Bound by Love (31 page)

He smiled. “Trust me.”

She clicked her tongue. “I grow weary of those words.”

Before he could respond the door was pulled open to reveal a short, gray-haired housekeeper with a round face and welcoming expression.

She dipped a small curtsy. “Your Grace. Miss Karkoff. Welcome. If you will follow me?”

Turning, she headed across the paneled foyer to the curved stairs. Leonida shot Stefan a frustrated glare, but, too well behaved to cause a scene, she followed in the
servant’s wake. Reaching the upper floor, the woman halted at the nearest door and stood aside as Stefan and Leonida entered the room.

It was a small, cozy chamber with paneling on the bottom of the walls and the upper halves painted with pastoral scenes. There was a green striped sofa set beneath a window overlooking a distant lake and matching chairs near a porcelain stove. In the center of the room was a cherrywood table laden with a number of covered dishes.

“I believe that you will find that I have provided all that you requested,” the housekeeper murmured.

“It is perfect. Thank you.” Reaching beneath his jacket Stefan pulled out a large coin and pressed it into the servant’s hand. “That will be all.”

“Very good.”

With a knowing smile the woman turned to disappear down the hallway and Stefan closed the door, silently turning the key that had been left conveniently in the lock.

Unaware that they were soon to be completely alone in the house, Leonida had drifted toward the table, her brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

“Who owns this place?”

He pulled out a chair, waiting for her to have a seat before gently removing her bonnet and rounding the table to settle on his own chair.

“Vanya Petrova, although she chooses to keep her connection to this particular home private.”

“Why?”

He chose his words with care. Vanya rarely revealed her efforts to protect Alexander Pavlovich.

“There are occasions when she prefers to meet with her associates in secret,” he said, filling her plate with poached salmon with a delicate mushroom sauce, roasted pheasant and potatoes in mint.

Taking her plate, Leonida glanced toward the closed door. “So we are alone?”

He filled his own plate then poured them each a glass of the wine.

“My servants will remain on guard outside. There is no danger.”

“That depends upon your notion of danger.”

He slowly smiled. “Come, Leonida, I have requested your favorite dishes.” He did not allow himself to consider the fact he had kept such a close watch on Leonida that he knew precisely what she preferred. “What is the harm in a simple luncheon?”

Placing a linen napkin in her lap, Leonida picked up her fork. “I am bound to regret this.”

“I promise to ensure you have nothing to regret.”

A flush touched her cheeks at the intimate edge in his voice and ducking her head, she concentrated on her meal. Stefan did not press his advantage, instead taking pleasure in watching her eat the delicately prepared meal.

She had grown far too thin from her grueling journey back to Russia, and worse, it was obvious she was not sleeping well. It goaded his most primitive urge to protect her.

Only when her plate was empty did Leonida lift her head, her composure once again intact. “Did you speak with the Emperor?”

He sipped at his wine. “Only briefly.”

“I suppose he demanded to know your reason for visiting Russia?”

Stefan shrugged. In truth, he had been pleasantly surprised by his encounter with Alexander Pavlovich. The Emperor had naturally been curious by his unexpected arrival, but he had not probed as Stefan had expected. Instead, he had accepted Stefan’s blithe explanation with remarkable ease.

Of course, there had been a speculative gleam in the older man’s steady gaze. As if he knew more than Stefan would be comfortable admitting.

“He did,” Stefan admitted.

“And?”

“I assured him that after your departure from England I became concerned at the notion of traveling such a vast distance with only servants to bear you company. I desired to make sure you arrived safely.”

Her brows lifted. “He believed you?”

“Who can say for certain? Alexander Pavlovich is notoriously capable of keeping his thoughts to himself. At least I have not yet been tossed into the dungeons.”

“An oversight that would no doubt be corrected if he discovered you have brought me to this remote house without a proper chaperone,” she dryly retorted.

With a smile Stefan shifted his chair until he was seated close to her side.

“As you have repeatedly informed me, there are some things best kept from the Emperor.”

“When it is convenient for you,” she reproached.

