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Prince Voronov's Virgin

Page 14

by Lynn Raye Harris


  His lips found the tender skin of her neck, and she sighed helplessly. How could she reject this pleasure?

  There was something about this man, something about the way she felt when he touched her, that she could not deny. He turned her inside out, made her skin seem too tight and thin to contain what she felt for him.

  Was this what it felt like to be in love?

  Love. The word cracked in her brain like thunder over the Gulf of Mexico. How many times had she cowered from the power of those sonorous blasts as a child? She wanted to cower now, to hide her head in the sand and make the noise go away.

  Love.

  She could not love him. She didn’t know him well enough, even if her heart insisted that she knew everything she needed to know. He was driven and strong and he felt things deeply. And he’d made her his wife because he would never abandon his child.

  But there was still the matter of his deception. He’d set out to seduce her with a goal in mind. He’d not actually asked her for information that night, but she told herself it was because he’d learned what he needed during his endless phone calls instead.

  “You are thinking about something,” he murmured against her cheek.

  It surprised her that he knew. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what it is.”

  “I’m wondering why you’re here.”

  “I’m here because you are my wife.”

  She settled her palm on his cheek because she could not help but do so. He turned into her hand, kissed her skin. “I want to believe that,” she said.

  “Then believe it.”

  Her pulse throbbed in her throat, her temples. “I can’t.”

  His gaze clouded. “What is this all about, Paige?”

  “What’s it about? How can you ask me that? You know what it’s about!”

  He sat up with a sigh. She scrambled into a sitting position. Part of her was cursing herself for opening her mouth, and another part was urging her on.

  “I wish to make love to you, and you wish to talk.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Yet I suppose I deserve it.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in three weeks,” she said. “And now you’re here, kissing me and scrambling my brain—”

  “I scramble your brain?” He looked supremely satisfied.

  She folded her arms as if to shield herself. “You know you do. If you didn’t, I doubt we’d be here now. I would not be pregnant, and you wouldn’t have had to marry me.”

  He was moving toward her again, sliding her back against the seat once more. “I am liking this idea that I make you forget yourself,” he purred.

  She put her hands against his shoulders, though she did not push him away. “You do, and now you’re making me forget that I’m upset with you. You left me all alone in a strange country with no friends, not to mention dragging me from my home in the first place. And you tried to seduce information out of me.”

  He kissed her throat. “I did not try to seduce information out of you,” he murmured. “I intended to do so, but I forgot all about it in my desire to bed you.”

  Her eyes closed and she bit back a moan. Concentrate. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I don’t see why not.” He flexed his hips against her, his glorious hardness pressing into her sensitive core. “This does not lie, maya krasavitsa. I wanted you then and I want you now. But I am sorry I hurt you.”

  “Are you really?”

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her. The expression on his face was intense, solemn. “Da, I am. I should have never attempted to use your connection to Chad.”

  She couldn’t say why precisely, but she believed him. She simply knew it in her soul that he meant what he said. Her heart swelled until she hurt from the intensity. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say it.”

  “I am not perfect, Paige, but I admit when I am wrong.”

  He lowered his head to kiss her again, but Paige braced a hand against his chest. “One more thing.”

  One eyebrow arched in question.

  Paige swallowed. But she would not be stopped. She deserved to know. “I want to know what your relationship with the countess is.”

  He answered without hesitation. “She was my mistress very briefly, and that was quite some time ago.”

  “You were not with her when we were first together?”

  “No.”

  “She said she saw you in Moscow recently. You told her about me.”

  He grinned, and her heart flipped. “And you would prefer I kept you a secret?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Countess Kozlova is a vain, shallow woman,” he said. “She means nothing at all to me, and never has. Does this satisfy you?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  He looked suddenly very serious. “Because the truth, Paige, is that I have not been with another woman since the night I was with you.”

  She was stunned into temporary speechlessness. “But—but…I saw you. That actress—”

  He flexed his hips and sent a current of sensation arcing through her body. “She was quite disappointed, I assure you.”

  He lowered his head, his lips touching hers gently, a light skimming of flesh against flesh. “I have been unable to think of anything but that night we shared, the night we created a baby,” he murmured. “There has been no one but you since that night.”

  Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. It was so close to what she wanted to hear from him, and yet not close enough. But how could she reject him now? How could she say no when this was a beginning? It was possible, wasn’t it, that they could build a relationship together if only they tried?

  Suddenly she wanted more, wanted to feel if he was real and this moment not simply a figment of her imagination. Would she wake soon, hot and throbbing and disappointed?

  She wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss first, but it soon turned erotic, sizzling, a meeting of lips and tongues and teeth that was so deep and thorough Paige thought she might combust at any moment. And then his hand skimmed down her silk-clad form until he reached her ankle.

  He caught her hem, inched her dress up, his fingers sliding over her calf, along the inside of her knee, her thigh. Paige whimpered as his thumb brushed across the silk of her panties. Sparks of sensation ignited in her belly as moisture pooled between her thighs.

