My Angel (56 page)

"I can't what, angel? What can't I do?"

"Force me to stay here."

~ * ~

He stood over her, a devil in black, a brooding expression on his face that did not bode well for Angela. He thought he might lock her in the room if she meant to leave him.

"You can't keep me here," she said once more, almost breathlessly, her anger flaring even while the heat of desire raced like a demon-wind inside her. "I cannot be your mistress." The single word
mistress
was a soft hiss.

Still, he said nothing, his silence provoking her, intimidating her. She wanted to retaliate, to yell at him.

He needed to understand.

He would never understand.

"Can I get her anything?" Natasha asked, poking her head through the door sheepishly.

Angela lay back on the bed, waiting for Alexi to answer in his impervious way, always giving orders.

"Alexi?" Natasha asked again. "Is there anything wrong here? You look angry."

"Nothing is wrong," he said through gritted teeth, his gaze upon Angela turning tender. "Everything is wrong," he whispered so softly only Angela could hear. Then, "Angel? Is there anything my grandmother can get you?''

He was asking her? Suddenly Angela realized her rudeness. "A bath, perhaps. I'd love a nice, long, hot bath."
In steaming hot water scented with jasmine.

"I will send someone up." Natasha slipped from the room, a wide smile flashing at Angela just before the door closed.

Angela's heart raced with anticipation. Alexi sat by the bed, watching her in the strangest way. He held one of her hands in his, his eyes closed. She heard the soft murmur of his voice.

"Heaven help me, I don't want you to leave. Please stay. I don't think I can live without you."

Moisture rose to her eyes, and a lone tear slid down her cheek. "I can't stay," she said. "I cannot live with you under these circumstances. I'd die a little bit each day until there was nothing left of me. I won't let you rob me of my self-esteem and my integrity."

"I see." His voice was a hoarse whisper in the airless room. "It is decided then."

She couldn't breathe. He was but a shadow of himself, his eyes dark and cold; it seemed as if his soul had left him.

"I don't think you do," she whispered slowly, reaching out to him then withdrawing her hand at the sad look he gave her.

"There is nothing more to be said. As soon as you're well you can return home with your father. I release you from any promises you have made to me."

He walked from the room. Her own energy and stamina drained from her. With a desperate moan of self-pity, she rolled to her side. Seeing nothing but a blur of blue flowers on the wall, she let the tears run down her cheeks until she finally slept.

Chapter Nineteen

Morning light stole across the land.

Hands folded in front of her, a heavy weight on her heart, Natasha watched the young woman who seemed to have stolen her grandson's heart. And she felt terrible for the ordeal Angela had gone through in her home.

Angela Chamberlain slept peacefully on the huge bed in Alexi's chamber. She was a beautiful woman, and if the stories she'd heard about Angela were true, she was courageous and headstrong, too. The two of them, Alexi and Angela, suited each other--except in one thing.

Angela was of common stock. The other nobles would never accept her. But the country was changing, on the verge of a revolution, and soon nothing would be the same. Anyone with half a brain could see the inevitable outcome. In a few years' time there might very well be no more nobles, and then what would the status of Angela's family matter?

Soon it would make little difference who married whom.

Natasha had needed her grandson home to put to rights all that her daughter's first husband had ruined. Now she felt guilt-ridden. She was a vain, selfish old woman, clinging to the past. Alexi's future had never been in this land. It still wasn't, but his heart was loyal and true. If she asked him, he would stay here. If she asked it of Alexi, he'd watch Angela walk away from him. He'd watch her because he could not admit he was in love with her.

Yet it was Stephan who belonged here, who thought of
Russia
as Ms home. He loved the land and the people fiercely, with all his heart and soul.

Alexi was deeply in love too. Any fool could see by the way he looked at Angela how much he loved her.

Natasha wondered at that. She had never thought of her grandson as a man who would not love. And his love for Angela should not come as a surprise because he'd always loved too deeply, all-consumingly.

She'd feared for him and his future.

Now all her fears were about to come true. If Angela left, he would never find love.

Angela stirred, pushing the covers away. As Natasha looked at Angela, it was not hard to see the physical beauty that drew Alexi to her. Her wheat blond hair flowed like a silken mantle across the pillows. And she had more integrity in her little finger than Feodora had in her entire body.

Angela was a tiny little thing with a huge heart.

Alexi would feel protective to a fault. Angela could tangle with any man and come out the winner. She had heart, courage and loyalty that knew no bounds.

"How is she?" Sam suddenly appeared by the bed, a brooding expression on his face.

"Fine." Natasha had not heard him enter. Sam always surprised her. He moved too silently and too quickly, unnerving her every time he mysteriously appeared at her side.

"We will leave in two days. Alexi arranged everything, including the use of his ship, the
Mystic.
His father will ensure our safe passage."

"When did Alexi leave?" Natasha asked. She'd seen her grandson's face when he'd left the room a few hours ago, and knew he would not return until Sam and Angela were gone. She knew his heart had shattered at the news. She'd felt his pain to the very core of her heart.

Sam walked to the window overlooking the stables. "This very moment," he said, running his hands through his hair. "If it would do any good, I'd go after the boy, beg him to return and work this out. I don't know the whole story, but I wish I did."

"He can't marry her," Natasha interjected quickly. "You and I both know the only other option is entirely unsuitable for you and for her. She is far too precious to live the life of a mistress. Alexi will come to terms with this situation. He has to. So much is at stake here."

"I would kill him," Sam gritted out, his hands fisted tightly at his sides. "If he's hurt her in any way, I will find him, hunt him down and make sure he pays for any crimes against her."

Natasha smiled grimly. "You could try. You would not succeed."

"One of us would die," Sam went on. "I would have to defend her honor."

"If either of you died, it would make her life even lonelier than it will be now. She loves him."

"She wouldn't have gone with him otherwise,'' Sam agreed, his voice shaking with emotion.

"I have a suitable heiress in mind for him. I vowed I would not interfere, but I have. In time..." Natasha paused long enough to wipe a tear from her cheek. "In time they will both forget." Natasha knew those words for what they were--lies.

She had once loved like that: a love so enduring and so intense she felt it still when she thought of the man who had stolen her heart so many years ago--then married another. She would never forget that, nor could the emptiness inside her ever be filled.

"What will she do?" Natasha asked, realizing Alexi would want to know.

The question was entirely unsuitable, and Natasha knew it. What Angela would do when she returned to
America
was none of her business.

"I would like her to go to school, but I'm afraid she won't have anything to do with finishing school now. She's been on her own, had her adventure..."

"She is a willful lady."

"Yes, she is. Stubborn to a fault."

Natasha moved to the door, tired of speaking in hushed whispers. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, moisture filling her eyes, sadness filling her soul. She suddenly wished
for a different ending to all this, a way to make Alexi happy, a way to heal his broken heart.

He would be devastated when Angela left, when he returned to a home that no longer sheltered his lover. He'd ridden off understanding that Angela would be gone when he returned. Alexi had thought his leaving until then was for the best.

Perhaps it was.

Natasha had no doubt these two were lovers. She also had no doubt that Angela carried Alexi's child. There were signs that only a woman would recognize. Little things.