“Convenient for the both of us,” he murmured, reaching for a strawberry and pressing it to her lips. “Allow me.”

She sank her teeth into the berry, her breath quickening. “I am capable of feeding myself.”

“Obviously, but this is far more enjoyable,” he rasped.

“What if I bite your fingers?”

His body tightened, his gaze captured by the drop of juice that clung to her bottom lip.

“You can bite me anywhere you desire.”

“Do not tempt me.”

With a chuckle he lowered his head to lick the juice from her lips. “That is precisely what I am attempting to do,” he whispered.

“Stefan.”

“You taste of strawberries.” He stole a kiss. And then another. “I love strawberries.”

Her hands lifted to his chest, but she did not press him away. “You have not finished your meal.”

“What I hunger for cannot be found on my plate.” He
traced her lips with his tongue, then kissed a path to the curve of her neck, halting at the edge of the pearls. “Christ, I have missed you, Leonida. The feel of your skin, the scent of your hair, the soft moans you whisper in my ear.”

She shuddered, her head tilting back in silent encouragement. “We should not be here.”

Stefan continued downward, exploring the line of her shoulder with slow, lingering kisses.

“Do you want me to return you to your home?”

“I…”

“Leonida?”

There was a long, agonizing pause. Continuing his soft caresses, Stefan swallowed his urge to demand she put them both out of their misery. He had waited this long for her willing capitulation; he would not ruin it with a few ill-chosen words.

Preparing himself to endure yet more frustration, Stefan nearly shouted in relief when Leonida heaved a soft sigh and her arms curled around his neck.

“No.”

“Thank God,” Stefan growled.

Rising from the chair, he scooped Leonida in his arms and carried her to the nearby sofa, tenderly laying her on the cushions before straightening and tugging off his clothes.

Acutely aware of Leonida’s heated gaze watching his jerky movements, Stefan was fully aroused as he knelt beside the sofa. Who the devil knew that stripping for a woman could be so erotic?

Grasping a handful of golden curls, he leaned forward to claim her lips in a greedy kiss, his free hand slipping beneath her to tug at the ribbons of her gown.

She tasted of strawberries and sweet temptation. A heady combination that spread through his body, drowning the world to leave only Leonida and his aching need. Roughly pulling her gown off her slender body, he impatiently struggled with her corset and thin shift.

Once rid of the bulk of her attire, Stefan dragged his mouth from her lips, spreading kisses down her throat before pausing to savor the tightly budded nipples. He smiled as she moaned in pleasure, her back arching as he continued his path over the flat plane of her stomach.

She was so tiny, so delicate. Like a fragile jasmine blossom.

Stroking his fingers down the backs of her legs, he tugged off her slippers and followed them with her silk stockings.

Slowly pulling back, Stefan studied her bare form lying against the sofa, her golden curls shimmering in the slanting sunlight.

She was stunningly beautiful, of course. But that did not explain why his heart squeezed with an alarming sense of fulfillment. As if something vital had been missing from his life until this moment.

Dislodging the dangerous thought from his mind, Stefan shifted to kiss the tips of her dainty toes, ignoring her breathless giggles. He intended to taste every delicious curve, every elegant line.

His decision made, he explored the slender length of her leg as she squirmed beneath him. At last reaching her upper thigh, Stefan tugged one leg off the sofa to spread her wide for his caresses. He moaned as he realized she was already damp with anticipation, her musky scent making his erection jerk in response.

He had dreamed of this precise moment for far too many nights. Now his body threatened revolt before he could fully savor the delectable encounter.

With a tortured moan, he shifted to run his tongue through her moist heat, delighted by her choked shriek of pleasure. This was how he wanted her. Warm and wet and boneless with need.

Stefan continued to tease her tiny bud, reveling in her soft pants and broken pleas for release. Only when he was
certain she was on the crest of her climax did he poise himself above her, gazing down at her smoldering gaze with a sense of awe.

His woman.

His and his alone.

“Leonida,” he groaned, not certain what he was demanding.

