The Frost of Springtime (13 page)

The seasoned lover, the adulterer, and murderer had vanished away. In
that moment, Aleksender de Lefèvre’s innocence had been preserved. He trembled
within Sofia’s arms, standing before her as no more than a helpless and lost
boy.

Sensing the sudden reluctance that claimed his body, Sofia’s hold
tightened, wordlessly reassuring Aleksender. He was slipping away. Sofia
doubted that she could bear losing him again.

“No … no.
Don’t do this.”
Tentative words from only moments ago were spoken once more: “Stay with me.”

As a veteran of war and the son of Philippe de Lefèvre, he knew there
existed one quality and one alone that measured a soldier’s greatness: the
courage to sacrifice.

“Come. I best return you to Sacred Heart.”

CHAPTER
TEN

The carriage house
was stationed in the farthest corner of the chateau’s magnificent seventeen-acre
property. From the side door, it opened to a breathtaking pasture that
stretched on forever. Sweeping greenery engulfed the dwelling and shrouded it
from wandering eyes. The gardens towered nearby in a lush array of manicured
hedges and decorated trellises. Off in the distance, Chateau de Lefèvre
dominated the horizon with its dark facade and even darker secrets.

Several rows of parallel horse stalls lined the small structure. From
wall to wall, an intricate blend of hay, rocks, dirt and twigs blanketed the
flooring. Long streams of moonlight slanted through splintered panels and
illuminated the dust particles that drifted midair.

Wary of his sweeping height, Aleksender ducked as he entered. Sofia
trailed behind him at a steady pace. With each step, she fought to keep her
chin high and face proud. Enough tears had been shed.
Far
more than enough.

Aleksender gazed at her through lowered eyelashes.

Dieu.
Sofia’s nightdress
was sopping wet. It conformed to the delicious curves of her body—the body of a
prima ballerina—wrapping her with the intimacy of a lover’s touch. The rise of
her breasts gently rose and sank, manipulated by her strained breathing. The
nightdress’s material was borderline sheer, its neckline weighed down from the
rain. It puckered forward in seductive invitation, exposing the tempting swell
of her cleavage. In restless pursuit, a solitary raindrop rolled down the
crevice and vanished into the valley of the Promised Land.

And Aleksender knew he was not fit for the Promised Land.

He dropped his gaze and muttered a slew of vulgar curses. “You should
not be here.” The timbre of his voice was low and brutally sharp. An exotic
blend of desire and agony laced each syllable.

A tense silence stretched between Aleksender and Sofia. Only the drumming
rain could be heard as it caressed the structure’s rooftop in a provocative and
relaxing melody. Aleksender swiftly moved past her. His eyes were purposefully
fixed ahead, steps quick and determined. He needed to ignore his ward. He
needed another female.

And so Aleksender made eyes at Juliet—his lovely and ever loyal white
mare. Sensing the arrival of her master, she popped her head over the stall’s
inner door and
nickered
a friendly hello. Almond eyes
beaming, Juliet pawed at the ground and bobbed her face from side to side.
Sofia’s lips broke into a subtle smile. Seduced by a melody of giggles,
Aleksender peered at her—enchanted by the dimple that had embedded her cheek.

Looking away and fondling Juliet’s velvet muzzle, he crooned, “Easy,
ol’ girl, easy.”

Sofia came forward—wildly jealous of a horse—looking every bit like a
charming young lady. Aleksender stiffened as the warmth of her body impaled his
back. Her nearness called to him, engulfed him whole,
caressed
him with an intimate, inviting touch.

“Remember me, Juliet girl?” Juliet’s head bobbed once more. Yes, she
seemed to answer. “And do you remember tossing me from your back?” Juliet
remained perfectly quiet, perfectly content. She dared not answer, Sofia very
well assumed.

Sofia draped a hand over the stern rise of Aleksender’s shoulder. He
hardened beneath her touch as she gave a tender squeeze.

“Alek …” More silence. “Why are you betraying your heart?”

Aleksender shook his face and exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was
holding. “It’s wrong, Sofia. I should have never acted.”

Aleksender swung past the wooden gate and crossed Juliet’s stall. The
ancient closet rattled and moaned as he tugged it open. An assortment of combs,
feed and woven bridles lined the interior in meticulous fashion. Careful not to
disturb their order, Aleksender jumbled through the various items and settled
on a brush. With a soft exhale, he averted his focus back to Juliet.

Gently, softly, he combed out the creature’s flowing mane. She whinnied
lightly and nuzzled his chest, basking beneath her master’s tender affections.
Aleksender caressed her with a haunting deftness, stroking her smooth sides,
whispering sweet nothings into her perked ear, peppering tiny kisses upon her
muzzle …

“You mustn’t seek me out again.” Aleksender’s voice broke the quiet.
His words were soft and airy, barely audible. “I forbid it. The streets are no
longer safe. And you shall not put yourself in danger for my sake.”

He tensed, absorbed in a strain of deep thought. Juliet tossed
Aleksender’s hand into the air and gave an impatient whinny. Snapped back to
reality, he resumed the ministrations. “Impossible girl,” he murmured against
her smooth muzzle.

Sofia gazed through the panel’s slim openings. Clouds shifted in the
night sky and unveiled the glory of the moon. She summoned her bravery, folded
both arms over the weight of her chest, and took a tentative step toward
Aleksender.

“It wasn’t wrong.” Her muted footsteps approached. Aleksender’s hand
froze midair. “Following your heart can’t be wrong. Not really. I know that—”

“You know nothing.” Any sliver of peace fled as quickly as it had come.
Aleksender slammed the brush down onto the floor; cushioned by the lush hay
carpeting, it landed with a muffled bang. In a harsh and unexpected movement,
he spun around full circle and latched onto Sofia’s shoulder blades. Nearly
crumbling at the seams, she winced as her body was bunched between his fingertips.

