AWAKENING THE SHY MISS

by Scott, Bronwyn

  Dimitri cocked a brow. ‘You’re a greedy miss.’ But he complied.

  * * *

  Boots, trousers and smalls fell to the ground, but Evie spared no glance for them. Her eyes were rooted on the sight before her—naked man in his most natural state. There was no robe, no rush, no hurried pleasure to get in the way of her enjoyment. It was as if his entire body was designed to draw her eye to the centre of him, the very core of his masculinity. The lean taper of his waist, the sculpted ridges of his muscles all led to his proudly jutting manhood, strong and large and...promising, as she knew it would be. It was perhaps one of the most primal sights she’d ever seen.

  ‘Do you like what you see?’ Dimitri’s voice was a low, seductive prompt.

  ‘I do.’ Her own voice was little more than a reverent whisper. ‘It’s beautiful.’ No wonder mamas cautioned their daughters to keep their eyes on a gentleman’s face. If daughters knew what lay beneath a gentleman’s clothes, London parties might indeed be quite different. They’d certainly be less boring.

  ‘Evie?’ The word was softer now, not a command but a question. She heard the unspoken question: Why him? Why now when there were limits on what they could be together?

  ‘Signs of life,’ Evie whispered. ‘I feel more alive with you right now than I ever have before.’ And might ever feel again. It was both a joy and a fear to feel this way.

  Dimitri’s forehead came down to rest against hers. ‘That might be up for debate. I think you could very well be the death of me, Evie Milham.’ They stood that way for long moments, foreheads touching, her hand about his shaft, simply together. Evie thought the moments were quite possibly the most peaceful moments of her life, their serenity transcending the usual calm. She would have been content to stand there for hours. But Dimitri had other ideas. His voice whispered low at her ear. ‘Now, it’s your turn. I want to see you. Take off everything.’

  Evie stepped back from him, giving his gaze full access to her, her own gaze locked on him, both of them realising the solemnity of the occasion, the beauty of a woman disrobing for her man for the first time. She gave the robe a shrug, sending it down her body in a slide of silk. This had stopped being about discovering what men and women did together and had become discovering what Evie and Dimitri could do together, what they wanted together. She wanted to be naked with him. She did not worry if she was pretty enough, well made enough to match such a perfect man. She was. The look in Dimitri’s eyes as the robe slipped down her body held her answer.

  ‘I was not wrong when I thought you were a Botticelli goddess.’ She felt his eyes sweep over her. His gaze lingered on her lips, her breasts, her belly, and lower still to the russet valley between her legs. Her own heat rose in response to his gaze, a tingling warmth spiralled outward from her core. ‘It is such a difficult decision,’ Dimitri murmured, ‘to choose between stepping forward and touching you with my hands, or touching you with only my eyes.’

  It was not a difficult decision for her. Evie knew precisely what she wanted. She stepped towards him, arms encircling his neck. ‘Touch me with your hands, Dimitri, with your mouth.’

  A small grin settled on his lips. ‘As you wish.’

  Dimitri Petrovich knew how to make a girl burn. It started slowly enough with a kiss at her collarbone, another at the notch of her neck, but the kisses didn’t stop there. It might have been the hard kiss on the mouth that undid her, she did so love those, or it might have been the warmth of his hand sliding up her rib cage to cup her bare breasts, his thumbs running over her nipples in tantalising strokes. It wasn’t important that she decide. She only knew she was grateful for the support of his body since her own bones were no longer interested in doing the job.

  ‘We’re going to need a bed.’ His voice was gruff with his own desire. ‘There are other ways I want to kiss you, other places.’ She knew those other places. They were already weeping in memory and in anticipation of having that memory renewed.

  She managed a coy whisper. ‘I once wondered what sort of man slept in the decadent bed beyond the curtains.’

  ‘Come find out. Come to bed with me, Evie,’ he murmured against her ear.

  Part of her wished he’d carry her and part of her understood he couldn’t. This walk to the bed made it her choice to be there, her choice to lie among the silken pillows. He came down beside her, stretching out the length of his body.

