Seduced by the Prince's Kiss

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Petrova is with me. Please say you’ll stay.’

  ‘Then, I can hardly refuse.’ The offer was so odd he was forced to satisfy his curiosity. Perhaps Shevchenko was counting on it. There was game afoot and if he left, he’d miss it. It could hardly go badly for him. Shevchenko didn’t know it yet, but he held all the cards: the boy, the confession and, soon, the content of the caverns under Seacrest. By the end of the evening, Shevchenko would be in chains. This would be the prince’s last meal as a free man and Miss Petrova would be at his mercy without her protector. What might she be willing to do to save her prince? It seemed just deserts were on the menu tonight and he was ready to feast.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘More wine?’ Anna signalled for another bottle to be opened—the ninth since she and Stepan, Denning and his four lieutenants had sat down for supper—the second since Stepan had left the table to ‘check on a few things’. Only the second? It seemed like he’d been gone an eternity. She could imagine him in her mind, down in the hold, directing the silent removal of casks and trunks with their covert interiors. Silence was the key to success.

  Nine bottles gone and it wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted the men drunk, drunk enough to swagger home, the cargo momentarily forgotten, drunk enough to not hear the men moving cargo on the decks outside these doors. In that regard, it had gone well so far. The louder they could be in here, the more it would help, though. The wine was supposed to encourage that. But the men all seemed to be terribly well mannered and decent, more was the shame.

  ‘No more for me.’ One young lieutenant waved away Irish with the bottle. Another looked like he was going to follow suit. That was no good. The men must drink.

  Anna rose to her feet, rescuing the bottle from the boy. She put on her charming smile, the one that showed off her dimple. ‘What is this, Lieutenant? No more wine? Say it isn’t so!’ She poured him a full glass, refusing to take no for an answer. She bent low as she did so, giving the blushing young man a look at her cleavage. Sober excise officers were not on the menu tonight.

  ‘And you, Lieutenant? Your glass is shockingly empty!’ She moved from man to man, trailing her hand over shoulders, collars, resting her hand on sleeves, smiling coyly as she poured, bending, laughing, touching as she went, drawing blushes, and eventually bolder, lingering glances. She swept up a fiddle. ‘Do any of you play?’ She smiled warmly until one of them cracked.

  ‘I do, ma’am,’ a stout, ruddy-cheeked soldier offered.

  ‘Oh, fabulous!’ she exclaimed. ‘I want to dance.’ She pulled up the man nearest to her. ‘You’ll dance with me, won’t you?’ She didn’t wait for a response. She drew the young man into the empty space beside the table, putting a hand on his shoulder. She slanted a coy smile at the fiddler. ‘A polka, if you please?’ Within two stanzas she had the room clapping along with the dance, within four she had the men on their feet.

  She winded one officer after another, taking turns with each of the gentlemen. ‘Captain, I believe it is your turn.’ It was hard to keep a smile on her face, more difficult still to take his hand and allow him to touch her body, but she could give none of her repulsion away. She must dance with Denning as she’d danced with his men. She had to keep them laughing, keep them drinking, keep them dancing until they forgot Stepan was absent, until they forgot about the cargo, until they remembered only that they’d had a spectacular night.

  ‘I think champagne is in order!’ she called over her shoulder to Irish as Denning turned her in a tight circle.

  ‘My, my, Miss Petrova, you do know how to throw to party,’ Denning murmured. ‘One has to wonder at your motives?’ His breath was close to her ear. ‘After all, I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.’

  ‘Do you not like to celebrate?’ she teased, flirting outrageously.

  ‘Not usually with my enemies.’ He gave a cold smile. ‘Did you think I had forgotten, Miss Petrova? That your prince brawled with me for touching you? That he nearly broke my jaw?’

  ‘I believe he had just cause. You were threatening me, as I recall.’ Anna smiled, feeling as if that very smile was pasted to her face.

  ‘Persuading, my dear.’ His grip at her waist tightened and she was drawn up hard against his body, a reminder that the captain was a strong man. She would be no match for his physical strength should it come to that. Surely, with four other men present, the captain wouldn’t be able to get away with hurting her. But she’d feel better if Stepan came back. Where was Stepan?

