Secret Fire

by Johanna Lindsey

  He shoved the heavy wardrobe away from the window, panting with the effort, then welcomed the early-morning breeze that wafted in.

  “Thank you, Vladimir,” the Prince said from behind him. “I was dreading the thought of putting my shoulder to that clumsy thing.”

  “My lord!” Vladimir swung around. “Forgive me. I was just going to wake her and—”

  “Don’t.”

  “But—”

  “Let her sleep. She needs it. And I have an urge to see what she’s like when she has her wits about her.”

  “I…don’t recommend it,” Vladimir said hesitantly. “She’s not a very pleasant young woman.”

  “Isn’t she? Now I find that fascinating, considering how pleasant she has been all evening. In fact I can’t remember when I last enjoyed myself so.”

  Vladimir relaxed. The Prince wasn’t fencing with words, as he sometimes did in his sardonic way, but was truly well pleased. The gamble had paid off. Now if they could only sail without any mishap to disturb this good mood. But the woman—no, surely Dimitri had charmed her and she wouldn’t be disagreeable this morning.

  Dimitri turned toward the bed, where just a slim arm and a pale cheek were visible on the pillow, her abundant brown locks in utter disarray hiding everything else. He had been compelled to come back to this room. He had meant to bathe and get a few hours’ sleep before the hectic preparations for departure began. The bath he had had, but he had been unable to dismiss the woman from his thoughts.

  He had spoken the truth to Vladimir. He didn’t think he had ever spent such an unusual and yet delightful evening. By rights he should have been as exhausted as the woman was. But then he had paced himself, held back his own pleasure, deliberately conserving his strength by satisfying her in other ways. The thought of having to summon a few of his men to take over if he should grow weary had disgusted him. And then too, he simply hadn’t wanted to share this treasure.

  It was incredible, but he had actually been disappointed when she had finally succumbed to sleep. He still wasn’t tired, was in fact feeling quite vigorous.

  “Did you know she was a virgin, Vladimir?”

  “No, my lord. Did it matter?”

  “I think to her it did. How much were you going to pay her?”

  Considering this new information, Vladimir doubled the figure he had in mind. “A hundred English pounds.”

  Dimitri looked sideways at him. “Make it a thousand—no, two thousand. I want her to be able to splurge on some pretty clothes. That rag she was wearing was atrocious. In fact, have we nothing more suitable she can wear when she wakes?”

  Vladimir shouldn’t really have been surprised. The Prince’s generosity was renowned. And yet this woman was no more than a simple English peasant.

  “Most of the servants’ belongings were taken to the ship yesterday, my lord.”

  “And I don’t suppose Anastasia would agree to give up one of her dresses? No, of course she wouldn’t. She was in a pout all evening because I wouldn’t let her carouse in London last night. I think right now she would relish any reason to spite me.”

  Vladimir hesitated, but if it was Dimitri’s wish to clothe the wench in finery…no, he couldn’t bring himself to mention that Countess Rothkovna’s clothes had sailed from Russia with them even if she hadn’t. Dimitri might appreciate the subtle revenge of giving away all of the Countess’s things, since he was undoubtedly through with her after the way she had disappointed him, but Vladimir just couldn’t bring himself to gift this thoroughly disagreeable peasant with such an expensive wardrobe. A more becoming dress was one thing, an exceedingly costly one quite another.

  “I will send one of the women to obtain something suitable once the shops open,” Vladimir suggested, but added, “if you think she will be here that long.”

  “No, don’t bother. It was just a thought, and the pleasure of ordering that rag thrown away.” Dimitri waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll call you when she is ready to leave.”

  So he was staying in this room with her? His interest was still that piqued? Vladimir hesitated again. He had never put his wishes before the master’s, as he had just done. Yet he did not have to appease the Prince. Dimitri was still in an excellent mood. But Vladimir disliked the woman too much after all the frustration and anxiety she had caused with her stubbornness, even if she had pleased Dimitri in the end. She was being given much too much, in his opinion, as it was. She wouldn’t get any extras thrown in if he could help it.

