, but with his body. The hand he placed on her back kept her from retreating from the slow rub and press of his chest, which gave her the oddest feeling, as if her breasts were being caressed and kneaded by turns. The position of his other hand on the soft curve of her behind was even worse, lifting her as it did until the hard bulge of him was settled directly at the juncture of her legs. She was assailed on every sensual front, overwhelmed by sensations newly discovered, and
all the while his tongue made a deep, erotic foray into her mouth to complete the destruction of her will.

Vasili was no less caught in the storm of his own creation. What had started as a means to coerce her into backing down from her threat of public scenes became something else entirely. The second he felt the weight of those luscious breasts against him, she became simply a very desirable woman. And Vasili never denied himself desirable women, especially when a bed was near at hand and the door firmly closed…

The door opened abruptly, slammed open, actually. Vasili and Alexandra separated just as abruptly, she in somewhat of a daze, he scowling at the intruder.

“Sorry,” Nina offered for the noise, but the reason for it was apparent when they noted she had her hands full trying to restrain the huge wolfhound that was determined to charge Alexandra with a greeting. “He was whining and disturbing all the horses,” she said by way of explanation for Bojik’s presence.

It was a blatant lie and Alexandra knew it, so she forgave Nina for her earlier defection—until the girl added, albeit innocently, “He’s not going to be happy until he’s sleeping with you, Alex.”

They all three blushed within seconds after that last statement, each of them thinking of a “he” other than Bojik—and that they were all
thinking the same thing, and knew it, made it so much worse.

Alexandra went down on one knee to summon her pet, and the way he flew out of Nina’s grip proved how little control she’d actually had of him. Alexandra hid her hot cheek against Bojik’s neck as she said frostily, “Good night, Petroff. And in the future, if you wish to speak to me, you will do so in public, at a decent hour.”

“Don’t count on it—Alex.”

After the door closed again, loudly, Nina remarked in a subdued tone, “You’re lucky you didn’t see his face when he said that.”

Alexandra glanced up now, but still made a quick scan of the room to assure herself he was really gone, before she asked, “Why?”

“Because as expressions go, his said he meant it.”