Authors: Johanna Lindsey
S
oft candlelight, silk sheets, an extremely thick fur rug before the fireplace. The more Alexandra observed the seductive atmosphere of Vasili’s bedroom, the more annoyed she became as she waited for him to join her. Nervousness, possibly, already had her on edge.
She’d told her father earlier today that she was going to make Vasili love her; however, she didn’t expect miracles overnight. But at least she didn’t feel hopeless about it anymore. Talking with her father had restored her confidence, and also made her realize how completely it had deserted her for a while. She wondered now if her pregnancy wasn’t responsible for some of her moodiness.
She turned away from staring at the fire and found that Vasili had come silently into the room. He was leaning against the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over a maroon robe, staring at her. As usual, his handsomeness made her sigh, the lean lines of his face so perfect, his golden hair in disarray, the hard
planes of his body in evidence. Just how was she going to make this beautiful man love her?
“What did you do with all those mistresses you had spread around this city?”
He lifted a brow curiously. “Are we about to have a fight, sweetheart?”
“It’s quite possible.”
“Can’t you think of something more…interesting to do, since this happens to be our wedding night?”
“If you mean making love, Petroff, believe me, we’ll get to that.”
He burst out laughing. “In that case, you might as well know that I visited each and every one of them while you were endeavoring
not
to become a lady under my mother’s tutelage. And imagine my amazement when not one of them was able to tempt me into her bed. There was nothing left for me to do but pay them off.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?”
His expression turned sensually serious. “You’d better, sweetheart, since the last woman I made love to was you, and considering how long ago that was, I’m rather ravenous.”
Her blush was instantaneous and all the more apparent beneath her white negligee. And she remembered thinking that she was going to demand her rights tonight. She didn’t feel like demanding now, but the stirrings his confession caused insisted that she ask.
“Do you—do you think we could—?”
“God, yes,” he said hoarsely as he took the few steps that separated them and gathered her in his arms. But he didn’t kiss her immediately as he usually did, and his eyes were a soft golden glow as they searched hers. “Alex, there is something I probably should have told—”
“This isn’t the time for talking, Petroff,” she said as she put her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers.
His groan thrilled her. His arms crushed her. And his mouth, his divinely erotic mouth, moved over hers in heated play, his tongue delving, hiding, forcing hers to seek, and she did. Oh, yes, she did. By the time his kisses had moved down her neck on a path to her breasts, her desire was already so hot she could have dragged him to the bed.
For all his being ravenous, he was showing remarkable restraint. Alexandra just didn’t know what it cost him. But he was determined to give her a night she would never forget. And she was determined to get him inside her before she exploded.
They ended up compromising, because he was undone by her saying, “Make love to me now.”
Her gown was divested before he carried her to the bed, and with her hands urging him, urgently guiding him, she had her first climax in moments, with Vasili following her to that coveted pinnacle so swiftly, it left them both breathless and clinging.
And then he had
his
way, and she found out what being lavished with kisses on every part of her body was like—unbelievably nice. His hands were so gentle, almost loving in his caresses. And her breasts, God, they were even more sensitive because of her pregnancy, and he really did adore them, fairly worshiped them with his hands and mouth, until she thought she would scream with pleasure.
She came again with his fingers inside her, because she was aroused so quickly by him, and climaxed so easily to his touch. And when he finally entered her again, it was so very different, so very tender and slow, and all the more glorious when they reached the ecstasy together.
He was incredible, and she pitied all those women who would have to do without him now. She wasn’t going to share this man, not even a little. And as they lay there together, her head on his shoulder, his hand still softly caressing her arm slung across his chest, she wanted to thank him for tonight; and for her, that meant giving from the heart what would please him the most and mean the most to her, and she knew of only one thing that would.
Softly, she said, “I’m giving you Prince Mischa for a wedding gift.” And then, because tears were already gathering in her eyes, she added, “But if you ever hurt him, I’ll take my whip to you.”
He saw the tears before she turned her face
into his shoulder. “Alex, you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
He hugged her fiercely. “Thank you,” he said humbly. “I’ll care for him as if he were my own baby.”
He realized she must have heard him talking to Stefan that time in the stable. But he also realized something else that filled him with joy. There could be only one reason that she would give up one of her beloved horses.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Alex?” he asked gently.
