Slowly he opened the neckline of her wrapper. He was careful not to touch her sling as he bent to place his lips against the curves above her lacy chemise. Her fingers twisted through his hair as his tongue slid along her.
This was what she wanted. This was what she was willing to risk anything to have again.
He gazed down into her eyes as he loosened the sash at her waist. His hand paused at the sound of boots on the landing.
Michelle watched Alexei’s face harden. “No,” she whispered, “it is not wrong to hold me like this.”
His hand stroked her cheek. “I know. Wait here.”
He stood and walked to the door, pausing to pull a poker from the hearth. He raised it at an assertive knock.
“No!” cried Michelle. “Alexei, it is Bartholomew!”
Alexei muttered his favorite curse as he put the poker aside and reached for the knob.
Bartholomew frowned as Alexei opened the door; then a superior smile twisted his lips. “Good afternoon, Vatutin.”
“Your Highness.”
“Is Fraulein D’Orage at home?”
Alexei gave a terse laugh. “Where do you expect her to go when she has a broken arm and can walk about only by leaning on the furniture?”
“Will you tell her I am here?”
“Let me see if she is at home for you, Your Highness.” Rudely he turned his back on Bartholomew. “Michelle, are you at home for Prince Charming?”
Hearing a grumble beyond the door, Michelle swallowed her laughter. Poor Bartholomew! He had added to his worthlessness, in Alexei’s opinion, by arriving now. It was tempting to blame Bartholomew for his poor timing, but she must not. “Please have Bartholomew come in. I will push the kettle over the fire.”
“You shall do nothing!” Alexei said in the same tight voice. “If you do not promise to sit and forget a hostess’s duties, I will not allow Prince Charming in.”
“Alexei,” she cautioned.
“Promise.”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Very good.” He stepped aside, letting the door open wider.
Bartholomew brushed past Alexei and dropped to his knees by her chair. “My dear, how wondrous to see you well enough to be here.” He suddenly frowned. “I can see you and your employer were not expecting callers.”
Michelle followed Bartholomew’s gaze to where her dressing gown gaped. She kept her smile in place as she tightened the sash. “While wearing this sling, I am most comfortable in my wrapper.” Uneasily, when he glowered at Alexei, she went on, “I thought you had gone home, and had not heard that you had returned to Vienna.”
“With clearer instructions from your father, no doubt.” Alexei crossed the room and sat beside her. He showed no sign of any weakness while Bartholomew was in the room.
Bartholomew got up and clasped his hands behind his back. “This is a social call, Vatutin. If you wish to discuss the Congress, I suggest you remember that such things might bore Michelle.”
“Michelle bored with politics?” He laughed, but his expression remained cold. “Michelle is as astute as many of the delegates. Mayhap because she has suffered the anguish created by war.”
Before Bartholomew could snarl a retort, Michelle said, “Gentlemen, please recall that I can speak for myself. Sit, Bartholomew, and tell us how the news of the Congress has been received in Coxe-Saxony-Colburg.”
When Bartholomew sat and began a list of his misadventures of trying to cross the mountains, Alexei listened closely and noticed that Michelle was as well. If this was her attempt to show him that she could be a good partner in his work as well as a delight in his bed, there had been no need. He wanted her in his life and in his arms. But to risk her again … He sighed. There had to be an answer. That was something else Sophie had taught him. There always was a way out of any problem. If he found it, he could have his work and Michelle, too.
Asking questions each time Prince Charming faltered, Alexei realized Michelle was watching him. He smiled at her, and her eyes glowed with longing. He struggled to heed Prince Charming, although the chance of learning something valuable from this addle-wit was slight. He would much rather throw Prince Charming out and pull Michelle into his arms.
She asked a question, and the princeling babbled in his attempt to please her. Alexei smiled. She possessed a rare intelligence that outshone even Sophie’s … and his own. Her touch had beguiled every thought from his head, especially his determination to keep her safe. There had to be a solution to this dilemma that would protect her from his enemies and still have her sparkling like the brightest star in a winter sky as she lit his nights with ecstasy.
The droning sound of Prince Charming’s voice disappeared as Alexei met Michelle’s gaze. In her eyes glowed the desire ravaging him. When he started to move his hand to cover hers, he cursed silently at the bandages encasing his fingers. Soon the bandages would be gone. Then his craving would show pretty, luscious Michelle exactly how much he wanted her. First he had to make sure she was safe. There must be some way to do that.
You have to give up everything you love in order to do what you must.
For the first time, Sophie’s voice echoing in his head annoyed him. He cursed silently. She had taught him well, but that admonition was one he did not want to accept. He would find a way to have both his work and Michelle. How, he was not sure, but he would. Then he would remind Michelle of the pleasure neither of them could forget.
It would be worth the wait.
Chapter Seventeen
Michelle watched as Herr Doktor Telemann lifted off the bandages that had been on her arm for nearly two months. When she saw the dried blood on the bottom ones, she shuddered. She did not close her eyes as he cut away the layers of filthy linen. The sight before her was not as horrible as her memories of that terrifying night. Her eyes widened as she saw the scar where the ball had struck her.
