Love Me Again (25 page)

Gazing about her, enjoying the children's excitement, she suddenly paused. “Varek.” She tugged on his arm and directed his attention across the room. “Look over there. It is Adam.”

Varek's tranquil gaze immediately found the Polish prince, Adam Czartor yski. The handsome prince was standing much too close to the Empress Elizabeth, his solemn gaze watching her every move. Both Varek and Christina could just imagine the pain the empress must be suffering as both her children, her daughter from Adam and, years later, her daughter from Czar Alexander, had died in infancy. She has been childless ever since. And the one thing the Russian empress wanted above all else was a child to love. Unfortunately, Varek and Christina could empathize only too well with her devastating sense of loss and failure.

When Christina saw the empress look over her shoulder at Adam, then turn away again with a dejected tilt of her head, Christina wondered if Elizabeth felt any joy in her reunion with her old love, or if his presence only impressed upon her more the despair of what her life had become.

When Varek started to move them toward the couple, Christina hesitated. It just brought their own tragedy that much more to the forefront to witness the devastation of lost love in another couple they cared about.

“I can't talk to them, Varek. I just can't.” She looked up into his eyes that had darkened in tandem with her distress. “You go. I think I will wander about and find Laure.”

Nodding, Varek brought her hand to his lips. Smiling, he drew a finger down her cheek in a tender caress. “I will find you later, my love. Don't wander too far,” he admonished her with a seductive wink, before he strode off to speak with Adam.

Not bearing to look at the star-crossed lovers anymore, Christina turned away and set herself the task of looking for Laure in the press of revelers. Soon she was laughing again, as she lightly was dodging children and rakes alike, the men around her admiring her with an appreciation that actually had her blushing and rather proud of herself.

“Good Lord, you look beautiful,” came an exclamation from close behind her. Whirling around, Christina hugged Laure. The princess looked frazzled but happy as she kept an eagle eye on her boisterous brood. Laure stepped back, her incredulous eyes running up and down Christina's gown, and touching on her hair. “I hardly recognize you!”

Christina laughed self-consciously as she pulled the shawl over her shoulders. “Was I so drab before?”

“No, of course not. It is just that you look so...”

“Wanton,” Christina injected dryly.

“Alluring.”

“Shameless.”

“Lud, Christina, half the women in this room are more scantily dressed than you.”

“If that's possible,” she mumbled, looking about the crowded room at the other women who were indeed dressed in less than her. Many even had their skirts dampened, an affectation from the French court that many ladies still held true to.

“Varek must be in heaven tonight,” Laure jested as she directed a maid to chase after her youngest son as he shot by them, pursing a squealing piglet.

Christina remembered so clearly Robert's aversion to her dress. He had said it made her look like a slut, perhaps his words had been more kindly expressed, but his meaning was clear enough. Perhaps Varek had thought the same, despite all his protestations to the contrary. “I honestly don't know what he thinks. When I first came down the stairs his mouth dropped open and he stared at me with the most incredulous look in his eyes. I think he was shocked, and not in a good way.”

“He was doubtless wondering how he was going to make it through the evening without exploding in his pants,” came droll murmur from behind them.

Gasping at the crudeness of the comment, Christina and Laure spun around to see the Princess Bagration , the obvious culprit of the risqué comment, and Maria Esterhazy watching Christina with equal smiles of amusement. The Princess Bagration was wearing a sheer sheath of a gown that could only be deemed shocking in the extreme, even by the most liberal of minds. Christina blinked at the flimsy creation, relieved to see that she was overdressed next to this stunning lady.

Soon the ladies were in a lively conversation about men, their appetites, and whether to fulfill them or not. Of course Christina and Laure felt out of their depth in the scandalous commentary, which was readily joined by any number of other women meandering by, and soon they were laughing with a much gusto as the groups of men scattered about the many rooms. Princess Maria had to excuse herself many times in her role as hostess, but she always came back, having too good a time to miss the hilarious comments being thrown about with such irreverent aplomb.