  He moved over her, his mouth and hands making one of his slow trails down her body, kissing, licking, sucking until a moan escaped her and she arched up, her body recognising he had no intentions of stopping. What had once been the culmination of their pleasure would now merely be foreplay to something grander.

  He moved to her navel, feathering it with a kiss before his mouth kissed the nest of her, the kiss a supplicant’s offering to the altar of her feminine core. Evie shifted beneath him, giving him access, knowing what came next. Only today, it didn’t come.

  He came up over her instead, his eyes a glittering obsidian. ‘I have it on good authority passion is to be shared. Today, we’ll take our pleasure together.’ He was entirely the Cossack warrior as he looked down at her, wild and untamed, granite hard, his arms braced at her head, muscles flexing as he lifted above her. It was not his mouth but his manhood at her entrance, pulsing and hard.

  She arched up again, inviting, assuring him of entrance, of reception. This was what she wanted. From the feel of it, he wanted this too. He pushed forward, big and thick and strong, she remembered all too well how very large he’d been in her hand. But his progress was steady and her body was sure where her mind doubted. Her body shifted, adjusted, accommodated, granting entrance inch by inch until there was no more sting of pain, no more discomfort and he was well seated in her. A victorious smile took her face. She had all of him.

  ‘That is just the beginning, Evie,’ he whispered, his body starting to move; rocking slowly, his shaft retreating and returning only infinitesimally at first, each thrust took him out further from her core, only to come into her harder upon his return. Not unlike the tide, she thought somewhere in the recesses of her mind where cognition still lived, nearly extinct.

  He was indeed a tide, a crashing, erotic tide that came to her hidden shores, withdrawing to only crash again and she welcomed each crash, each wave of his advance breaking against her shore, each wave larger than the last, pushing them towards some unseen destination with each sweep. There would be exquisite pleasure at the end, she knew this now, but this pleasure was far more intense, far more encompassing than the little pleasure of his mouth that had preceded it. Her hips drove into his, her body eager to claim that pleasure, unsure how much more she could withstand. They had reached pleasure’s limits and then exceeded them.

  Above her, Dimitri’s muscles strained with the effort. He gave a guttural utterance, part-agony, part-ecstasy. She cried out, unable to hold back. They were pushing boundaries now, her legs wrapped about him, holding on to him, the only anchor she had. He thrust once more, hard and complete and deep, and they broke, together; her cries, his groans mingled with the half-choked sobs of disbelief and wonder that they’d been to these far shores and they had survived. What came next didn’t matter.

  * * *

  Dimitri Petrovich was the most beautiful man alive, even when he was asleep. She didn’t envy him his sleep. She was the lucky one. She got an unadulterated, unlimited look at him—her lover. Evie stared unabashedly, memorising every angle of his face from the straight plane of his regal nose to the sharp slant of his cheekbones. She wanted to hold these moments in her mind. Perhaps later, she would draw them, capture this man on paper. She wanted to capture the essence of him. He was more than the sum of his handsome features. Did others see that when they looked at him or did they see only the Prince? A man capable of carrying the burdens of many on those broad shoulders. Did anyone see just the man? There was a furrow between his eyes eve
n when he slept that proved he was human after all.

  Out of reflex, she reached a finger to smooth it away. Whatever had been bothering him when he’d entered the pavilion was bothering him still. She would erase those cares for him if she could, if she knew. What other burdens did he carry? She wanted to know. She wanted to know it all. In the wake of the physical intimacy between them another craving for another kind of intimacy had sprung up. She wanted to know him: the little things like his birthday, his favourite colour, his favourite drink, and the big things too. He’d shared about his baby sister, about how much his family meant to him. She wanted more of that. She would carry his burdens with him.

  Dimitri stirred beside her, waking up slowly. He smiled at the sight of her. ‘Have I slept for long?’ He reached for her, tucking her close against him, and she went willingly into this new, easy physicality of being close to him.

