She quelled the response on the tip of her tongue. It wouldn't do to anger this man when her entire life rested in his hands, now that he'd succeeded in his mission.
"Of course you do. The potion..."
"Ah, the potion." He lowered himself to his haunches, his powerful thighs bulging as they accepted his weight. His finger lifted her chin so she could not turn from his gaze. "I doctored it so my child would not be aborted. All life is precious, especially a child's. You will protect this life inside you."
She stared at him, her mind blank. "You hate me so very much," she said softly.
He grinned, his smile broad. "That is where you are wrong. There is no woman on the face of this earth I could hate. I love them all, and they all love me. And, Feodora, I will see to it that this child of mine is well taken care of."
"What will happen to me--and the babe?" she asked, her hand slowly lowering to touch her abdomen. "Will you marry me and give the child your name?"
He shook his head. "The child will have a name, and you will be taken care of, but marriage to me? No. I am not yet ready for such a blessed state."
Anger flared, and the need for retribution surfaced. "I will kill you."
One handsome eyebrow quirked in speculation. "The father of your child? I think not."
"Yes. You dare imply that you could take care of the babe in the manner of his station, You--a lowly stable master." She sneered, her hate escalating with each beat of her heart. He wouldn't dare.
"Stable masters make love to the ladies of estates quite often. It is something acceptable in most circles."
"I will tell Alexi you forced me."
Ivan shook his head at her. "You will not. You will not be here when he returns from America. I will make sure you are safe and protected in a place of my choice. And I will see to your marriage. For you, I will find a suitable mate, one who will keep you well satisfied all the days of your life."
She gritted her teeth against the hate welling in her breast. "You cannot abduct me, and you cannot make me wed a man I've never met."
"But I can. The men of my family have been doing that very thing successfully for hundreds of years. Where I am going to take you, you'll never be able to leave unless I give you my permission. The man you marry will keep you in chains if you defy him, yet if you are a sweet, biddable wife, he will treat you with the care and understanding a wife deserves."
Fear snaked through her, yet her body shivered with delight at his words. She would marry a powerful man, a wealthy one. Perhaps this would not be so very bad.
"Who is this person? Where will you take me?" Curiosity seemed to be getting the best of her.
"Not far from here. I am glad to see that you are becoming more accepting of your new future." He rose, towering above her, one hand placed firmly on a lean hip, the other on her shoulder.
Ivan was all man, pure, unleashed masculine power, all she'd ever wanted. He would not be easy to forget. Perhaps she could have Ivan and a husband, too. Wheels were already spinning in her brain.
Suddenly she knew the truth of his words. She'd played the game his way and lost, and now she decided she might enjoy what he planned for her. She would never give him the satisfaction of learning how easily she'd given in to his wishes, though.
"You can't possibly think to hold me." She felt a carnal shiver at her own words. Perhaps they would trigger a primitive memory in him, and he would make love to her again, one more time before he gave her up.
"Your future husband will hold on tight to you."
"I will find a way out," she countered.
"Across miles of desert sand? In your condition? You cannot even leave this estate on your own. You haven't the resources. I'm leaving to meet Alexi and Misha. Natasha has left to see to a sick friend. You will stay here and you will cause no mischief. When I return, I will see to your future."
Primal fear swept through her. Ivan meant every word he spoke.
Across miles of desert sand.
This arrogant man towering over her was no stable master. She'd made the worst mistake of her life and didn't know what to do.
"Who are you?"
He laughed deep in his throat, the sound booming through the trees surrounding them. His hands were held high over his head, his face pointed upward.
"I am the man who will see you mastered."
~ * ~
"Ivan!"
Through what seemed like a seething mass of humanity, Alexi saw his wayward cousin.
"Alexander. There you are!"
Luckily, Ivan was tall enough to stand above the men and women gathered on the docks. Amid fishermen and merchants unloading their wares in the busy port, Alexi hadn't expected to see anyone he knew, least of all Ivan.
Ivan had always had an uncanny sense of where he was and what he was about. He waved in return to his cousin's call and pushed his way through the crowded wharf. A vendor cried out to him.
Alexi wondered again for the hundredth time if he hadn't been a fool to bring Angela here. He'd never had so many misgivings in his entire life. His country and its ideals would be difficult for Angela to adjust to, just as she was having so much trouble adjusting to the idea of becoming his mistress.
She would have to take grave care in this city. For almost two hours this morning while they were waiting for the tide to change, he'd tried to explain both of his countries and the way of life he took for granted. As he explained, he found that some of the customs were no longer acceptable to him.