  ‘Tonight, it is my turn to persuade.’ She met his gaze fearlessly. ‘I will prove to you once and for all that Stepan Shevchenko is no smuggler. What sort of smuggler sails his ship into port and lays offshore in plain slight, fixing broken masts?’

  ‘For your sake, I hope you’re right, Miss Petrova. My men will do their duty and uphold the law, even if the outlaw is wearing a very enticing red gown and free with her wine.’

  She tossed her head back and gave a wide smile. Anyone watching them would suspect nothing. ‘It was not illegal to dine and dance or drink the last time I checked. I’ve done nothing wrong, Captain.’

  ‘Not yet. You’re a very good actress, Miss Petrova. You may have missed your calling.’

  ‘Share her, Captain, you’ve had her long enough!’ a lieutenant called out good-naturedly. The wine was starting to take effect. Good. She swung out of the captain’s arms, reaching for the lieutenant.

  She might have kept them dancing all night if it hadn’t been for the champagne. Denning took possession of the bottle when it came and he uncorked the bottle with a resounding pop that cut through the fiddle and the dancing, both which stopped in sudden silence. It was an unfortunate coincidence that, in the silence, a loud thud hit the deck.

  Denning’s eyes narrowed, the frothing bottle forgotten. With one hand he drew a pistol and issued orders. ‘Men, to the decks! Two of you down below, two of you above! Go!’ The cabin cleared with organised alacrity, trademark of the British army.

  ‘Aren’t you needed with your men?’ Anna asked, feeling conspicuous, although it was probably better if she kept him here. The other officers were young, perhaps impressionable and perhaps too drunk to understand whatever it was they might see. They could be subdued before they drew their weapons or thought to fire them if it came to that. But that didn’t mean she was safe in here, alone with him.

  ‘What do you think my men might find?’ He eyed her coldly, filling two glasses with the iced champagne. ‘Untaxed casks of spirits?’ He handed her a glass, his body close enough to press her back against the edge of the table.

  ‘Why would you think they’d find anything when you failed to find something?’ Anna couldn’t resist the goad. ‘The only goods on this ship are the ones you’ve seen and the ones Stepan has paid the duty on. He is an honest, upstanding...’

  Denning slammed a hand down on the table, the goblets jumping. It took all her willpower not to jump, too. ‘What do you take me for, Miss Petrova? Do you think for one minute that you’re fooling me? Stepan Shevchenko is no more an honest business man than you are an innocent miss. He is a high-class smuggler and you, Miss Petrova, are his whore.’

  Anna went still. ‘You have no proof of any of that. Those are the delusions of your own mind. You’re jealous that I prefer Prince Shevchenko to you, that is all.’ She desperately wanted a weapon. She could break a glass...she could attempt palming a butter knife with its blunt edge. But neither of those would do much against the captain.

  Denning pressed against her, crushing her red skirts against his trousers. ‘I have something better than proof. I have two boys in my custody, one of whom confessed to a smuggling operation being run beneath the cliffs of Seacrest, the very home where Shevchenko lives.’ Her immediate thoughts were for Joseph. Had he confessed? What had Denning done to coerce him? But the second boy? Who would that be? Was Denning
lying, trying to frighten her? Her mind tried to sift through the information and separate fact from fiction.

  ‘I am not bluffing, Miss Petrova. I can see you’re weighing the odds, wondering if I tell the truth. I have the clerk from Shevchenko’s warehouse, in case you’re wondering. He’s a far weaker specimen than Shevchenko’s crew chief.’ He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. ‘I’ve always admired your skin, Miss Petrova. I would hate to see it ruined. Have you ever seen ruined skin? Say after a flogging? Bloody nasty, it is, and it never heals well. Scars for a lifetime.’ He turned her face left and then right. ‘Same with knife-cuts. Scars for ever, especially if the cut is deep enough.’

  ‘You seem to make a habit of telling me grisly tales, Captain,’ Anna replied coolly. ‘For the record, I don’t find it appealing.’

