Bound by Love (7 page)

“Since I have done everything in my power to make you feel welcome at Meadowland, I think it only fair to have an explanation as to why you would take such a dislike to my companionship.”

She ducked her head, hiding her expressive features. “I do not dislike your companionship.”

“Then why do you avoid me?” he demanded. “Is it because I kissed you?”

“You should not have.”

Stefan’s short laugh was without humor. Did she believe that he had a choice in the matter?

“Perhaps not, but that will not halt me from doing so again.”

He felt her shiver and, quickening his pace, he led her around the small pool to climb the steps of the private grotto. Bloody hell, he had to kiss this woman before he went stark raving mad.

She gasped as he yanked her into the shadows of the grotto that was painted with lovely Grecian frescoes, his arms wrapping around her to haul her firmly against his chest.

“Is this why you returned early?” she demanded, her glare at odds with the rapid pulse beating at the base of her throat.

Miss Karkoff might pretend indifference, but she desired him. Her words could lie, but not her body.

“I returned because I could not stay away.” Dipping his head, Stefan buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Jasmine.”

“What?”

“You smell of jasmine.”

She shuddered, her hands lifting to clutch at his shoulders.

“Stefan, what do you want of me?”

“I should think that obvious.” He pulled back to regard her with a grim determination, his fingers easily dealing with the ribbons that held her chip bonnet tied beneath her chin. “But if you wish, I shall reveal precisely what I want of you.”

She made a sound of annoyance as he casually tossed the hat onto the flagstone floor.

“That is my favorite bonnet.”

Heat spread through his lower body, stirring his muscles in sharp anticipation.

“A charming concoction, but as you know I prefer a more natural beauty.” With a few practiced motions he had the pearl studded pins plucked from her hair, allowing the golden curls to tumble over her shoulders. With a low groan, he thrust his fingers through the thick curls. “Silken sunshine.”

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. “You are trying to distract me.”

He brushed his lips over her brow, pausing to nuzzle the pulse hammering at her temple.

“Am I succeeding?”

“Damn you,” she said huskily.

“Such language, little dove. Those lips were meant for a far sweeter purpose.” Framing her face in his hands, Stefan angled it upward, seeking her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.
Mine
, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Parting her mouth with his tongue, Stefan tasted deeply of her sweet innocence, a savage hunger humming through his body. For a moment she went rigid, as if startled by his invasion, then with a sigh, she arched closer to his body and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Yes,” he muttered against her lips, his hands smoothing up her back as he skillfully unhooked the pearl buttons.

He swept his lips over her eyes, the perfect line of her nose, before returning to her pleading lips. At the same moment, he was shifting her arms so he could tug her gown down until it pooled at her feet.

Leonida groaned, pulling back to regard him with dazed eyes. “The servants…”

“Will not trouble us here,” he promised, nuzzling that tender spot at the base of her throat that always made her shiver.

“Do they know this is where you lure hapless women?” she rasped, even as her head tilted back to allow him greater access.

“Hapless?” He laughed as he shifted to press her against the wall, his fingers tracing the scooped bodice of her shift. Her skin was as soft as the finest silk. “You are the most dangerous woman I have ever encountered, Miss Karkoff. The Emperor is wiser than I ever suspected.”

Her breath caught at his accusation. “What do you mean?”

“You are the one with the answers, not I,” he muttered, far more interested in removing her lacy corset than in discovering the truth. The undergarment dropped to the
ground, swiftly followed by her thin shift. She shivered. Stefan wrapped her tightly in his arms. “And until I have the truth from you I intend to enjoy what has been offered me.”

“Stefan…” She gave a startled squeak as he bent his head to take a puckered nipple between his lips. “Oh.”

“Shh, my dove,” he murmured, savoring the sweet taste of Leonida’s skin as he explored the curve of her breast, his fingers stroking down her lower back and over the flare of her hips.

She was tiny, but perfectly shaped, and so exquisitely soft. Flawless. With a muttered curse, Stefan ripped off his cravat and jacket, his waistcoat swiftly following. Then, jerking his linen shirt over his head, he reached to grasp her hands and pressed them to his chest.

“Touch me,” he commanded roughly.

With a tiny groan she arched back to regard him with a troubled gaze.

“I have warned you that I am not my mother.”

He frowned, gripping her hips to press her firmly against his aching erection. This was hardly the moment to chat about her mother.

“So you have said, although I haven’t the least notion what this has to do with the Countess,” he growled.

Her hands trembled, but she did not pull them away from his chest. “You are not the first gentleman to presume I am eager for an affair just because my mother enjoyed such a blatant liaison with the Emperor.”