“What?”
“That you love me.”
Her head reared up so she could scowl at him. “Whatever gave you that—”
“Admit it, you love me.”
“I’d be a fool to—”
“You love me! Say it!”
“Why? So you can gloat? So you can—”
“So I can tell you I love you, too. I loved you before you showed your true colors, sweetheart. Why do you think I came after you?”
“I recall what you said at the time, and it had nothing to do with love.”
“Would you have believed me then? I didn’t think so, but you have to believe me now, Alex.”
She was suddenly smiling at him, and he’d never been so dazzled in his life. “I do,” she said, and leaned over to give him a sweet I-love-you kind of kiss, then ruined it by add
ing, “It’s lucky for you I told my father I was going to make you love me.”
“Why?”
“Because I prefer quick successes—otherwise it would have taken you all night to convince me.”
He wasn’t sure if she was serious or not, so he grunted and said, “As long as we’re having these confessions, when were you going to get around to telling me about the baby?”
She gasped. “Dammit, Vasili, you weren’t supposed to guess this soon!”
He laughed at that. “I should have known the first time you ever used my given name, it would be in a complaint.”
She ignored that to demand, “When did you guess?”
“Tonight.” He was smiling with pleasure over her confirmation. “Considering how much I adore your breasts, Alex, did you think I wouldn’t notice the slight change in them?”
There was that blush again. “Don’t think you’re going to ignore me just because you’ve got your heir on the way.”
He winced. “You
would
have to remember I said that.”
“I remember everything you’ve ever—”
“You can’t hold me accountable for whatever I said then, because I was in a state of panic. I really didn’t think marriage would agree with me.”
“And now?”
“And now I don’t think I can do without
it—or you. Ignore you, sweetheart? I think it would be easier to stop breathing.”
She smiled and hugged him, then got the sudden urge to find out what teasing him would be like. “You know, I left a fiancé back in England.”
“You did
what?
”
“A rather chubby viscount who was willing to marry me, baby and all, just to get his hands on my horses. Are you sure that’s not why you married me?”
“Why else?” he retorted. “And how dare you even think about giving my son to another man?”
“Your
daughter
needed a father.”
“My
son
already had one.”
“But you were taking your sweet time finding me.”
“And you were staying in out-of-the-way places so I’d keep losing your damn trail.”
She hid her face in his shoulder again before saying, “Is that what I was doing?”
He looked down at her suspiciously. “Are you laughing, Alexandra?”
She couldn’t conceal it any longer. “It feels so good, fighting with you again.”
“You little witch.” He grinned. “Remind me not to be so gullible in the future.”
“Oh, no, I like you gullible. And I like that little streak of jealousy you have. And I love you flat on your back, naked, where I can—”
“Jesus, Alex, that’s going to get you flat on
your
back again.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
“How about a pretty please?”
“You’re pushing it, Petroff.”
“No,” he said as he came over her, entered her, then grinned down at her. “But now I am.”
Her laughter joined his before their bodies once again rejoiced in finding each other—due to a betrothal that never was.
Johanna Lindsey
has been hailed as one of the most popular authors of romantic fiction, with more than sixty million copies of her novels sold. World renowned for her novels of “first-rate romance” (
New York Daily News
), Lindsey is the author of forty-seven previous national bestselling novels, many of which reached the #1 spot on the
New York Times
bestseller list. Lindsey lives in Maine with her family.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
“One of the most reliable authors around. Her books are well-paced and well-written, filled with strong characters, humor, interesting plots—and, of course, romance.”
Cincinnati Enquirer
“Johanna Lindsey transports us…. We have no choice but to respond to the humor and the intensity.”
San Diego Union-Tribune
“First-rate romance.”
New York Daily News
“Johanna Lindsey has a sure touch where historical romance is concerned.”
Newport News Daily Press
“She manages to etch memorable characters in every novel she writes.”
Chicago Sun-Tunes
“The charm and appeal of her characters are infectious.”
Publishers Weekly
“Long may she continue to write.”
CompuServe Romance Reviews
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This it a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 0-380-76258-7
www.avonromance.com
YOU BELONG TO ME
. Copyright © 1994 by Johanna Lindsey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © JULY 2011 ISBN: 978-0-06-210674-2
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