Fresh air wafted along her skin as the doctor ordered, “Extend your fingers, Fraulein.”
She tried, surprised at how cramped they were.
“Do they hurt?” he asked.
“Just stiff.”
“And your arm. Bend your elbow. Up first.”
She grimaced as her bones creaked from disuse, but her elbow obeyed better than her fingers had. Her smile of pride vanished when he gently touched her forearm.
At her moan, he asked, “Still tender?”
“Yes,” she whispered, biting her lip.
“This will take but a moment.”
Frau Schlissel came to hold Michelle’s hand as the doctor completed his examination. When Michelle’s fingers tightened, she feared she was hurting the older woman, but Frau Schlissel said nothing.
“This looks excellent, Fraulein,” the doctor said. “A light bandage should be sufficient.”
“And the sling?”
“You should wear it for a while longer. If you go out, you must wear it. However, when you are sitting quietly, you should take it off for a few minutes and stretch your arm.” He wagged a finger at her. “Only for a few minutes. To do too much too swiftly can harm it. Be sensible, Fraulein, and you should regain full use of your arm. You realize how lucky you are, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said as Frau Schlissel retied the sling behind her neck. “Herr Doktor Telemann, what about Alexei?”
He closed his bag. “As soon as I examine him, I will know.”
Michelle accepted the scold as her due. Sliding off the bed, she wiggled her fingers and said, “Forgive me, Herr Doktor. I have trouble being patient.”
“Mayhap, Fraulein D’Orage, but you have been an excellent patient. Mayhap that is why you are recovering better than I had hoped.”
“Did you consider it might be because you are an excellent doctor?”
He chuckled. “I can understand how you have charmed Vienna. If you are as flattering to everyone you have met as you are to this old doctor, you must have them all begging at your feet.”
Heat climbed her cheeks. In the past t
wo months while living here quietly, she had given her tongue free rein. She must be careful to watch what she said when she and Alexei were again among the delegates to the Congress, for those diplomats would twist every word she said.
“Do you want help putting away those clothes?” Frau Schlissel asked when the doctor had gone into the other room.
Michelle picked up the small pile. “Thank you, but no. I am glad to have something to do.”
“Then I shall return to the kitchen and begin supper.”
“A victory supper?”
The housekeeper’s eyes twinkled merrily. “That sounds just fine, Fraulein.”
Going to the cupboard at the side of her room, Michelle opened the door. She put the clothes on a shelf and started to close the door. With a frown, she bent and looked at where the fabric on the inside of the door had come loose.
An arm snaked around her waist and drew her back against Alexei’s hard body. She sighed with undeniable desire as his tongue tickled her earlobe. His finger traced her sling across her throat and along the front of her wrapper. When his hand slipped beneath it to curve around her breast, a craving resonated deep within her.
“Can this come off?” he whispered as he touched the sling. His breath sent quivers along her.
“At night,” she struggled to say past her ragged breath. “When we are alone and it is quiet, I am supposed to exercise my hand.”
“Perfect, Liebchen. I can give you the perfect exercise for your hand. Touch me.” He laughed softly as he pulled her to her feet and whirled her to face him.
“Alexei!”
He touched the black patch that covered his eye. “So do I look like a rogue?”
For a long minute, she did not answer. Against his golden hair, the ebony blotch was even more conspicuous. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to the thread holding it in place. “Does your eye hurt?”
“No, but the results of being shot and having the wound become infected are best concealed.” He grinned. “Actually, I think the patch is quite dashing.”
“It should cause some problems if you wish to go from being Alexei Vatutin to someone else.”
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he squeezed gently. “With all the men wounded from the war, no one will notice another.” He looked past her. “Is something wrong with your armoire?”
“The fabric was loose, and I was trying to fix it.”
“Let me help.”
“A roguish pirate would not offer to do that.”
“No, he would offer to do this.” He kissed her swiftly, and she smiled as he knelt to poke at the fabric. Her fingers twisted through his hair. “Ah, here is the problem. The fabric came away from its brad. There. Fixed.”
“Thank you.”
Getting to his feet, he swept his arm around her, pulling her up to his chest again. “So, Liebchen, do you want to go dancing tonight?”
“Dancing? Tonight?” She stepped out of his arms so he could not discover how she trembled at the thought. Attending a ball threatened to throw her back into the miasma of horrifying memories.
He cupped her chin. “You cannot cower here forever. Neither can I. There is a party at a French diplomat’s house tonight. Come with me, Liebchen.”
“Of course. You will need me to translate.”
“Not only that,” he murmured as he leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “I need you in my arms as we whirl to the music.”
She had no chance to answer as he captured her lips as easily as he had captured her heart. She was willing to go anywhere with him, even if it meant going again through the hell they had suffered. She suspected that vow would be tested.
Soon.