Just for a moment Stefan’s heart twisted at the sight of the vulnerability that shimmered in her wide eyes. She appeared so damned innocent with her flushed cheeks and her bright curls tumbled about her face. It stirred a protective instinct that sent a chill of alarm down his spine.

He narrowed his gaze as he studied the angelic face that might very well disguise the heart of a viper. He would be a fool to forget that for a moment.

“And you would not be the first woman to return my
kisses with the hope of trapping a duke into marriage,” he smoothly countered.

She blinked, as if shocked by his words. “I would never—”

“And neither would I,” he interrupted, kissing her with a fierce demand. “I desire you,” he rasped, his lips moving down the line of her collarbone. “I ache for you. It is that simple.”

“Dear lord,” she moaned, her fingers skating over his chest as he once again found the tip of her breast to suckle her with a growing insistence. “There is nothing simple about this.”

She was right.

Lust was simple, but this…

Grimly thrusting aside the voice of warning in the back of his head, Stefan nudged her legs apart with his knee, his hand moving over her hip until he could tease the inner skin of her thigh.

She gave a small cry of pleasure and Stefan hastily covered her lips in a smothering kiss. It was not fear of discovery that troubled him; it was fear he might very well shoot anyone stupid enough to walk through the door and interrupt him.

Returning his kiss with an untutored enthusiasm, Leonida dug her nails into his back. Stefan growled his pleasure, his hand seeking the intimate cleft between her legs. She was already damp and his finger slid through the slick folds, a sweet temptation that made his erection pulse with an angry demand for release.

Guided by her soft pants and moans, Stefan caressed her with a growing urgency, goading her to even greater pleasure. She began to stir restlessly in his arms, seeking a relief to the tension he could feel clenching her muscles.

“Easy,” he murmured, grasping one of her wandering hands to press it against his arousal.

He groaned at the raw pleasure. Even through his buckskins he could feel the heat of her fingers as they curved tentatively around his shaft.

Using one hand to guide her fingers over his arousal, he used the other to continue pleasuring her, their rasping breaths the only sound to break the silence of the grotto.

“Stefan…I need…”

“I know, my dove, trust me,” he muttered, barely recognizing the irony of his words.

In this moment he could think of nothing beyond the sight of Leonida’s beautiful face as her eyes widened and her mouth parted in a silent scream of pleasure.

Her first taste of passion, but not her last
, he silently swore.

Struck by her beauty, Stefan was caught off guard when her fingers tightened around him. With a strangled moan, he thrust his hips forward and his powerful release exploded. Gasping for air, he leaned heavily against her, struggling to remain upright as the shattering climax pulsed through his body.

Christ, what had the woman done to him?

W
AITING UNTIL THE DINNER GONG
had echoed through the vast house, Leonida glided through the thankfully empty corridor to slip into the Duchess’s room.

She knew she was taking a risk. Although a large number of the servants would be busy in the kitchens, either assisting with the meal or enjoying their own, there were always a few drifting about the house, their sharp gazes missing nothing.

But what choice did she have? She might try and convince herself that giving in to Stefan’s skillful seduction was the perfect means of keeping him distracted from her true purpose for being in Surrey, but she was not stupid.

Her violent explosion of pleasure had nothing to do with plots or schemes or her loyalty to Russia. She was quite simply incapable of resisting the handsome Duke of Huntley. And every moment that she spent in his company only deepened her fascination.

She had to find those letters and flee before her revulsion for deceiving Stefan overcame her devotion to her mother.

Her decision made, Leonida had sent word to the kitchen that she preferred a tray in her room and, waiting until she was certain that both Stefan and Brianna had gone down to dinner, she had posted Sophy near the stairs and darted through the shadows to the state rooms.

Grasping a candle in her hand, she entered the Duchess’s bedchamber, casting a quick glance around the vast room.

Unlike most of the estate, the Duchess had chosen to
remove the aging wainscoting and replaced it with crimson damask wall panels. The ceiling was molded and trimmed with gilt, and in the center a cut glass chandelier reflected the candlelight with a shimmering beauty. Set near the white marble fireplace, the four-poster bed was draped in emerald-green velvet that matched the cushions on the gilt gesso chairs.

Despite the air of emptiness, the chamber was kept ruthlessly clean, reminding Leonida that a servant might enter at any moment. The quicker she finished her search, the better.

The question was…where to begin?

Beyond the fabulous gilt-framed pictures by Gainsborough and Reynolds that could all possibly cover a hidden safe, there was a pair of mahogany cabinets, a rosewood writing table and a French marquetry pedestal bureau.