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Vladimir left, closing the door softly, and went down to tell Marusia about this latest quirk of the Prince’s. But she would probably be amused and remind him that Dimitri’s father had also been fascinated by an Englishwoman, enough to marry her. Thank God this English wench was not royalty, as the Lady Anne had been.

  In the room, Dimitri turned off the lamps that had burned all night, then stretched out on the bed he had left only a few hours ago. Katherine lay on her stomach, her face turned toward him. He brushed the hair back from her cheek for a better view. She didn’t stir.

  In sleep, the severe lines of her face were softened, just as they had been in her passion. Dimitri couldn’t forget that passion. Of course it was the drug that had produced it, not him—which was why he wanted her one more time, without the drug controlling her. In part he felt a challenge, a desire to see if he could stimulate the same heights of feeling in her. But perversely, he also felt a need to prove that in reality she could not possibly be as sexy and incredibly sensual as she had been under the influence of the cantharides.

  At the moment, however, she needed a few more hours’ sleep to replenish her strength. Having to wait was inconvenient. Patience was not one of his better qualities. But he had nothing else to do this morning before he sailed.

  Chapter Eight

  As the sun rose higher, the activity in the house increased, for the Prince liked to leave a place as he found it. The Duke of Albemarle’s servants, dismissed yesterday because the Prince liked only his own staff around him, would find nothing amiss when they returned later that day. But in the room on the third floor, all was still quiet.

  Vladimir, waiting patiently at the end of the hall to be summoned, assumed Dimitri had fallen asleep. Three hours more he had spent with the woman. He must be asleep. But there was still time before they were due at the docks. He would wait awhile yet before disturbing him.

  Dimitri was quite awake, still not the least bit tired. He had surprised himself by his patience, for the morning was moving by at a devilishly slow rate. And he had managed to keep his hands off of Katherine until now. But at last he drew her into his arms and began to caress her awake. She fought against him peevishly.

  “Not now, Lucy! Do go away!”

  Dimitri smiled, wondering only vaguely who Lucy might be. Katherine had spoken French to him last night because he had first addressed her in French, and she spoke it superbly. But English suited her much better, and the commanding tone she affected was rather amusing. Still, English was not the language he preferred, so he didn’t bother using it.

  “Come, Katya, join me,” he coaxed her, his fingers playing with the silky skin of her shoulder. “I grow bored waiting for you to wake.”

  Her eyes opened on a level with his, their noses nearly touching. She blinked once, but couldn’t seem to focus clearly. There was no sign of recognition, none of surprise, either, or even of confusion. It was as if she didn’t even see him. But she did. She moved back slowly until she was at arm’s length. All the while her eyes were moving over him, clear down to his toes, then back up again, in a way that was quite unnerving, for Dimitri had the distinct impression that she found him wanting.

  Katherine was in fact having difficulty accepting that he was real. Adonis again, had been her first annoying thought. The fairy-tale prince. Her practical eye truly doubted what she was seeing, for reality didn’t create men like this.

  “Do you disappear at the stroke of mid
night?”

  Dimitri burst into delighted laughter. “If you say you have forgotten me so soon, little one, I will be pleased to refresh your memory.”

  Katherine flushed with flaming color from the roots of her hair to the cover, which she gripped tightly to her breasts as she sat up. She remembered.

  “Oh, God!” she moaned, only to demand quickly, “Why are you still here? You could have at least had the decency to let me deal with my shame alone!”

  “But why should you be ashamed at all? You have done nothing wrong.”

  “Well I know it,” she agreed bitterly. “The wrong was done to me. And you—oh, God, just go away!”

  Her hands slid over her face to cover her eyes. Her shoulders were bent dejectedly. Fretfully she rocked back and forth, giving Dimitri a tantalizing view of her smooth back and a small portion of her derriere.

  “You aren’t crying, are you?” he asked casually.