Not until she lifted her arms and plunged her fingers into his hair, dragging his face down for a searing kiss.

“Please, Stefan.”

He did not make her ask again. Cupping her face in his hands, he positioned himself at her entrance, then with one hard thrust, he penetrated her to the hilt.

She bowed beneath him, moaning in satisfaction as he stroked with an increasing urgency. His intention to be gentle was swiftly forgotten as her legs wrapped around his waist, her hips moving in time to his fevered pace.

“God, Leonida, you feel so good,” he panted, his heart thundering and his body clenched with his building climax. “So damn good.”

“Stefan…” Her words broke off with a cry of release, her eyes squeezing shut as she shuddered in bliss.

Stefan growled as he felt her tiny convulsions rippling over his erection. The exquisite sensation tossed him over the edge, and giving one last thrust his orgasm slammed into him. Time seemed to halt as he allowed his seed to pump into her womb with stunning pleasure.

Christ.

L
ATER THAT EVENING
, Stefan was in his private chambers in Vanya Petrova’s house, leaning against the window as he watched the sun set over the city.

It was a striking view, he had to admit. The golden domes glowed with dazzling beauty beneath the lingering rays and the carved angels appeared prepared to take off in flight.

A far different sight from the grime and soot of London.

Of course, a part of his pleasure with the current scene might simply be his overall sense of goodwill.

Although he had returned to Vanya’s two hours ago to bathe and change into a dove-gray coat and silver waistcoat with gray pantaloons, he was still basking in a glow of contentment.

Toying with the diamond stickpin in his crisply starched cravat, Stefan fondly recalled the afternoon in the arms of Leonida.

He had just reached the memory of their third bout of lovemaking when the door opened and Boris stepped into the room. Turning, he watched as the servant closed the door behind his large form, crossing the polished floor with a suspicious expression.

“You are appearing particularly pleased with yourself,” Boris accused. “I presume your luncheon went well?”

“It was…magnificent,” he murmured, frowning as Boris abruptly laughed. “You find something amusing?”

“I am always pleased to witness that daft expression on a man’s face. It proves I am not alone in my suffering.”

“Daft?”

“Like a man who has been hit upside the head with a shovel.” Boris reached out to pat Stefan’s shoulder with a smug smile. “It happens to all of us eventually.”

Stefan’s frown deepened, his warm glow threatened by a sudden chill. He had devoted an immense amount of effort to pretending his obsession with Miss Leonida Karkoff was something that would swiftly pass.

He did not appreciate Boris attempting to ruin his excellent fantasy.

“Nothing has happened beyond a pleasant interlude with a beautiful woman,” he retorted sharply.

“Ignoring the truth will not make it go away.” Boris grimaced. “To be honest it only makes matters worse in the end.”

“Enough.” Stefan shook his head, perfectly capable of ignoring any truth he desired. “Did you manage to get into Sir Charles’s home or not?”

The servant smirked, but he was wise enough to allow Stefan to turn the conversation.

“Surely you did not doubt me?”

“Since I had not yet received word you had been arrested, I was reasonably confident in your success. Did you catch sight of the bastard?”

“No, he has not been to the house for several weeks.” Boris smiled wryly. “But I did catch sight of at least a half dozen men keeping watch on the house.”

Not surprising. Stefan had expected the Countess to have guards looking for Sir Charles. And of course, Herrick Gerhardt would have his own men searching. It was a damned wonder that half of St. Petersburg was not milling outside the bastard’s house.

Which made it all the more astonishing that Boris had managed to slip into and out of the house without being halted.

“It is no wonder he has avoided the place,” he muttered.

Boris shrugged. “He could be dead.”

“I would never be so fortunate. Did you discover anything that might reveal where he is hiding?”

“There were a handful of invitations, but no private correspondence. Either he destroys his letters or he has no one who cares enough to write.”

“Damn.” Stefan considered their few options. “What of his accounts? Does he frequent a brothel or coffeehouse?”

“There were bills from a number of establishments, mostly his tailors and the local grocer. He is deeply in debt.”