“There he is again,” muttered Laure, as she nudged Christina's elbow.

She looked around and saw Varek watching her from across the room. He was standing in a tight knot of men, obviously not listening to a thing they were saying. His entire attention was transfixed on her. She flushed when all the ladies turned, as one, to watch the archduke across the room.

“He has been pacing around you like stallion that knows it is going to be castrated in the morning,” Princess Fürstenberg told Christina dryly.

The women laughed merrily while Christina blushed yet again, if that was possible. She felt she was burning up, her skin was so sensitive to Varek's every visual caress across the crowded room. Then reluctantly she joined in the merriment around her. It did feel liberating to be so accepted again. She felt like the girl she had been all those years ago, parading about on Varek's arm, knowing she was the envy of every woman in the room. It was vain, and conceited and ... exhilarating.

And the reason for this sense of euphoria stood across the room from her, staring at her like she was his last drink of water before a drought. With this reckless feeling bedeviling her she almost wished he would take the decision out of her hands and just ravish her. Closing her eyes, she sighed, picturing Varek doing exactly that; she wanted to be thrown over his shoulder and carried away to his bed. She wanted to spend blissful, carnal hours tussling with him between cool sheets.

Opening her eyes, her gaze met his with a clash of flaming desire and she shuddered, her heart speeding up till she felt strangled. Holding his look, she willed him to come to her.

And he did, his fierce gaze never wavering from her, as he strode purposefully across the floor toward her, a predator finally tired of the chase and closing in for the kill, and Christina couldn't think of anything sweeter than to die in Varek's arms.

She unconsciously stepped away from the circle of ladies, and when he reached her side, they were standing alone. Taking her hand in his he murmured low, his voice a silken whisper for her ears alone, “remember our pact, lark?”

Her heart was now pounding in her ears and she could only nod.

His fingers tightened about hers. “I am claiming my kiss. Now.” And with this seductive promise ringing in her ears, he pulled her along behind him.

She followed blindly, almost running to keep up with his longer stride, her eyes on the broad width of his back. She was barely aware of the maze of halls and rooms they traversed, or the stairs they climbed. She only knew that finally he pushed open a door, pulled her in and snapped it shut. Immediately she was in his arms, his mouth voraciously claiming hers, his arms bands of hard muscles that wouldn't let her go.

And she didn't want to go anywhere. With a whimper of need, her arms were around his neck and she was hanging on for her own life. At that moment nothing else existed in the world for either of them as they claimed, with selfish need, what they had been denied for years, and their tongues mated in a dance never forgotten.

Varek's hands roamed her body, caressing every bewitching inch he could reach, and frantic to expose to his hands and mouth every inch he couldn't. He insinuated his knee between her legs, and when she urgently pressed her heat against his thigh, straining tighter against him, his groan was deep and long.

Before either knew it, her bodice was somehow around her waist and Varek's hot hands were cupping and kneading her aching breasts. His mouth left hers, traveling down her neck, nipping and stroking her heated flesh till he reached his desired goal, the swollen tips of those generous globes he held reverently in his hands. Bemused, Varek could only stare at them for a lost moment. He didn't remember them this large, or lush. His mouth was parched, hungry as he bent down and drew one hard nipple into his mouth.

Christina collapsed in his arms, sobbing with the joy of it, the absolute carnal truth of this moment. This was where she belonged, where she was meant to be, now and forever. When Varek's teeth gently nipped her, she cried out and rode his hard thigh, lost in the frenzy of the tumultuous yearnings, her body on fire ... on fire...

When his fingers touched the molten heat of her, searing her through the silk of her gown, she threw her head back and sobbed, “Varek!”

He raised his head and his whisper was a harsh rasp against her cheek. “I am here, lark. Right here. Come to me.” His fingers began to stroke her with a feverish intent.

“No!”

The word slithered through his crazed lust like acid. At first he denied her whispered moan; denied the cruelty that she could even utter such a cursed word, and his fingers sank deeper between her thighs, wishing he could rip the silk apart and plunge into the very depths of her. But again he heard her shuddered moan, “Varek, please no.” He felt tears on her hot cheeks, and still he was tempted to ignore her bloody convictions and just take her, here, now, forever.