After his father had left the ship and given the Mystic safe escort through the Black Sea to this port, he'd not had the heart to return to Angela until the morning tide. He wanted to know if he could make her happy before she became pregnant with his child. He needed to know if she'd stay with him of her own accord. For the two of them it could be no other way.
On the other hand, he could not bear to let her go. Thoughts of living without her forced him into a cold sweat. If she already carried a child of his, he would lock her in a room to keep her with him.
Pushing through the throngs of people, he realized how much he'd changed, how much America had changed him. This was not a life he could adapt to easily, even if he wanted to.
He made his way to Ivan at last, who embraced him quickly and drew him away, smiling wryly. "Are the rumors true? Do you bring a lady with you to be your mistress? Come on to the caravan and tell me all that has happened since you left. The minute Natasha heard you would arrive she sent me to find you and bring you home. Naturally, you could have made the proper arrangements for yourself, but I thought it prudent to greet you and let you know what has been going on in your absence. Have you heard anything?"
Alexi shook his head. He had heard only what his father had allowed him to hear. He knew little of what had transpired in the years he'd been gone, other than the fact of his mother's former husband's death, followed in two short weeks by the death of one of his half brothers. And of course he had heard the news concerning Fedora, the woman his grandmother had chosen for him. He welcomed another man's view of this situation.
"I have to send word to Misha where we'll be. He'll see that Angela reaches the caravan safely."
"Make sure you veil her properly. If she is blond and blue-eyed, she'll be fair game for any slaver's in the vicinity. You'd never find her."
Alexi hissed sharply, his emotions reeling. "I've been gone for too long, cousin. I had forgotten the customs and the hidden dangers of this country. I've forgotten too much."
"Misha would have remembered. He has always been the practical one."
"Always," Alexi agreed.
While Alexi absorbed the atmosphere in the flamboyant port city, and thought about how good it should feel to be home, Ivan gave instructions to a trusted messenger and sent him back to the Mystic.
Alexi inhaled deeply. The air was redolent with exotic spice and sweat from the men and women clustered together, and it was swept by the dry desert winds gusting off the sands surrounding the city.
"When do we leave?" Alexi asked, eager to get home and away from the dangers here. Despite his reasons for leaving and the nostalgia he carried for the States, he was anxious to return. Everything would be different now. He would have full control over the people working his land and the estate money.
They walked through the city, passing vendors hawking their wares. Alexi bought a sack of oranges to share with Angela this evening. He eyed the colorful material, the silken, sheer fabrics and thought wistfully of Angela dancing for him garbed in the clothes of his mother country. Music filtered through the vending stands, reviving his memory.
On the outskirts of the city, Ivan had indeed assembled a caravan of strength. There were twenty of his desert warriors, playing cards in the shade of a few trees, their horses grazing near the spring. Camels waited nearby, and there were plenty of animals to carry them and their possessions. In the Turkish custom Ivan had spared no expense or luxury.
Ivan and Alexi took shelter from the afternoon heat in one of the tents set up for his use. Inside, a plush Oriental carpet was spread out on the floor. Pillows lay in abundance; every comfort had been obtained, and nothing was left to chance. A young girl poured wine and brought refreshments for the men, then left.
Alexi relaxed on the pillows, sipping his wine. It felt good to be pampered. His thoughts turned to Angela, and he wondered when she'd arrive and if she'd still feel amenable to him.
First things first, he thought. "Tell me about Feodora," Although his father had already told him that Feodora was unsuitable, Alexi was interested in Ivan's point of view.
Ivan slanted him a crooked smile. "In a few months she will be huge with my child, Alexi. No, Feodora would not make you a good wife. I plan to take her to my tribe in the desert, far away from the estate and any mischief she might find. Najjar lost his wife and child to an epidemic last spring. He needs a woman's comfort."
Alexi made no comment while Ivan rambled on, but let his thoughts spin back to Angela--the way she felt in his arms, the way she tasted when he suckled her, the smell of jasmine that always surrounded her.
Ivan continued. "Feodora is a bit of a shrew, but Najjar will not care as long as she warms his bed passionately. That I'm sure she will do just fine. Feodora is a woman who needs to be often and thoroughly pleasured."
"Najjar? He is..."
Ivan made a lewd gesture with his hands. "If what the maidens say is true, Najjar is... well endowed," Ivan finally said with a grin on his face.
