Christmas Tsar (Blood and Thunder 1)

by Susan Stephens

  “You refuse?” he cut in mildly.

  “Don’t start that. I’m not afraid of you, Alexei Riga,” she assured him, balling her hands into fists.

  “I should hope not,” he agreed.

  They stared at each other unblinking for a moment. He longed to laugh, to smile, to draw Amber into his arms, and to hell with keeping her at arm’s length for her own good. “Would you like to know who was on the phone?”

  She shook her head and tightened her lips. “I can’t see that it’s any of my business.”

  “May I suggest you make it your business? Celina… Do you remember her?”

  “Of course I remember her,” Amber exclaimed, her face lighting up like the Fourth of July. “I can’t believe you were talking to Celina. How is she?”

  “All the women are being well cared for. I told her to let them know they could expect Christmas gifts from you.”

  “But how will I get gifts to them now?” She frowned. “It’s too late for Christmas.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he was happy to tell her. “Some Russians observe two Christmases. The first on December the twenty-fifth, and the second on January seventh, so there’s plenty of time for your gifts to reach them—and you can leave the delivery to my people. They’ll get the gifts,” he reassured her. “All you have to do is choose them.”

  “I overreacted,” she admitted, frowning heavily. “I attacked you without listening.”

  “Equally, I could have covered the mouthpiece and told you who I was talking to.” He shrugged and slanted a smile. “Truce?” he suggested. Amber was still punishing her lip. He stood and smoothed it with his fingertip. “Don’t frown. You’ve got Isla Celeste to look forward to.”

  “The island,” she murmured. Her face was transfixed as she stared across the sea.

  “How does it make you feel?” he asked with interest. He could remember his own first sight of Isla Celeste and the excitement that had lit inside him at the thought of what he might find there.

  ~o0o~

  Apart from the fact that she was hopelessly in love with a man who refused to accept that he was capable of giving and receiving love, she felt optimistic. “It would take about a year to tell you how I feel,” she said truthfully.

  “Better make a start,” Alexei suggested dryly.

  “I remember a film about a fictional island and a woman singing a siren song to lure people there—don’t worry, I won’t start singing. I wouldn’t want to be locked up.” But she did feel the same tug and a thrill of anticipation as she stared at the now clearly defined volcanic crags and peaks rearing up out of the sea. The island had a lush green heart, and she could see the glint of water running through it. Circled by ivory sand and topped by fluffy white clouds, Isla Celeste looked magical. “Gorgeous,” she murmured. “I can’t wait for us to dock so I can explore. But for now, it’s back to the galley,” she said, remembering the rest of her duties.

  “Sir?” Alexei reminded her in a low, amused tone. “Or have I been demoted?”

  “You probably should be,” she agreed. “But…is there anything else I can get you?” She asked this pleasantly. She was done with fantasies, done with getting prickly too. She had no right to judge Alexei. He was right in saying she was crew. That was why she’d been brought on board in the first place. “Anything?” she pressed.

  He hesitated a moment, and then said, “No, thank you. If you want to get back, there’s nothing stopping you.”

  Not even you, she thought.

  ~o0o~

  The welcoming committee on the quayside was enough to distract anyone from the scenic panorama, let alone any excitement on board Russian Thunder. There was enough drama on shore to please the sternest critic. Three incredible-looking men were waiting for Alexei in various poses of loose-limbed relaxation. They were instantly recognizable from Blood and Thunder posters. They were all top-flight athletes, and all possessed the same interesting combination of grace and brute strength as Alexei. According to what Amber had read, they’d all had a tough upbringing and had achieved similar levels of success to Alexei. Dante, the Argentinian, was leaning back against a wall, dark glasses propped on top of his head to keep his thick, inky-black Romani locks away from his proud, hard face. He sprang into action the instant Alexei tossed the first mooring line to shore. Diego, the Spaniard, caught the second line. The man standing in the shadows must be Cesar, Amber reasoned. He was always pictured in silhouette, or half-hidden by the rest of the team, so she’d never had clear sight of him, and she couldn’t see him clearly now.

  A lot of backslapping and intricate handshakes were exchanged as the four team members were reunited. Watching them, she felt totally excluded, which she was. Alexei hadn’t called her to join them. There was no reason why he would.

  Going belowdecks, she picked up the things she’d need on shore, and then followed the rest of the crew off the superyacht and onto the crew bus. Alexei and his friends had roared off in a brand-new, top-of-the-range SUV convertible. So much for her ability to melt ice, Amber reflected dryly as she settled onto the rigid metal seat at the front of the bus. She got the impression that the upcoming Russian Christmas Alexei had mentioned would be a lot less exciting than the first.

  ~o0o~

  He was going to keep his distance from Amber. Let her get her story, and then let her go home where she was safe. Her lodgings at Cesar’s in the bunkhouse gave him the separation he needed. Seeing her every day had wrought havoc with his good intentions. He would return to Russian Thunder each night to sleep alone.

  He should have remembered her love of horses.

  She was in the stable block when he arrived to check his ponies.