It was disappointing, to say the least. How the hell did he find Sir Charles when he didn’t know where to start the search?

He paced the room, something tickling at the back of his mind. What was it? Something Leonida had said. Something…

With an abrupt motion he turned back to Boris. “Leonida mentioned an accomplice,” he said.

“Do you have a name?”

“Not yet.” He grimaced. It would be a simple matter to demand the name from Leonida, but he had no desire to force her to recall anything connected to Sir Charles. Besides, she was bound to make a fuss if she realized he was searching for the murderous nobleman. He would have to find a different means of acquiring the information. “Did you find nothing of worth?”

There was a short pause before Boris reached beneath his jacket and pulled out three leather bags held closed with drawstrings. He tossed them on the top of a jade-inlaid table.

“These were hidden in a locked drawer of his desk.”

Stefan crossed to tug open the first bag, pulling out the official English passport.

“Forged papers. He will need these to travel out of Russia without being halted by Gerhardt’s men.” He reached for the second bag and dumped out a handful of coins. “A few rubles.” He reached for the last and largest
bag, pulling open the drawstrings and shaking out a strange combination of buttons and ribbons and two cheap brooches. He frowned in confusion at the obviously feminine objects. Why would a man keep such trinkets protected in a locked drawer? They must have some meaning for him. Leaning forward, Stefan realized there was something staining the ribbons. The candlelight flickered and suddenly he was stepping backward, a sick disgust rolling through his stomach. Blood. “Holy hell.”

Boris shuddered. “Exactly.”

“He is truly mad.”

“Yes.”

Overcoming his revulsion, Stefan gathered the sordid mementos, along with the passport, and tossed them into the burning fire. He shivered, imagining Sir Charles among the flames. The sooner the man was sent to hell the better.

“Leonida will never be safe so long as he is out there.”

“Do you want me to keep a watch on the house?”

“It would seem that it is already closely guarded.” He restlessly moved to collect his hat and gloves from the dresser. “I will learn the name of his associate. Perhaps he can be persuaded to reveal where the bastard is hiding.”

“Then I wait.” Boris watched as Stefan tugged on his gloves. “Another dinner at the palace?”

Stefan smiled, his lingering horror thankfully replaced with a stab of anticipation. Leonida had promised she would be in attendance. Even though it had only been a few hours, he was anxious to be at her side.

“What can I do?” he teased, opening the door. “The Emperor is obviously charmed by my company.”

“Or he has laced your food with hemlock.”

Stefan laughed. “Thank you, Boris.”

“Always pleased to be of service.”

Heading out of Vanya’s townhouse, Stefan discovered his carriage awaiting him and within less than an hour he
had navigated the thick traffic and reached the reception rooms of the palace.

He paused just inside the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the glittering crowd. At first glance there was no sight of Leonida.

Was she late? Or had something happened?

His heart squeezed with unease and he was debating the wisdom of going in search when the crowd shifted and he was distracted by the sight of golden curls.

Leonida.

His anxiety eased, but as his hungry gaze skimmed over her white lace gown worn over a silver underskirt and diamonds shimmering about her neck, he realized that he had been unable to see her earlier because she was surrounded by a horde of elegant gentlemen, each of them vying to gain her attention.

Even as he watched one of them leaned forward to whisper in Leonida’s ear, his fingers stroking down her bare arm.

A biting anger exploded through him, his hands clenched at his sides. Damn the preening buffoons. They would soon discover the danger in pestering his woman.

Oblivious to everything but the sight of Leonida, Stefan charged forward, nearly bowling down the gaunt, silver-haired gentleman who deliberately stepped in his path.

“Your Grace,” Herrick Gerhardt said, his voice hard.

For a crazed moment, Stefan continued forward, determined to knock the old soldier out of his way. Another man was touching Leonida. He would rip off his damn arm and shove it down his throat.

Then, catching sight of the dark eyes that held a ruthless warning, he grimly forced himself to halt. Gerhardt was quite capable of having him tossed from the palace with a nod toward one of the numerous guards.