  Katherine stilled, but didn’t lower her hands, so that her voice came out in a mumble. “I don’t cry, and why aren’t you leaving?”

  “Is that why you’re hiding, waiting for me to leave? If it is, you may as well give up. I’m staying right here.”

  Her hands fell away to reveal eyes narrowed and sparkling with rancor. “Then I’ll leave!”

  And she started to do so, only the cover she attempted to drag with her wouldn’t budge. Dimitri was stretched out on top of it and made no effort to move.

  Katherine twisted back to face him. “Get up!”

  “No,” he said simply, crossing his arms at the back of his neck in a thoroughly relaxed manner.

  “Playtime is over, Alexandrov,” Katherine warned in a frigid tone. “What the devil do you mean, no?”

  “Katya, please, I thought we had dispensed with formality,” he chided gently.

  “Must I remind you we haven’t been introduced?”

  “So proper? Very well.” He sighed. “Dimitri Petrovich Alexandrov.”

  “You forget your title,” she sneered disdainfully. “Prince, isn’t it?”

  A single dark brow rose questioningly. “That displeases you?”

  “It doesn’t matter in the least to me one way or another. Now I would appreciate some privacy so I can dress and leave this place, if you don’t mind.”

  “But what is your hurry? I have ample time—”

  “I don’t! Good Lord, I have been kept here all night. My father will be frantic with worry!”

  “A simple matter. I will send someone to let him know you are safe, if you’ll just give me the address.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not about to give you the means to find me again. When I leave here, it will be the very last you will see of me.”

  He wished she hadn’t said that. It struck a chord of regret in him that was wholly unexpected. He realized that if he had the time, he would delight in getting to know this young woman better. She was so totally refreshing, the first woman he had ever encountered who seemed genuinely unimpressed by his title, wealth, and charm. And not to overstate the case, he knew he appealed to women physically. Yet the little dove couldn’t wait to fly the coop.

  Impulsively Dimitri rolled to face her and asked, “Would you like to visit Russia?”

  She snorted. “That doesn’t deserve an answer.”

  “Careful, Katya, or I will begin to think you don’t like me.”

  “I don’t know you!”

  “You know me very well.”

  “Being acquainted with your body is not knowing you. I know your name and that you’re leaving England today. That is the most I know about you—no, I take that back. I also know that your servants go to criminal lengths to please you!”

  “Ah, now we come to the heart of the matter. You object to the manner of our first meeting. That is reasonable. You had little choice in the matter. But, Katherine, neither did I. Well, that is not exactly true. I did have a choice. I could have left you alone to suffer.”

  She glared at him for that pointed reminder. “If you expect me to thank you for your assistance last night, I must disappoint you. I’m not stupid. I know exactly why I was given that foul drug. It was for your benefit, because I had refused to go along with your plans for the evening. And that reminds me: I want your man brought before a magistrate. He’s not getting away with this.”

  “Come now, no harm was really done. True, you are no longer a maiden, but that is a matter to rejoice in, not bemoan.”

  If it hadn’t been such a horrid situation and she the victim, Katherine might have laughed at such an absurdity, for she had no doubt he was sincere. He actually believed she had suffered no great loss, which stated clearly the extent of his libertinism. But to treat that as she would have liked would only confound him, considering who he thought she was, or rather, what she was. And yet she had the feeling that his opinion would be no different if he knew the truth.

  She had to willfully control her temper. “You conveniently overlook the fact that I was kidnapped, literally dragged off the street, tossed into a carriage, gagged, and then secreted in this house, where I was detained all day in this room. I was abused, threatened—”

  “Threatened?” Dimitri frowned.

  “Yes, threatened. I was quite ready to scream my head off and was told the guards posted outside my door would not hesitate to restrain me if I did so. I was likewise warned force would be used if I didn’t bathe or eat.”

  “Trifles.” Dimitri waved a hand dismissively. “You weren’t actually hurt, were you?”

  “That is beside the point! Kirov had no right to bring me here or keep me here all against my will!”