Frau Schlissel did not seem surprised when Michelle told her they were going out and she needed help getting dressed. Although the housekeeper prattled, Michelle sensed her disquiet.
Wearing a white gown with a pale pink overdress instead of her wrapper was a pleasure. Frau Schlissel loosened Michelle’s braids and arranged her recalcitrant curls about her head, pinning flowers in them.
Michelle’s hands shook as she entered the parlor and saw that Alexei was dressed as formally as she was. She had forgotten how incredibly handsome he was in an ebony coat and spotless white breeches. She touched the silver sheen of his waistcoat, so glad that his spirit had not been wounded as his body had. Ready to go among his enemies again, he would not hide behind drab clothes.
“You need a bit of lace for that,” he said, draping her sling with a sheer shawl that matched her gown.
“So I can be a well-dressed invalid? Look at you with your black coat and eye patch to match.”
“I thought I looked rather dashing.” He ran her finger along the scar left by the bullet that had creased his right cheek, then kissed her palm. “I have long aspired to play the roué.”
She did not laugh. “I think you look as wonderful as the first time I saw you.”
“Do you?” he asked, shocked. He regained his composure as he said, “You were very cold to me that night.”
“Looking back, I cannot imagine why I agreed to go with a pompous, self-satisfied Russian autocrat, but I am glad I did.”
“Despite everything?”
“Despite everything.”
He ran his finger again along the sling. “Even this?”
“Yes.”
When his finger glided across her lips, his voice became husky. “Even this, Liebchen?”
Her answer was muted by the pressure of his mouth over hers. Why did he ask? Couldn’t he tell how much she longed to be in his arms? He was the one who had pushed her away in the wake of the attack on them. Her longing for him had never wavered. Nothing, not even the past that bound them so unexpectedly together, should come between them.
Rusak clearing his throat slowly separated them, but Alexei did not release her from his hungry gaze as he draped her heavy cloak around her shoulders. When Alexei offered his left arm, Michelle put her fingers on it. They remained silent as they walked out of the apartment to face the world together. She did not want to think how easily this joy could be destroyed.
As Michelle walked into the well-lit house, she tried to hide her unease. She did not want to be on display here tonight as if she were part of a gypsy circus. That she and Alexei had survived the assassination should not make them the center of attention, but the bored diplomats would be eager for any diversion.
Alexei smiled as he led her into the ornate room, which was crowded to overflowing. Instantly they were surrounded. Questions were shot from every direction. She tried to answer, but another was fired at her before she could reply. Shocked by the lack of grief over Herr Damrosch’s death, she wished she had not let Alexei convince her to make this their first outing. If they had emerged slowly, mayhap to a restaurant or for a ride about the city, she could have dealt with the curiosity more easily.
The words of one overplump dowager caught her attention. “Excuse me?” Michelle asked, sure she had misunderstood the woman.
“Fraulein D’Orage, I do trust your baby was not lost. You appear as slender as ever. It would be such a great tragedy if—”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She was about to add more when she saw Alexei’s lopsided smile. Obviously he had heard this rumor.
“Michelle is alive,” Alexei said with his most charming grin, “and that is what we must be grateful for.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “I trust there will be other opportunities.”
The dowager fluttered her fan and hurried away, clearly disconcerted by Alexei’s outrageous comments. His quick answers to the others came as he steered Michelle toward a bench by a window. A servant appeared as soon as she sat. Alexei took two glasses and handed her one. Gratefully she took a deep drink of the champagne.
“Are you all right?” he asked, sitting beside her. “You look very pale.”
“All for the better, if I am supposed to be quickening.” She arched her brows. “And exactly when were you plann
ing to tell me about this?”
He smiled. “I heard the rumor for the first time the night you seduced me in the conservatory.” His finger traced her ear as his gaze softened. “Needless to say, I forgot it along with everything else when I was in your arms.”
“Anything else you have forgotten to tell me? Some other deep secret that I should know?”
“Yes. I love you.”
She blinked, wondering if she had misheard him. “What?”
“You heard me, Liebchen. I love you.” He brushed her lips with his.
“Really?”
He laughed. “Have I been dishonest with you in the past?”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t you always know when I was lying?”
She nodded. She had known so often when he was spinning her a tale, because she had seen the sincerity in his eyes when he spoke the truth. The truth of his admiration for her mother. The truth of his concern for his work. And now the truth of his love for her.
His broad fingers stroked her shoulder. “So am I being less than honest when I say, ‘I love you, Michelle D’Orage’?”
Searching his face, she was not sure whether she hoped to see his ironic smile or to discover that he was being truthful. Her errant heart did not dare to believe that he loved her. Yet, as she thought of the nights spent in their cozy parlor, she realized she had never been happier. But to have Alexei love her complicated their lives.
“I wish I were back in Zurich,” she whispered.
Fury edged his voice. “What? Do you want to run back to your convent and hide from the world and my love for you?”
“You don’t understand!”
“I don’t? I tell you that I love you and you want to flee. What are you running away from?”
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