Dammit. He was a duke. He was not accustomed to having others meddling in his affairs.

“Gerhardt,” he growled.

The older man impaled him with a cold glare. “You will find the Emperor in the Throne Room.”

“A rather obvious location,” Stefan dryly retorted. “I will make my bow in a moment.”

“I regret having to disagree, but you will make it now.”

Aware of several gazes trained in their direction, Stefan deliberately adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, disguising the fierce emotions clamoring through him behind a mask of cool composure.

“You seem to forget, Gerhardt, that I am not a loyal Russian servant. I do not take orders from you.”

“I am not speaking for the Emperor, but as a gentleman who truly cares for Leonida and her happiness.”

A possessive fury clenched his heart.

“An even more dangerous proposition,” he said, his voice low, lethal.

“Do not be an idiot, Huntley, she is like a daughter to me,” Herrick snapped.

Stefan was far from reassured. Whatever the older man’s feelings for Leonida, his one purpose was to halt Stefan’s pursuit.

Something Stefan would not tolerate.

“And you believe you can keep me away from her?”

“If it was at all possible, I most certainly would,” Herrick admitted in icy tones. “Unfortunately, all I can do is attempt to prevent you from causing scandal.”

Stefan’s brows snapped together at the ludicrous accusation. Was the man utterly blind? “The only scandal is you allowing Leonida to be besieged by a pack of worthless fribbles. It will be a miracle if she is not trampled.”

“Those fribbles have been besieging Leonida since she was first introduced to society. There is no danger of gossip unless some fool charges across the room and begins snapping and snarling like a hound protecting his favorite bone.”

A tiny voice in the back of Stefan’s mind whispered that
Gerhardt was speaking only the truth. And that if he were capable of rational thought, he would accept that he was overreacting.

He gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore that unwelcomed voice. “Have you considered the notion that Leonida might appreciate being rescued from the bothersome pests?”

“No.” Herrick’s expression was as hard and unyielding as granite. “And neither would you if you were concerned for Leonida rather than your own selfish jealousy.”

He jerked at the sharp attack. “What are you implying?”

“Leonida has little in common with her mother.”

“I am well aware, not to mention excessively grateful, of that fact,” he snapped.

“The Countess has always been a vivacious woman who enjoys flouting the dictates of society and prefers to attract attention,” Herrick continued, ignoring Stefan’s interruption. “Leonida is quite the opposite. The speculation that has followed her from the day she was born has been a never-ending burden. She will not thank you for creating a scene.”

Stefan’s gaze turned back to Leonida as he forced himself to take stock of her brittle smile and the stiff set of her shoulders. Unlike so many women, she truly disliked the swarm of gentlemen clamoring for her attention. She did not coyly flirt while deftly keeping the men at bay. She did not giggle and blush at their comments. She did not pout when they glanced away.

In truth, she looked like she would be quite happy if she could disappear behind one the towering Russian vases.

Hardly a woman who would preen to have her jealous lover storming to her side and tossing the worthless peacocks through the nearest window.

Of course, understanding that he would only embarrass Leonida did not ease his burning need to stake his public claim upon her.

“You cannot expect me to ignore her for the entire evening.”

“I expect you to behave as a gentleman.”

Stefan wrenched his gaze from Leonida, silently acknowledging the irony of Herrick’s words. From his earliest memories he had always tried to do what was right, what he believed to be his duty, while Edmond rebelled. No one acquainted with him would believe he needed to be reminded he was a gentleman.

Or that in this moment he did not give a damn about his family’s prestigious name so long as Leonida remained out of his grasp.

Wrenching his gaze from the woman who could torment him even from afar, Stefan gathered his unruly thoughts and forced his attention back to his companion.

If he were forced to obey the ridiculous rules of society, then he would not allow the entire night to be a complete waste.

“And what is my reward?”

“You might avoid a public execution.”

Stefan folded his arms over his chest. “Come, Gerhardt, you have asked a favor of me, I surely deserve one in return.”