  His hand closed over the base of her throat, his thumb covering the pulse note there. She fought back her panic with logic. He was not going to strangle her. She was too valuable to him for a while longer. ‘It’s not meant to be appealing, it’s meant to be instructive. It’s very difficult to watch another suffer, especially when the other is a friend or a loved one—at least young Abernathy would agree with that. He didn’t last long once we started in on Raleigh. Seems Abernathy was quite fond of his friend. I only got ten good lashes in. Apparently Abernathy was willing to do anything to save Raleigh, even sell out Prince Shevchenko.’ His eyes gave her a narrow caress as he studied her throat. ‘Too bad his confession was too late. In the selling out of the prince, Abernathy incriminated Raleigh, too.’

  ‘They are children!’ Anna argued, although they were only a few years younger than she was.

  ‘They are criminals, Miss Petrova. I had no choice but to indict Raleigh.’ His thumb massaged her neck. ‘I might, however, be willing to commute his sentence.’ He smiled. ‘The question is, what would you do?’ He gave a cold chuckle that sent a shiver through her. ‘I see you are already considering it, already desperate to save the boy. Very well. I will name my price. I don’t think you’ll find it too onerous. Likely you’ve already done this before.’

  Anna swallowed, steeling herself. She could do whatever it took to keep him in this room, to keep him away from Stepan and whatever was going on outside this door.

  ‘I’ve had an obsessive fascination with your mouth ever since I met you, Anna. May I call you Anna? Miss Petrova seems too formal at this juncture.’ His eyes glittered and she watched in horror as his hand slipped to the fall of his trousers. Dear heavens, he couldn’t mean for her to do that?

  ‘On your knees, Anna.’

  His hands pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her to comply, forcing her to face his engorged phallus at eye level, angry and red.

  ‘Let me be very explicit here. I want your mouth on me, my dear.’ His hands twisted in her hair, jerking her head up one last time. ‘Tongue, lips, a little teeth, if you please, and remember—Joseph Raleigh’s life is on the line. If I like it, I’ll save Joseph Raleigh from the noose and you can justify your sin by knowing he’ll live the rest of his life in Australia. Not a bad trade for a few minutes of your time.’ He let go of her hair.

  This was nothing like the intimacies she wanted to share with Stepan because it wasn’t intimate, it was naked aggression. It was power and possession, control and force. It was meant to bend others to one’s will at the expense of their own. It was everything Stepan had stood against in Kuban and here. She’d be damned if she’d betray his cause by giving in. The act itself wasn’t a betrayal, it was merely the product of coercion, of having no choice. But giving in to what it represented—that was betrayal. Anna went back on her heels, a fiery glare in her eyes. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said no.’ It was hard enough to say once, let alone twice, when a boy’s life hung in the balance but she had to claim her own power. If she gave in now there would be no stopping his domination or her decline. He would know her price then. She struggled to rise, hampered by his nearness and her skirts.

  He shoved her down again. ‘I would be very certain about my decision before I stood up, if I were you. A boy will die for your pride.’

  ‘I am.’ She glared her defiance as he pulled her to her feet, the cabin door flying open and glancing off the wall from force. Denning gripped her firmly against him, making her a prisoner to his body as men dragged Stepan into the room between them, bloody, beaten and, worst of all, limp. Her breath caught in undisguised horror.

  ‘What do you think of your defiance now?’ Denning whispered at her ear in triumphant glee. ‘Your champion bleeds like any other man.’

  Dear Lord, what had happened? Something had gone terribly wrong. She felt anger mix with terror. ‘What have you done?’

  ‘My job, Miss Petrova. Nothing more.’

  She jerked away from Denning and ran to Stepan, aware that her freedom to do so was only because Denning allowed it, a taste perhaps of what he’d allow her if she allowed him other tastes.

  ‘Anna,’ Stepan croaked as she stroked back the hair from his forehead to reveal another purpling bruise. His beautiful face was swollen. He’d taken a blow to one eye, another to his jaw, his lip was split, the knuckles of his hand bloodied. From the look of the two soldiers holding him, he’d not gone easily.

  ‘Stepan, I’m here.’ She wished for some water, for a rag to wipe his face. She didn’t dare ask for them for fear Denning would exact a price. She sent up a silent apology to Beatrice Worth and ripped a length of silk from her skirts. She could at least bind his hand.