  “Alexei.” Her voice was measured as she turned to face him. She was as calm and quiet as anyone who loved being around animals tended to be. “I’m off-duty. I hope you don’t mind my coming here.”

  “Not at all.”

  She was stroking his favorite mare, a notoriously difficult animal that never let anyone close to her but him. “I didn’t expect to find you here,” he admitted, leaning over the stall door.

  “I didn’t expect to get among such valuable ponies quite so easily,” she said. Her lips pressed down to show what she thought of Cesar’s security measures. “Horses as beautiful as this should never be put at risk,” she added, stroking the gleaming neck of his glossy-coated bay. Resting her cheek against the mare’s noble neck for a moment, she inhaled deeply, as if the scent of warm, vital animal appealed to her as much as it did to him. Scratching beneath the pony’s jaw, which they both knew it would love, she was rewarded with a long contented snuffle.

  Leaving his horse with a few quiet words and a soothing pat, she came out to join him. “The motion sensors don’t seem to be working, and the cameras are out.”

  “Correct. The entire system is undergoing its annual maintenance. Cesar is upgrading everything. We’re on the island,” he added, as if that were a cast iron guarantee of security. Unfortunately, he agreed with her. Even a short outage left them dangerously exposed.

  “I don’t expect anyone ever expects trouble,” she remarked, turning for the door.

  He caught hold of her arm as she walked away. “Do you have any idea how annoying you can be?”

  She huffed a laugh and shrugged.

  He wanted to kiss that stubborn mouth until she begged for more, but since he’d made the very sensible decision to put distance between them, that was off-limits. “I hope I’ll see you at the match tomorrow?” he said instead.

  “If I’m invited.” Amber held his stare steadily.

  “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “Will you post my ticket under the bunkhouse door?”

  He gave her a long, considering look. “I’ll get you a special pass. You can hold my stirrup while I mount.”

  “I could have a forklift standing by…”

  Her face had remained admirably straight. “And now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  And
even if I won’t, he thought, judging by the look on Amber’s face.

  “I’ve got things to do—like prepare supper for a team of hungry men,” she elaborated coolly.

  “I look forward to that,” he murmured as she walked away, hips swaying beneath her clothes.

  ~o0o~

  So now she didn’t have one demanding billionaire to cook for, she had four. Great, Amber thought as she started to find her way around the kitchen. And what was she supposed to do when the meal was cooked? Hit the nonexistent dinner gong to summon them?

  That problem was solved when the team rolled in while she was still in the throes of cooking one of her famous hot pots—perhaps not the most sophisticated of dishes, but certainly one of the tastiest. And a real man-pleaser, her grandmother used to say. Savory, hot, and filling, what better way to a man’s heart? A stiletto seemed like a pretty good option right now, Amber thought as Alexei, Dante, Diego, and Cesar arranged themselves around the table and stared at her expectantly.

  “You don’t wash your hands before you sit down to eat?” she inquired. They’d come fresh from the stables and were covered in ten types of shit. She frowned. “Or even take your boots off?”

  Four sets of ridiculously powerful shoulders lifted in a shrug. Four sets of ridiculously appealing mouths pressed down. Four sets of stunningly gorgeous eyes regarded her as if her opinion was of no interest to them whatsoever.

  “We just want feeding, okay?” Alexei told her impatiently, turning back to his friends.

  She raised her voice above theirs. “We need to set some ground rules here…”

  The men had been talking animatedly and laughing at their private jokes, but as she spoke silence dropped like a safety curtain. “I beg your pardon?” Alexei said, turning to look at her.

  “I said… I think we need some ground rules here. If you want me to cook for you, you’re going to have to show me some respect—taking your boots off would be a start. Washing your hands before you sit down at the table would benefit us all, since I’ve got no interest in acquiring whatever bugs you’re carrying around.”

  Four backs turned on her like a wall.

  Okay. If that was the way they wanted to play it. She’d feed them tonight. She’d worked hard enough to make a nice meal for everyone, but if they behaved this way tomorrow, she would not be quite so accommodating.

  ~o0o~

  The next day, the team trained all day, giving Amber plenty of time to speak to the quartermaster in charge of armaments to arrange a special little surprise for the boys in the event they played up the next evening. When they trooped into supper on time, she began to wonder if she was guilty of overreacting. But no. They had a special little surprise for her, she noticed as they dropped a quantity of expensive tack on the table. There was a rich assortment of saddles and bridles and stirrups and straps and bits, all of which they proceeded to clean.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked. “I mean, cleaning your tack on the table where you’re going to eat?” She raised a brow when Alexei turned around. “Don’t you think those noxious-smelling lotions and potions might possibly spoil the flavor of a nice roast chicken dinner?”

  He turned his back on her, so she went to collect her little surprise. Bringing it back to the table on a plate beneath a cloche, she swept the tack aside and made her offering the centerpiece of the table. Removing the cloche with a flourish, she stood back.

  “Are you fucking mad?” Alexei exclaimed, leaping for the grenade as everyone else leapt back.