  ‘Not long.’ She pushed his hair back away from his face.

  ‘Are you all right, Evie? You look, ah, what is the word? Pensive?’ He smiled sleepily and her stomach flipped with longing. If she wasn’t careful, he would break her heart without meaning to. She had her precautions in place, she’d been through all the warnings to self before she’d decided to leap, but now that she’d leapt, those precautions were flimsy barricades against a look, a touch, the memory of his lips on her and the pleasure that followed.

  ‘I am wondering what causes you to frown when you sleep.’ She traced the line between his brows with the tip of her finger.

  ‘Was I frowning? I’m sorry.’ He sighed. She had the impression he was debating what to say next, what to tell her. ‘I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone, not even your family.’

  Evie lifted up on one arm, hair falling over one shoulder. Now she was worried. ‘This sounds serious?’

  ‘It might be. I think there’s a thief at the site. A few more items have gone missing since the comb and the hair clips.’

  This was horrible news. ‘Who?’ Evie sputtered.

  Dimitri chuckled. ‘If I knew, I wouldn’t be worried. I have a plan, though, and I am certain the thief will be brought to justice before long. I just wanted you to know. You should be aware of any strange behaviour in cataloguing, of anyone who might approach you with a request to look at the collection, and perhaps you might encourage everyone to be extra-vigilant about locking things up at night.’

  ‘You think it’s someone here, then?’

  Dimitri sighed. ‘I suppose it’s possible there are two different thieves. The spearheads went missing right after the lords’ visit. Perhaps someone took them on a lark as a souvenir. But the hair clips and comb were missing long before then. If I had to guess, I would say it’s someone here.’

  Evie’s heart sank. That meant it was an Englishman, a workman hired in good faith by Dimitri in an attempt to bring labour to the area. It was a cruel way to repay his kindness. ‘I’m sorry.’ She smoothed back his hair, wishing she could smooth away his cares just as easily.

  ‘We’ll catch him, but, Evie, you must say nothing or he might become alert to us and that would ruin the plan,’ Dimitri cautioned.

  Evie snuggled down next to him. ‘Thank you for telling me. You can tell me anything. You don’t have to be the Prince with me, you know.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ His arm tightened around her, holding her close. She loved the possessiveness of that gesture, of knowing that she was all his.

  ‘That you take too much on yourself,’ she murmured.

  She let herself doze a while after that, savouring the warmth of Dimitri’s body until she could no longer ignore that lateness. Shadows were falling outside, the summer dusk rapidly speeding towards true dark.

  ‘I’ll take you home.’ Dimitri stirred, reading her thoughts. He sat up and rolled out of bed. He padded out of the room, giving her a glorious view of his backside in consolation, and came back with his clothes. He pulled on his trousers and flashed her a smile. ‘It’s getting late. Your parents will worry. We need to get you home.’

  There was some irony in knowing that they had to be more careful than ever now that the act was done. She would not trap him into an impossible situation that would rob both of them of their happiness. And yet she couldn’t help but feel she was already home, that home might always be wherever Dimitri was.

  Chapter Twenty

  He could tell her anything? The invitation was like a knife in the heart as he drove Evie home, her body close to his on the narrow bench of the gig as the sun slowly set. He couldn’t possibly take her up on that generously made offer. When had anyone ever asked to share his burdens? Or seen that he had burdens to share? But Evie had. She’d always seen beyond the Prince to the man beneath, even that first day in the street when May had pressed the invitation on him.

  Evie deserved so much more than he could give her. She deserved to be swept off her feet, deserved to be loved for who she was, deserved to live a happy life in the comfort of Little Westbury. She deserved the perfect happy-ever-after with a perfect man. What she’d got was him. How could he tell her that part of returning home to Kuban included marriage to a woman he’d never met? But how could he keep it from her now? Originally, that piece of his life hadn’t mattered. He’d told her from the start he had to leave. He’d even told her about his sister. The other reasons were irrelevant. They didn’t change anything, so why share them? But now he’d taken Evie to bed and that act had changed everything. It had changed him.