  ‘Oh, I do not think you’ve earned the right to play nurse.’ Denning tugged her away. ‘You need to earn those favours, Miss Petrova, futile though they may be. No sense doctoring a dead man.’

  ‘He is a prince of the kingdom of Kuban, you cannot...’ The enormity of the situation began to dawn on her in full.

  ‘He is a foreigner, a prince of nothing to me.’ Denning smiled cruelly. ‘He has no power here, but I do and you’d best start appealing to it.’

  In that moment, her principles and Stepan’s causes seemed insignificant. She had only a single thought now. How could she save Stepan and the boys? She used the one weapon left at her disposal. She licked her lips, her hand dropping to the low bodice of her gown in invitation. ‘Whatever you want, my mouth, my body, they are yours, just give me the prince.’

  * * *

  No. No. Anna would not barter herself to his enemy, not for the cause, not for Joseph, not for him. Stepan shook himself, trying to clear his head, trying to rally his strength. All four of them had come at him. He’d bested two of them, but the other two had weapons and he’d been no match for two armed soldiers after already facing two others. The odds had definitely not been even, not with four men working against him in tandem and now Anna needed him, but his strength was spent. He could barely rise, let alone fight three more men.

  Stepan levered himself against one of the soldiers, getting to one knee. He had to at least rise, had to stand and face Denning. He could still bargain. ‘Wait, Denning. Bargain with me instead.’ His voice cracked.

  ‘What do you have to offer me?’ Denning grinned, revelling in his helplessness.

  ‘The vodka. I will tell you where it is, if you let her go.’

  ‘So there is vodka?’ Denning at least looked intrigued.

  ‘You can’t find it without me.’ Stepan wished his head would clear. He wanted to think better. He didn’t dare look at Anna. That would destroy him entirely. He’d failed her tonight. He’d brought her into danger and every fear had been realised. This was what happened when one allowed emotion to interfere. His men were gone. He’d forced the crew to abandon ship instead of fight. He did not want them taken, as well. It was bad enough Joseph was imprisoned and Anna was in the hands of his enemy. Only his cargo was free at the moment.

  Dennin
g held out his hands in an expansive, accepting gesture. ‘Fair enough, I can’t find it without you. Maybe it doesn’t matter.’ Denning gave a laugh. ‘I was just telling Miss Petrova about your clerk, Oliver Abernathy’s confession. I don’t need your confession, as well.’

  ‘Without proof you have nothing to substantiate the brutality you’ve conducted tonight,’ Stepan argued hoarsely, overriding the hurt that lurched in him. His clerk had faltered and, in doing so, the boy had failed them all. That was his fault, too. Oliver had never been cut out for high risks. He should not have been put in that situation. It was one more stone to settle on the scales against him.

  ‘You need more than words, Denning. A boy will say anything under duress. I can give you more.’ He would give Denning all of it to save Anna.

  ‘No, Stepan!’ Anna cried.

  Denning strode towards him until they stood toe to toe. ‘You know you give me your own death warrant.’

  ‘Yes. Put her on a horse, and an hour after she’s left town, I will tell you where the vodka is.’ He would take a small, perverse pleasure in pointing out the spirit had been beneath Denning’s nose the whole time.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stepan studied Denning through one good eye and the swollen slit of another. He didn’t need two good eyes to see the offer was tempting for the captain. The man had come up dry for his efforts too long and the promotion he coveted was waning. ‘It’s a good offer. You won’t get one better.’

  Denning licked his lips. ‘Lieutenant,’ he barked, his gaze not leaving Stepan’s. ‘Take Miss Petrova to the livery and fetch her a horse. See her on her way and report back to the barracks with the exact time she departed.’ He gestured to the officer. ‘I need a pair of irons. We have a dangerous criminal to transport.’

  ‘You can’t do this!’ Anna argued, wrestling with the poor lieutenant, who found it awkward to be confronted with laying hands on a woman. Stepan didn’t envy the lieutenant. Anna struggled towards him, reaching for him, but Stepan held himself apart from her. He would not make it easy for her to touch him. He would break if she did. He needed all of his stoic reserve now. This was his penance for flying too close to the sun, for believing love could be for him.