  Amber couldn’t reply. She’d never seen grown men move so quickly and was laughing too much to answer him.

  “A dud?” Alexei said softly, examining the grenade more closely. He raised his chin and glared at Amber. “You put a dud on the table?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, clutching her sides with laughter. “I’ll ask for a live one next time.”

  Tossing the grenade up and down in his hand. Alexei fixed her with an icy stare. “Someone will pay for this.”

  “Well, not your quartermaster, I hope,” Amber said quickly. “Because this was my idea. I talked him into supplying me with the shell of a grenade.” She had to bite back a grin. “It worked, didn’t it? It got your attention.”

  The other men watched with interest, while Alexei’s stare remained long and hard.

  “I wasn’t thinking of punishing the quartermaster,” he murmured.

  Is it wrong to find that incredibly arousing?

  When Alexei placed the dummy grenade on the table, the men laughed, and before they settled down in their seats again, they not only cleared the table, they wiped the table, and even helped Amber to set the table, which she chalked up as a small but significant victory.

  ~o0o~

  “She’s certainly unusual,” Cesar commented the next day as they were preparing to mount up for the match. “Not at all like the type of woman you usually go for.”

  “Not shallow and brittle, do you mean?”

  “And not a drip,” Cesar remarked.

  “Thanks a lot,” Alexei said dryly. He had been expecting one of his friends to make a comment about Amber and the episode with the grenade, but not Cesar. “Do you mean you like her?”

  “I mean she appears to be a match for you, Alexei.”

  “Which is why I have to send her away.”

  “You’ll regret it,” Cesar remarked as he swung into the saddle.

  “Maybe,” Alexei agreed. “But, rather that than she lives to regret it.”

  They rode out four abreast to play a team from mainland Spain. The Agusta brothers were trialing a new eight-goal-handicap player from Scotland, affectionately known on the circuit as Hard Robert. This match between Blood and Thunder and the Agusta team was supposed to be friendly, but no one expected it to be either friendly or easy. Every player at this level played to win. To say they were competitive would be understating it. Knowing this, polo fans had arrived on the island from all over the world. The new security measures had been installed around the pitch first, which now boasted state-of-the-art security, and they were expecting a sell-out crowd. The bleachers were packed as they rode in to deafening cheers, but he noticed Amber right away and relaxed. He’d made sure she got a VIP ticket. She was hanging over the fence at the far end of the field in front of the stables and gave him an additional reason to annihilate the opposition.

  The ideal would be to find Amber waiting for him at the end of the match—unfortunately, he couldn’t guarantee that. Too bad he’d sworn off complicated red-hot redheads with a fondness for gallows humor. He had tried to keep his distance since they’d arrived on the island, with some vague hope that he could wean them off each other, but thoughts of that shining red hair spread out on his pillows and those pale, slender limbs wrapped around him had kept him awake last night. His threat to punish Amber for her joke with the grenade had acquired countless new scenes in the early hours of this morning, which had played out to an imagined soundtrack of soft moans and whimpers.

  And now, at the eleventh hour with the match about to start, he decided that with January seventh only days away, one last Christmas with Amber was going to happen, but then he would definitely send her home.

  ~o0o~

  The whistle blew. The match began. Amber clenched her hands tightly. She was in an agony of concern for Alexei. There was no more exciting sight than eight men racing flat-out on galloping horses, mallets swinging at a hard ball that flew like a missile between them, but there was no sight more terrifying either than tons of fiercely competitive, hyped-up horseflesh jockeying for position within a hairsbreadth of collision. She knew Alexei’s riding by reputation only, having never seen him play a match, and was almost over the fence at one point, ready to take on the big Scot playing for the Spanish team when he tried to ride Alexei off the ball. No need, thank goodness, as Alexei’s horse could turn on a sixpence and Alexei rode like a Cossack. Keeping the ball, he raced down the field and scored the first goal. Alexei wasn’t just an e
xpert on horseback, he was the king of the field. He had never looked more powerful or potent to Amber as he steered his horse without appearing to move at all. But then he was an expert at control, she remembered, breathing deeply as she passed a few pleasurable moments reminiscing. But daydreams could easily be shattered, and hers had just been rudely interrupted.

  She gasped as a collision between Alexei and another player seemed inevitable, and looked away for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, she breathed a sigh of relief to see that Alexei was okay—not only okay, he was in possession of the ball. But then something else caught her attention—a shadow darting inside the stable block. It was a kid, she realized with surprise, pulling back from the fence. A youth she didn’t recognize had slipped inside the door. Walking swiftly, she went to check him out.

  Chapter Nine

  Where the fuck is she?

  “Has anyone seen Amber?” Alexei asked as he scanned the crowd gathering for the after-match party at Cesar’s. He was becoming increasingly concerned. He could understand Amber wanting to leave before the match ended to come here to check the final preparations for the party, as she was arranging caterers for the event, but where had she got to?

  “You didn’t ask her to join us as your guest?” Dante showed his disapproval with a shake of his head. “Don’t you think she deserves some recognition after everything she does for us? Look at this spread…”