"He will keep her barefoot and pregnant," Alexi laughed softly. And then, "You feel nothing for her?"
Ivan paused a second. "Nothing special. Nothing that would bind her to me. Najjar needs a woman of her talents, and in turn he will keep her well loved. He has a huge sexual appetite as does Feodora. They are made for each other. By the end of another week she would have worn me down."
"She would not have been suited as a wife for me?"
"No, when I made love to her she'd already known many men. She was no virgin, and you must marry an innocent woman with noble bloodlines. Nothing less will be accepted by your grandmother or the serfs who reside on your estate. Have your mistress, but you must find a wife soon. So much depends on it."
"I suppose Natasha has someone else picked out for me."
Ivan laughed and shook his head. "She threw up her hands in aggravation. Decided she was a terrible matchmaker and didn't dare risk it again. You must travel north to Moscow and pick someone out yourself. Your grandmother will accompany you. She has made the plans already. If everything goes smoothly, she will return in a week so that both of you can leave together."
Going to Moscow to pick a bride... Alexi didn't much like that idea. Travel would take time from Angela, and he would have to leave her alone. Ivan and Misha would take care of her. She would be safe in their hands. Fears that Angela would leave him if given half a chance loomed heavy in his mind. He would have her promise not to leave.
Alexi stopped brooding suddenly. "How long until Angela arrives?"
Ivan, who was standing at the opening of the tent, grinned. "Coming across the sand with Najjar right now. You can meet Najjar. I will wait for your approval."
Alexi pulled the flap of the tent back. Najjar stood a head and a half taller than Alexi's petite hellion. Najjar saw Ivan, smiled, waved and turned to Angela, who was walking with her hands folded in front of her and her head bowed behind the big man. Misha walked behind Angela. Alexi wanted to laugh at the strange picture. Angela had never looked subservient. She still didn't.
Angela was dressed hi black veils that covered her from head to toe. He could not see any part of her. As they moved closer he could see the outline of her face behind the sheer black veil covering her.
The buzz of the camp seemed to fade, and he made his way quickly through the throng of people to reach her. He offered Misha and Ivan a quick nod then reached for Angela's hand, drawing her into the fold of his embrace.
It was only then he realized that despite the brave show she put on for everyone around her, she was...
Quite simply trembling.
He frowned, worried he'd expected too much of her. He quickly readjusted his stance, slipping an arm around her shoulders and offering silent reassurance. Ivan's men seemed to press around them, even as he led her back toward the tent. "I'm sorry, Angela. I should have realized travel through the city would have been treacherous for a woman. I shouldn't have relied on Misha and Najjar as guides," he whispered to Angela.' 'Had I thought on it I would not have left you alone."
She turned slightly in his arms, her face angelic with forgiveness. "Alexi, I'm fine. The guided tour was fascinating. There is so much going on. Misha explained everything to me. It is truly an adventure."
"You're sure?" Alexi wanted to touch her gently, wanted to erase the fear she wouldn't admit to.
He didn't want her to be worried about travel across a land that was known for its thieves and dangers that could pop up at a moment's notice. And in truth, he wasn't at all certain she could make the trip. So far she'd shown amazing strength of character, but this land was rough and far more dangerous than anything she was accustomed to. A small, fragile piece of femininity such as Angela might surely die in this unforgiving land.
"You don't need to worry about me."
He didn't know what to say. She had changed enormously in the last month. She had grown pale and lost weight, but today she had a touch of color in her cheeks. Her lips were a deep rose hue, and her vibrancy gave her an enchanting appeal.
She seemed truly pleased to be there.
"Ah, so this is the exotic beauty, Angela, whom I've heard so much about," Ivan said as they reached the tent. "Now that you've finally arrived, perhaps we should go inside and talk about the trip north. We've food and wine, enough for an army of men. I've arranged for every comfort and need to be satisfied. You will want for nothing," he whispered.
"Quite right," Alexi heard himself saying firmly. "Ivan, as an expert on the desert, please advise Angela she should take every precaution as we cross."
Ivan ever so slightly arched a brow; in his life, he'd noted that strong women would never bow completely to their husbands or masters, they would always have their say. A wise man learned to humor his woman, pretend to listen to everything she had to say--and then made sure the woman was safe, even if it meant extreme measures had to be taken. America had changed Alexi. He certainly was not at ease with this woman; it was a new revelation. But Ivan played along with Alexi.
"Alexi speaks true. The crossing is dangerous."
My Angel Page 23