  He had made love today for the first time and it had rendered him speechless. Not just sex, but love, earth-shattering, mind-blowing love that left him exhausted and sated, and with a clarity that had him upending the world as he knew it. In the clarity of post-coital release, he’d known without question what he wanted just as he had that night in the conservatory. He wanted Evie. Evie had been beautiful in her passion, her body arching, her hair falling, her little moans, her sobs of surprise as pleasure caught her. She’d given him all of herself, body and soul.

  When he’d awakened and seen her beside him, a wave of contentment had rolled through him, fierce and primal. What would she say to these thoughts if he spoke them out loud? What would she say if he told her he’d give it all up, that he’d find another way to save his sister? For the first time in his life, he was a coward. He was afraid to find out.

  So here they were, driving to Evie’s house in absolute silence while he debated what to say and came up empty. The silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, no silence with Evie ever would be. It was one of her many gifts. A person could be silent in her presence and not feel awkward. Maybe they would have driven in silence anyway. Her own thoughts had to be as far flung as his and there was much about the evening to appreciate without talking; the last of the summer light was fading, the sky was a lovely shade of purples and blues, stars piercing the twilight while crickets began to chirp.

  He opened his mouth, looking for a way to begin, but he’d waited too long. Now that he had something to say, it had to keep. They were nearly at Evie’s house and someone was there. A carriage was parked outside.

  He felt Evie’s hand tighten on his arm as she whispered, ‘It’s Andrew.’

  He felt as pale as Evie looked. ‘It seems we’re to have a welcoming committee.’

  ‘I didn’t plan this. He’s not supposed to be here,’ Evie said as he came around to help her down.

  ‘Evie, I won’t let anything happen to you.’ Dimitri reminded himself Andrew knew nothing. What could he know? This drama was irrational. But should it become necessary, he would do whatever had to be done. Evie would not be shamed.

  ‘No, stop, Dimitri.’ She pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Do not make promises. I understood exactly what I was doing and what the risks were when I stepped inside your pavilion today. You do not need to atone for any of my decisions.’


  Did she not understand the seriousness of this? Her very answer was an affront to his honour. They might have agreed in the heat of the moment not to create expectations. But if others had expectations, those would have to be met, especially if those expectations cast aspersions on either of their characters.

  Evie gave him a stubborn stare. ‘I mean it, Dimitri. No gallantry is required. We’ll start with “we were working late” and take it from there. Agreed?’ Perhaps he hadn’t been too far from the truth when he’d said she’d be the death of him.

  They found her parents and Andrew on the veranda, enjoying tea and biscuits and a tray of fresh fruit. Apparently there’d been seed cakes from the looks of the crumbs. Sir Hollis must have relented. ‘There might have been some left for you if you’d been earlier.’ Andrew’s tone was sharp, his eyes hard blue stones. He glared at Dimitri. ‘Early bird gets the worm and all that, old chap.’

  ‘We were working late.’ Evie took a seat on a wicker sofa, smoothing her skirts under her, her own tone a little too bright. Would anyone notice? Was he being too critical? ‘A particularly fine pair of artefacts has gone missing and I wanted to find them.’

  ‘And did you?’ Andrew asked, his gaze intent on Evie. Dimitri began to worry. Now that he looked at her, perhaps someone could tell what she’d been up to. Her lips were pink and slightly puffed, her face was soft, her eyes had a certain indefinable quality to them, the way a woman’s face looks after she’s been well loved. Perhaps in the dusk she could fool her parents. He doubted she’d fool Andrew. The only hope they had was if Andrew fooled himself. He’d been so adamant in the past that Evie Milham was of no interest, perhaps he’d find it hard to believe anyone else would feel differently.

  ‘Where did you look?’ Dimitri didn’t care for the edge in Andrew’s voice. He had to get Andrew out of here before things took a turn for the worse. ‘Did you look in Dimitri’s pavilion?’