You Belong to Me

by Johanna Lindsey

  Constantin's embarrassment was abruptly forgotten. "Nonsense. My daughter and I hap­pen to be very close. She—"

  Vasili cut in. "Perhaps thaf s why she was so hurt by what you did."

  Constantin's furious expression crumbled. "Then she knows there was never any be­trothal?"

  "No, she doesn't. She had already left when my mother told me about your confession. And I chose not to mention it to her. But the betrothal is no longer an issue. I've asked her to marry me, and she's accepted."

  "Then she's happy with you now?"

  "She will be."

  This was said with such determination Constantin couldn't help but believe him. But he had misunderstood.

  "Thank God," he said. "After hearing what your mother had to say about her behavior, I was afraid Alex was never going to accept you, and that was why she finally left. But if she now wants to marry you—"

  "I said she will be happy, Baron. At the mo­ment, she's still brooding over finding out that her sweetheart, Leighton, was a worth­less bastard who never intended to marry her. I've allowed her time to get over him, but once we're married, she'll damn well forget him, I promise you that."

  Constantin was frowning by then. "Are you saying she is merely resigned to marrying you? After all the time you've had with her?"

  "I'm afraid she and I didn't get off to a good start," Vasili admitted. "She didn't want to marry me; I didn't want to marry her. But after I changed my mind—I've spent my life seducing women, Baron. I couldn't bring my­self to seduce the one I'm going to marry. But after we're married, I won't be so con­strained."

  "If she doesn't know that there was never any real betrothal, why doesn't she want to see me?"

  "Apparently she hasn't forgiven you for throwing us together. I, on the other hand, couldn't be more grateful—at least now. You took a lot upon yourself, Baron. If I didn't feel the way I do about Alexandra, I would—"

  Vasili didn't get to finish. Tanya had appeared, and said, "She's coming—oh, I beg your pardon."

  "That's quite all right, Tanya. This is Alex­andra's father."

  The queen nodded, but asked, "And Stefan?"

  "In the chapel," Vasili said.

  "Shouldn't you be waiting at the altar your­self?"

  "In a moment."

  With another nod, she left through the door to the chapel. Vasili was now in the uncom­fortable position of having to ask his future father-in-law to leave. He didn't want Alexan­dra upset again, if she should see him. But once again, his luck wasn't working.

  She was suddenly there, looking so stun­ningly beautiful in the ivory silk wedding gown adorned with white Belgian lace and tiny seed pearls that he'd ordered made for her, she took his breath away. She had no such difficulty. Noticing her father, she turned around and left before he had seen her.

  "Alex!" Vasili called out and started after her. But Constantin was ahead of him. And since the damage was already done, Vasili waited, allowing the baron the opportunity to at least try to make things right with his daughter, and wishing him success.

  Alexandra wasn't going to stop. Those damn tears were threatening again, but she absolutely refused to let them fall this time. She wasn't going to talk to her father, wasn't going to...

  Constantin caught up with her before she got halfway down the corridor. He tried to take her in his arms, but she drew hers back and up as if to say, "Don't touch me," and in fact, she said, "Don't!" And then, with a glare, she fumed, "I can't imagine why you've come here. You certainly don't care enough—"

  "My God, you know that isn't true, Alex."

  His stricken look was choking her, but she wasn't going to be swayed. "That I am here shows how much you cared. I don't think I've ever been more unhappy, and I have you to thank for it."

  "I don't understand. You and Vasili were extremely well suited. You were greatly at­tracted to him. Why didn't you give it a chance?"

  "Because I was in love with someone else—or thought I was. You, of course, will be delighted to know what a mistake that was, just as you always maintained," she said" bit­terly. "But even if that weren't so, it would have made no difference between Vasili and me, since he was against the marriage from the start. The only reason he's reversed his opinion is because he figures he has to marry someday anyway, and he doesn't want to have to bother courting some other woman— not that he ever bothered to court me."

  "That isn't the impression—I don't think thaf s why he's marrying you, Alex. But what is more important here is, how do you feel about him now?"

  "What difference can my feelings make when he doesn't love me?"

  "Then you don't have to marry him," Con-stantin said. "I'll talk to him—"

  "Don't bother. His own mother told him he couldn't marry me, but he wouldn't listen. He's completely reversed his stand. And be­sides, it's too late for you to break the be­trothal, as you should have done. I gave him my word I'd marry him, so the betrothal no longer has anything to do with it. And I will marry him—just as soon as you leave."

  "Alex!"

  "I'm sorry, but I can't forgive you for doing this to me. And—and I have nothing more to say to you."

  She turned her back on him and closed her eyes against the pain welling up inside her. For a long moment there was silence, then his footsteps receding, and that was when the tears started streaming down her cheeks. The lump in her throat felt as if it were going to burst, it was so huge. Oh, God, it was killing her!

  Vasili was suddenly there, his arms gather­ing her against his chest, his voice at her ear, telling her, "I promise you, Alex, I swear it, you will be happy with me. And you're going to want to thank your father one day for bringing us together, so forgive him now. Tell him you forgive him. You won't regret it."

  She was crying loudly by then, and leaning back, she could barely see Vasili through the tears, but what she saw was such concern and caring and sincerity and ... oh, God, what had she done?

  She wrenched herself away from him to run down the corridor, shouting for her father to wait—he had nearly reached the end. And when he finally heard her and turned, she saw that he'd been crying, too, and it tore a sound of anguish from her as she closed the distance and threw herself into his open arms.

  "I'm sorry, Papa, I didn't mean it—I didn't mean any of it!" she wailed.

  "I know, I know. Hush, Alex, it's all right-"

  "It's not. I wanted to hurt you because I hurt, but it's not your fault that he doesn't love me."

  "I think he does, Alex," Constantin mur­mured as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  "He doesn't—but he will," she said fiercely. "I've been feeling sorry for myself when I should have been fighting for what I want."

  Constantin couldn't help it; he laughed at that point. "Thaf s my girl." And all the pain drained out of Alexandra, hearing it.

  She glanced back to see Vasili standing where she'd left him, her golden Adonis, more handsome than words could describe— and he'd just promised to make her happy.

  Her smile was nearly blinding when she looked back at her father. "Will you give me away, Papa?"

  "Then you do love him?"

  "Oh, yes, more than I can say." And with a grin: "Certainly more than he deserves."

  "Then let's not hold up this wedding any longer."

  40

  Soft 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?"

  "If 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 adding, "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 fiance 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 thafs 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?"<
br />
  "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.