  “Alexei—”

  “No more words, Paige. Just feel. Just enjoy.”

  When he sat up and removed her panties, she could only hold her breath and wait for what he would do next. Did he truly intend to make love in the confines of the car as it moved through the city? The idea was wicked, exciting. She felt as if she should protest, and yet she craved his touch. She wanted to see what he would do next, wanted to feel every sensation he could give her. It’d been too long since she’d felt close to anyone, and she longed for the contact. Deprivation had made her reckless, she decided.

  But when he slid his hands beneath her buttocks, she instinctively closed her legs. Was it modesty or fear? She wasn’t certain. Without a word, Alexei eased her thighs open and settled between them. Paige held her breath, her heart thundering in her ears with anticipation.

  The instant his mouth touched her hot center, her back arched off the seat and she gasped out his name.

  He was relentless, bringing her to stunning climax again and again until she begged him to stop. Her body was so sensitized that she couldn’t take any more.

  But she wanted more. She wanted him, inside her, taking her to the heights of sensation with nothing but skin and heat between them.

  She wanted him with a hunger she’d never imagined possible.

  Alexei pulled her dress back down and settled into the seat beside her as if nothing had happened. She lay against the door frame, her chest heaving, her body singing, and felt disappointment seep through her that he had not continued.

  “What about you?” she
asked when she could manage to string two words together.

  His silver eyes glittered, the corners of his delicious mouth turning up in a wicked grin. “Do not worry, maya krasavitsa, this night is far from over.”

  As if he’d planned it to the second, the car rolled to a stop. Paige sat up and smoothed her dress before the door could open. A moment later, the chauffer held the door while Alexei helped her out of the car.

  “But this is a hotel,” Paige said as they walked through the glass carousel into the soaring lobby.

  “Da. I keep a suite here, for when I need to be in the city.”

  He led them over to a private elevator and slipped a card through the reader. When the door opened again, it was onto a suite decorated in sleek cherry and steel, sparkling glass and plush leather.

  Alexei swept her into his arms and carried her over the threshold. It was romantic, but she told herself not to read anything into it. It was impatience, not romance, that had him carrying her into the bedroom and setting her on the floor before he located the hidden zipper at the side of her gown.

  Their clothes disappeared in quick fashion, and then they were tumbling onto the bed and Alexei was thrusting into her body. There was nothing between them this time, no barrier, and the sensation was exquisite. His hard flesh fit her so perfectly that a tear slipped down her cheek.

  It was only the second time they’d made love, and yet it felt as if they knew each other’s bodies as intimately as lovers of a dozen years. They moved in tune, as a single entity, his thrusts matching hers, until the explosion that happened was so exquisite, so extraordinary, that they both cried out with the power of it.

  Afterward, they lay tangled together, their bodies sweating, their breaths cooling their skin, and let their hands wander over each other.

  “You are extraordinary,” Alexei said sometime later.

  Paige sighed contentedly. She didn’t feel extraordinary. She felt…peaceful, as if she’d been swirling in a vortex and had finally landed on solid ground. “I feel very ordinary,” she replied, yawning.

  Alexei toyed with her nipples. Sharp, sweet sensation spiked through her, pooling in her core.

  “Your breasts have grown bigger,” he said softly.

  “They are more sensitive, too.”

  “I had noticed this.”

  She pushed back until she could look him straight in the face. “How could you possibly know that? We don’t exactly have a long history together.”

  “No, but what we do have is imprinted on my brain. I have a memory for these kinds of things.”

  “I’ll just bet you do,” Paige grumbled.

  His brows drew down. “What does this mean?”

  “It means that I wonder how well you remember what turns Countess Kozlova on.”

  He laughed suddenly, startling her. “Jealous, Paige? I have told you she means nothing to me.”

  “Of course I’m not jealous,” she said, though the blush creeping beneath her skin gave away the lie.

  Alexei’s hand slid to her belly, caressing her. She imagined what it would feel like when she was bigger and the baby could kick in response.

  He looked up, his silver eyes intense as they caught and held hers. “I have no desire for any woman but you.”

  Paige pulled the sheet up, shielding her body as if she could also shield her heart. It was what she wanted to hear from him, and yet it frightened her as well.

  Alexei frowned. “What is the matter, Paige?”

  “I’m just wondering when the fairy tale ends.” Because it would. Just like the last time, the bottom would drop out and she’d find it had all been a lie.

  “Don’t fairy tales always have a happy ending?” he said lightly.

  “Not if you’re the wicked witch.”

  He laughed. “Surely you are not trying to tell me you’re the wicked witch?”

  Paige couldn’t help but smile even as she tried to be serious. “Of course not. I was just trying to say that it all depends on your perspective. The fairy tale might not always end well.”

  In a quick movement, he stripped the sheet back and moved on top of her, his body hovering over hers, hard and warm and sexy. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as her desire quickened inside her again.

  “It’s our fairy tale,” he breathed, his mouth finding the hollow of her throat. “We get to write how it ends.”