And she had not yet entered the private parlor that was just beyond the connecting door.

With a sigh, she moved toward the writing table. Surely it was the most obvious place to begin her search?

Obvious, but fruitless, she soon discovered, finding nothing more than the usual items. Parchment, quills, ink, wax and the Duchess’s formal seal.

“
Mon Dieu
. Where can they be?” she muttered.

She was just moving to the pedestal bureau when the door to the room was pressed open and Sophy was waving a frantic hand.

“The Duke is coming up the stairs,” she hissed. “You must hurry.”

Muttering a curse, Leonida raced across the room, shutting the door behind her. Then, grasping Sophy’s arm, she hurried them both toward her chambers.

“Why does the aggravating man not leave me in peace?” she hissed, as aggravated by the joyful leap of her heart as by his untimely approach.

Sophy snorted, casting Leonida a knowing glance. “Aye, I wonder.”

Leonida blushed. “He is suspicious of my presence in Surrey.”

“Why would he be suspicious?”

“He seems to believe I am here to lure his brother into some plot devised by the Emperor.”

“Ah.” Sophy nodded. “Well, the rumors were that Lord Summerville did put himself at risk on a number of occasions for the Czar Alexander. Perhaps the Duke has cause to worry.”

Leonida’s lips twisted. “If Alexander Pavlovich desires Lord Summerville’s assistance I would be the last person he would send. He rarely even recalls that I exist.”

“Such a man has much on his mind,” Sophy murmured.

Of course he did. Alexander Pavlovich carried the weight of a vast empire upon his shoulders. But that did not lessen Leonida’s sense of abandonment when months, even years passed without a word from the Emperor.

Perhaps it would not have been so noticeable if her mother had been a more…affectionate parent.

Oh, Nadia loved Leonida, but she had no interest in raising a child. Not when she could be devoting her attention to ensuring her place as a leader among society or dabbling in the dangerous games of politics as she sought to protect Alexander Pavlovich’s throne by whatever means necessary.

As a result, Leonida had been raised by her English nurse and a series of governesses who rarely remained more than a few months.

Was it any wonder that she had never truly felt important to anyone?

“Yes, well, we all have a great deal on our minds,” she muttered, pulling Sophy into her parlor and closing the door.

Then, as if she could truly avoid the impending encounter, she continued on to her bedchamber, crossing the floor to stare out the window.

“Do you want me to inform the Duke you’re not receiving?” Sophy asked softly.

Leonida wrapped her arms around her waist. “You are welcome to make the attempt.”

She kept her gaze trained on the distant lake that reflected the fading sunset in muted hues of pink and violet. The beauty spread before her, however, went unnoted as the sound of Sophy’s raised voice echoed through the air, followed by Stefan’s low, composed response.

A grim smile touched her lips as Sophy continued to squabble. The maid was a ferocious protector of Leonida, but she was no match for the Duke of Huntley. He might hide his ruthlessness behind a quiet charm, but it made him no less perilous.

Indeed, he was by far the most dangerous gentleman she had ever encountered.

At last, Sophy fell silent, her anger turned aside by Stefan’s calm, unyielding determination. There was the sound of shuffling feet, then a door closing. Leonida remained poised at the window, a tingle of excitement inching down her spine as Stefan’s spicy male scent filled the room.

“I thought we had put an end to your little games, my dove,” he drawled, his footsteps coming ever closer.

“Games?”

His slender fingers closed around her upper arms, forcing her around to meet his smoldering gaze.

“You cannot avoid me.”

“Obviously not,” she snapped, refusing to acknowledge the thrill of pleasure that darted through her body. “What have you done with Sophy?”

His gaze seared over her stubborn expression. “I requested that she join the other servants so she could enjoy her dinner. It hardly seems fair that she should suffer because her mistress is a coward.”

“I am not a coward, I am simply tired. And since you are so concerned for my maid’s welfare I assure you that I requested that two trays be sent up, so there was no fear she would be sent to bed hungry.”

His lips curled into a humorless smile. “Ah yes, the trays.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not now. I informed Cook that she need not bother since you would be joining Lady Summerville and myself in the dining room.”

“Are you so high-handed with all your guests?”

His fingers skimmed over her lips, which had thinned in annoyance. “Only those who insist on being unreasonable.”

She struggled to breathe. His dark, compelling beauty was overwhelming. Irresistible.

“It is hardly unreasonable to desire a quiet evening.”

“It is when I want your companionship,” he countered, his fingers stroking the line of her jaw.