His own body shuddering, he froze, his arm clamping her wilting body against his, his other hand cupping the weeping heat that belonged to him. He wanted to scream out his frustration. After a long, long moment, he gave a savage curse and struck his hands viciously against the wall behind her, trapping her between his arms.

She flinched at the suppressed violence shuddering through his body. She was barely able to hold herself upright without his arms supporting her, and she collapsed back against the wall. “I can't, Varek. You know, I can't.”

He felt like strangling her. “No, damn you, I don't know,” he spat out, his glare a blaze of condemnation.

Feeling pinned beneath his pained rage, Christina closed her eyes and bit her lip. Panting, she couldn't understand it herself. More than anything she wanted to be in his arms, to take this moment to its joyous conclusion, but she couldn't. She felt like sinking down into a huddle and crying, so great was her confusion.

Varek stared down at Christina's face with a tumult of so many swirling emotions he couldn't even think straight. He couldn't begin to understand why she said no just when it seemed she had surrendered to him, and to her own need. But then the complexity of this woman was one of the things that held him in such thrall. Her convictions, her morals; she was a person who was above pride, or selfishness or greed. She was his lark and, he above all people, should understand her.

He felt a surge of tears sting his nose, and his jaw flexed with the force it took to fight them back. Breathing deeply, he slowly eased the suffocating misery. Finally, he sighed. Leaning his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes and whispered, “Yes. I know.”

Her arms wrapped around his chest and she leaned against him, her cheek pressed against the tightness in his chest, where his heart was breaking again. “Oh God, why did we have to find each other again? It is so unfair!”

With a dragging sense of defeat, he wrapped her in his arms and he held her close, the feel of her body pressed against his a memory that would have to sustain him again for more years than he wanted to think about. Maybe he should just go, leave Vienna, and never look back. His heart froze at the thought, but perhaps it would be for the best. Slowly, he released her and stepped back. The sight of her standing there in her rumpled gown, her breasts still exposed to his hungry gaze, was torture.

Christina looked into his eyes as he stood before her, passive and remote. Slowly, she drew up her bodice. “I love you, with my entire heart and soul, I love you. But I have a child waiting for me in England that I love every bit as much. Please understand that what I do is for him alone.”

At least there was no mention of the saintly Robert any more, he thought spitefully. In a deadened voice, already knowing it was a lost cause, he said numbly, “We could make it work. We could live in England, where you could see Eddie as much as you needed, and as much as he needed you.”

“What would you do if the situation was reversed? In order to live with me, would you give up Tina?”

His eyes narrowed into a heated glare. The sexual frustration still surging through him made him edgy and vindictive. “Of course, not,” he snapped. “Why would I need to? I would not be ashamed to raise my child with you.”

Anger curled about her heart. “Is that what you think? I would be ashamed for you to raise my son?”

Those sensual lips were now thinned with ire. “You have stated as much, feeling your honor would be so tainted that even your son could never love you.”

“Devil take you, Varek, there is no reasoning with you!” Christina turned on her heel and headed for the door.

“Christina, don't you dare walk out that door! Is that your answer to everything? To run away?” Spinning about, she shouted back at him, “I did not run away! You threw me away!” Panting, she stared at him with the rage she had never allowed herself to show. When he stalked toward her, she held her ground and returned his glare with equal fierceness.

“I did not
throw
you away!” he gritted out, so sick to death of having to defend himself to this woman. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “I was trying to protect your life. Never in all our years together did I realize what a selfish little bitch I loved. You
ran
, Christina! You ripped our lives apart to get even with me for keeping you safe.”

Wrenching out of his grip, she pulled back and slapped him. He froze, and stared down at her in shock. Primitive satisfaction surged through her and, pulling back her hand, she slapped him again, then again. God, it felt so
good!
she thought with a sense of liberating fury.