  Paige arched her neck and moaned at the exquisite sensation of his lips moving over her collarbone, between her breasts. Her heart swelled for him, swelled with all she was beginning to feel. She wanted the fairy tale and she wanted the happy ending.

  And she wanted tonight. She wanted him like this always, as starved for her as she was for him. She didn’t want to think it could end, though she knew it could. But tonight she would not consider it.

  He placed a reverent kiss on her stomach before working his way back up her torso. She could feel him between her legs, hard and ready, and her insides liquefied. How did he do this to her? How did he make her feel as if she could never get enough of him?

  “You must tell me if it’s too much, if you are too tired,” he said.

  Paige tilted her hips up, sliding her calves along his thighs to hug his waist. “Make love to me, Alexei.”

  When he entered her this time, it was without the urgency of before. He made love to her slowly, sweetly, taking her to the heights and then bringing her gently back to earth with the exquisite pressure of his body inside hers.

  She hadn’t known he could be so tender and in control, hadn’t known it could be even more beautiful between them than it already had been. As she lay in his arms after, drifting into sleep, she feared her heart was already lost.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PAIGE RETURNED FROM a stroll on the grounds of the palace to find Alexei standing on the terrace, hands shoved in the pockets of the khakis he was wearing, lost in thought. She stopped beside the stone steps leading up to the terrace and watched him.

  He was still so breathtaking, and he made her heart thrum with excitement just looking at him. His handsome face was in profile to her. He shoved a hand through his dark hair and lifted the drink he was holding with the other. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she sensed that he would not welcome the intrusion.

  In the weeks since he’d burst into the Countess Kozlova’s salon and whisked her away, they’d spent the days talking, making love, eating dinner on the terrace or beside the fire on cool evenings and taking small trips into town to see the sights.

  He’d taken her for a cruise on the Neva River, shown her the Hermitage Museum and the Admiralty, St. Isaac’s Cathedral, and the Peter and Paul Fortress on Zayachy Island, among other things. He’d explained that the spire of the St. Peter and Paul Cathedral was the tallest structure in the city, but when he’d asked if she wanted to go up on the viewing platform, she’d refused. Alexei had laughed and hugged her.

  “I do not blame you, lyubimaya moya. It is very high.”

  They’d spent a few evenings at the ballet and opera, as he’d promised. Her Russian was getting better, though she could in no way be called fluent. But she’d enjoyed the opera regardless. Mariya had delivered librettos in English, and Paige had read them through before attending in the evening.

  Watching Alexei now, she put a hand over her belly. She was nearly fourteen weeks along, and though she couldn’t feel movement yet, they had seen their baby on the ultrasounds. It was too early to know if they were having a girl or a boy, but all she had to do was think of that little fist pumping in the air during the ultrasound, and she melted with love.

  Paige was humbled by the love she felt for this child. She loved her sister, and she’d worked hard to make a good life for them both, but she’d never felt the kind of protective possessiveness she felt toward this baby growing inside her. It was an experience in a whole new realm.

  She wanted to share what she was going through with Emma, but they were so far apart now—both literally and figurative
ly. Emma had finally e-mailed her, and they’d spoken on the phone several times, but the chill had not completely dissipated. In some ways, it made her angry, but in others she understood.

  She’d done everything for Emma for the last eight years, and now she was halfway around the world, married to the man who’d destroyed Emma’s fiancé. It was awkward, and yet it hurt her that Emma couldn’t find it in herself to understand what Paige was going through. Her entire life had changed when she’d fallen pregnant with Alexei’s child, and she was doing the best she could to make something good and lasting in her new life.

  It wasn’t what she’d once thought would happen to her, but each day she spent with Alexei, she knew it was the right thing. The fairy tale would end the way she wanted it to. She refused to let it happen any other way.

  Once, when she’d spoken of her sister’s lack of support to Alexei, he’d asked her why she wasn’t angry that Emma’s first thought the day Paige had told her the news was how it affected her.

  “She did not ask how you were feeling, Paige, or if the baby was well.”

  “She was upset,” Paige defended.

  “Yes, but if the situation were reversed, you would have been more concerned for her welfare than for your own.”

  She’d known he was right, even if she couldn’t admit it. And that’s what hurt the most. Emma had been more concerned about herself—and still was, to a certain extent.

  Paige pushed away the sadness that accompanied her thoughts of Emma and watched her husband in silence. A slow, steady warmth trickled into her veins. Her body always hummed when he was near. It was desire, yes, but she knew it was more than that.

  Life with Alexei had been almost perfect these last weeks. He was attentive to her every need, gentle when she wanted it, and fierce when she needed him to be. He knew her so well, sometimes better than she knew herself. It was stunning, really.

  One of his smiles had the power to rock her world to its very foundations. She woke up in his arms each morning, and fell asleep in them each night, and she couldn’t imagine anywhere else she’d rather be. Couldn’t imagine herself with any other man. Once, she’d thought Chad Russell was her ideal man. Now, she couldn’t fathom that she ever had.

 

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