“And because you are a duke you always get what you want?”

His smile widened with genuine humor. “I always get what I want because I refuse to accept anything less.”

She licked her dry lips, then swiftly wished she hadn’t when his eyes flared with a raw desire that made her heart leap.

“You cannot force me to come down to dinner.”

“Actually I could,” he mocked. “But if you insist on eating in your bedchamber then I will simply join you.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses? You cannot join me.”

“Why not?”

“It would cause a scandal.”

“A scandal for you, perhaps, but as you so recently pointed out, I am a duke and there is precious little that can tarnish my very old and very respected title.” He paused as she shivered, glancing down at her amber silk gown over a silver gauze underskirt. With a frown he moved to collect a matching shawl that she had left at the edge of the bed and carefully wrapped it around her shoulders. “I had forgotten your love for warmth. I shall have a maid light a fire for you while we are at dinner.”

She clenched her teeth, refusing to be touched by his seeming concern.

“Do not pretend that you care for my comfort.”

“But I do, my dove.” His hands lightly circled her neck, his thumb stroking the pulse that pounded at the base of her throat. “I am quite determined to do everything in my power to please you.”

“Except leave me in peace,” she said huskily.

“Is that what you truly want?” He snared her gaze, his expression brooding. “Peace?”

“Yes,” she whispered, even as she knew that was not entirely the truth.

He sensed it as well, his eyes narrowing. “Liar.”

“What do you know of me?”

“Not nearly so much as I intend to know. But I can recognize loneliness when it haunts a pair of exquisite blue eyes.”

With a burst of alarm Leonida pushed Stefan away, turning from his perceptive gaze.

“Do not.”

His hands settled on her shoulders, but he made no effort to turn her around. “Am I wrong?”

“I…miss home.”

“Do you truly have a home, Leonida Karkoff?” he whispered.

Her long-buried pain wrenched through her heart, making her feel annoyingly vulnerable.

Stefan had already seduced her body; he could not be allowed to steal her heart.

“What a ridiculous question. I happen to live in one of the finest houses in all of St. Petersburg.”

He bent his head to whisper directly in her ear. “A house is not necessarily a home, as I have discovered.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as a delicious heat flowed through her body. When Stefan was near she had no fear of being cold.

“You are not happy at Meadowland?”

“I am content…for the most part.”

“Contentment and happiness are not the same.”

“No, they are not,” he said, the hint of wistful yearning tugging at her heart.

Abruptly she turned to face him, her expression wary. Dear lord. What was the matter with her? The Duke of Huntley was the last man who needed or deserved her sympathy.

He was handsome and wealthy and utterly ruthless in getting whatever he desired.

If he was alone, it was by choice, not fate.

“I suppose you will not leave until I agree to join you for dinner?”

Something that might have been disappointment flashed through the blue eyes before his features hardened.

“You are as intelligent as you are beautiful,” he taunted.

“And you, sir, are an arrogant bully.”

He grasped her chin between his fingers, his gaze focused on her lips.

“You have a quarter of an hour, Leonida. If you do not make an appearance then I will assume you are inviting me to share your dinner in bed.”

S
TEPPING OUT OF
L
EONIDA’S
chambers, Stefan placed his hands flat against the wall and sucked in a deep breath.

He was a fool.

Whether it was because he had allowed his anger at Leonida’s attempt to hide from him to impetuously lead him to her bedchamber, or because he hadn’t taken advantage of being there, he had yet to decide.

In either case, he was once again hard and aching with no hope of ready relief.

With a muttered curse, he pushed away from the wall and forced himself to continue toward the servants’ staircase, where he knew Goodson would be waiting for him.

On cue, the uniformed butler stepped from the shadows, regarding Stefan with a stoic expression.

“Your Grace.”

“Well?” Stefan demanded abruptly.

Sensing his employer’s tension, Goodson came straight to the point.

“I could not approach as close as I would like since Miss Karkoff’s maid was standing guard as if she were one of those savage Cossack soldiers.”

“Yes, a most formidable woman,” Stefan agreed dryly. He had thought when he entered Leonida’s rooms he might have to physically toss the protective Sophy out of his path. “What did you manage to see?”

Goodson cleared his throat. “Miss Karkoff left her chamber shortly after you could be heard going downstairs and went directly to the Duchess’s rooms. She remained in there until the maid rushed to warn her of your approach.”

Stefan clenched his teeth, leashing his wave of disappointed fury.

He had already suspected that Leonida had some purpose in suggesting that she and Brianna come to Meadowland. And he was not vain enough to suppose it was an overwhelming desire to be closer to him.