  “You are objecting too much at this point, little one, considering in the end you enjoyed yourself. Let the matter go. To make a fuss now will avail you nothing. And Vladimir has been instructed to deal with you generously now.”

  “Money again?” she asked in a deceptively soft tone.

  “Of course. I pay for my pleasure—”

  “Oh, God!” she shrieked furiously. “How many times must I say it? I was not, am not, nor will I ever be for sale!”

  “You would refuse two thousand pounds?”

  If he thought the extent of his generosity would effect an immediate about-face in her, he was quickly disabused of that notion. “I not only refuse it, I would be happy to tell you what you can do with it.”

  “Please don’t,” he said distastefully.

  “Nor can you buy my silence, so don’t bother insulting me further.”

  “Silence?”

  “Good Lord, haven’t you been listening?”

  “To every word,” he assured her, smiling. “Now, can’t we dispense with this? Come, Katya.”

  She drew back, alarmed, when he reached for her. “Don’t! Please!”

  The beseeching note in her voice infuriated her, but she couldn’t help it. After last night she was terrified of her own reaction should he touch her. She had never met a man as handsome as he. There was something almost hypnotizing about his beauty. That he had wanted her, that he had made love to her all night, was astonishing. It took a concerted effort to concentrate, to protect herself with her well-founded anger, and not just simply stare at him.

  Instead of being annoyed by her response, Dimitri was rather pleased. He was too familiar with women being unable to resist him to mistake her present dilemma. He should press his advantage now, but he hesitated. As much as he still wanted her, she was too agitated at the moment and not likely to calm down any time soon.

  He dropped his hand with a sigh. “Very well, little one. I had hoped—never mind.” He sat up on his side of the bed, but glanced over his shoulder at her, his beguiling grin devastating. “You are sure?”

  Katherine groaned inwardly. She would have liked to pretend ignorance of what he was intimating, but she couldn’t. His look was explanatory in itself. Good Lord, how could he possibly still want to make love after the excesses of the night?

  “Quite sure,” Katherine answered, praying that now he
would leave.

  He stood up, but not to leave yet. He walked over to the chair where her clothes lay, and came back to the foot of the bed, handing them to her.

  “You should accept the money, Katya, whether you want it or not.”

  She was staring distastefully at the black dress. He was staring at the petticoats, noting that she did have better taste, at least in underclothes.

  He added gently, “If I offended you by offering too much, it was only with the thought that you might like to improve your wardrobe. It was intended as a gift, no more.”

  Her eyes rose and rose until they met his. Why hadn’t she noted how incredibly tall he was last night?

  “I can’t accept gifts from you either.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t, that’s all.”

  He was finally annoyed. She was impossible! Who was she to refuse his generosity?

  “You will accept, miss, and I will hear no more about it,” he stated imperiously. “Now I will send a maid to assist you, and then Vladimir will take you—”

  “Don’t you dare send that brute in here again,” she cut him off sharply. “You see, you haven’t listened to me at all. I told you I’m having Kirov arrested.”

  “I regret that I cannot appease your wounded sensibilities by allowing that, my dear. I won’t leave my man behind.”

  “You will have no choice, just as I had no choice.” How it delighted her to be able to say that.

  His smile was condescending. “You forget we sail today.”

  “Your ship can be detained,” she retorted.

  His lips tightened ominously. “So can you be, until it is too late for you to cause any trouble.”

  “Go right ahead,” she said rashly. “But you underestimate me if you think that will be the end of it.”

  Dimitri refused to quibble any longer. He was amazed he had stayed to argue this long. What could she do anyway? The English authorities would not dare to detain him on the word of a mere servant. The idea was laughable.

  With a curt nod, Dimitri left the room. But halfway down the hall he stopped short. He was forgetting this was not Russia. Russian laws were made for the aristocracy. English laws took commoners’ welfare into account. Public opinion was not discounted here. The wench could in fact create a public hue and cry that might well reach the ears of the Queen.