“Alek, please!”

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? What? I have
nothing.
Nothing to offer you!”

His mouth was mere inches
from her own
. The
molten sting of his breath bit her cheek as she twisted her neck up and back.
“But know this—I will destroy you. I’m no good for you, for myself—for anyone.
Damn it, Sofia. I was only at Bête Noire that night because I was looking to
bed a damn whore.”

“Yes. And that was nearly ten years ago. You are not the same man!
You—”

Aleksender shook her body without thinking. Her bones reverberated,
rattling and rolling beneath his chilly fingertips. She was limp as a ragdoll,
paralyzed in a sudden burst of terror. A lifetime of torment seemed to fuel his
anger.

“Damn you, Sofia.
Foolish girl.
Don’t you see?
I am precisely the same man.”

Sofia cried out as Aleksender shoved her backward. He stalked over to
her, moving like a predator, his pace slow and achingly steady. Sofia inched
away from her guardian, overcome with disbelief and mounting despair. In spite
of herself, she was trembling. Each breath rose in a choked pant. His awakened
madness was a palpable, terrifying force. Never had he spoken to her in such a
way.

She was not daft. He’d killed numberless men during his time at war.
And ever since she could remember, he’d always possessed an inhuman strength.
Though, he’d always used it to protect and shield her.
Certainly
not to scare her from her mortal skin.

“Please, Alek. Please, whatever you are trying to prove, stop it.”

“Just forget me. Forget me, ignorant child!”

“Child?
I’ll have you
know, I’m far from a—”

One step later and Sofia slammed up against the structure’s wooden
panels.

Aleksender towered above her, all heartache and torn emotion,
smoldering eyes staring down. Sofia shrieked as he ensnared both of her wrists
and enveloped them completely. In a harsh movement, he lifted her slender arms
sky-high and pinned her flush against the wall with his strong body. Wiggling
within his grasp, Sofia cried out and struggled in vain. There was no escaping.
She was imprisoned, trapped within a cage built from sinewy muscle and brawn.
Dusty cobwebs tangled around her ankles, their eight-legged widows infesting
the silk. The panels creaked and moaned beneath the fragile pull of her body
weight. Jagged splinters gnawed at her skin, chewing through her flesh like
teeth. There would be blood. She was certain of it.

“A woman, are you? What? What do you wish to hear? Speak!”

His eyes burned. She had to look away.

“No! Don’t you dare turn from
me!
”

Aleksender’s free hand wrapped her chin in a rough motion. He twisted her
face back, forcing Sofia to meet the potency of his glare. Brilliant specks of
gold flickered and flashed, contrasting against those jade irises. He was
branding her with his own inner torment. She was sure there’d be bruises in the
morning. They would be branded upon her heart, if not flesh.

“Yes, ma chérie. I am the Comte de Paris and you … you are unworthy of
me! Satisfied?”

“Let me go.” Her voice was no more than a hushed and shaky whisper,
nearly inaudible.

“No,” Aleksender roared, “you let me go.”

God help him—she would know him as a man. Sofia would know what she
claimed to love. His grasp tightened as she squirmed, fighting to break free.

“Please. You … you are frightening me!”

“Since my nobility forbids you as my comtesse … care to settle as my
mistress?”

“Do you wish me to fear you?
To hate you?”

Her words passed through him. Aleksender heard nothing save for his
racing heart. He was lost within a desperate haze of pained passion.

“Pray tell, should I take you as my own—here and now in this very
stable? Mount you like a primitive beast? No?”

She struggled against his grasp, shamed and humiliated, cheeks
reddening to a scarlet. Aleksender chuckled. It was a low, haunting sound that
massaged her entire form. A viscous stream of chills shot through her small
body. It surged down to the tip of her ballerina toes and back up again.

His hold constricted on her wrists, cutting off her blood flow.

“Come, come. No time for maiden blushes. You cannot fool me. I know
you, Sofia, far better than you know yourself. Your body aches for my touches.
Even now, you quiver for me. Indeed you fear me just as the common devout fears
and
submits
to his God.”

Amused, he snickered as she flinched at his blasphemy.

“But,” he contemplated darkly, “one question remains. Before I make you
mine forever, do tell …” Hissed into the tender hollow of her ear, he purred
the ugly words, “Should I take you like a harlot?”

“Stop …
stop
this.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t be my first whore, you know.” Aleksender pressed the
length of his rock-hard body against her, mercilessly grinding, forcing Sofia
to endure his prominent desire.

Eyelashes lowered, he murmured a dry afterthought,
“Nor would you be my last.”
His following
words impaled her heart. “In fact, had I not saved you that night, I daresay I
could be taking you right
now.
”

“You are breaking my heart, Aleksender de Lefèvre.” He ignored her
detached whisper. “You told me I was not alone. You told me you felt—”

“Lust.
Desire.
Filled with need.”

“You are lying to me. You are lying to yourself.”

“I have done things, terrible things …” His words were a sensual
caress. “Things that would make your skin crawl. And I don’t mean on the
battlefield.” His madness was escalating. The sheer force of his vocals
radiated from his chest and abdomen, rubbing Sofia’s entire body. “Damn you!
You look at me! Look—look at what I am!”

“First say you do not love me.”

“I do not love you! Insolent child! You hear me, Sofia—I do not love
you! No! You are my poison.” Her eyes flew open. “I do not love you!”

His tone dropped several octaves—reaching a rich and demonic bass.
Sofia scarcely recognized his voice. Her spine stiffened to impossible limits.
Her flesh constricted, strangling the ivory of her bones. From head to toe, her
body convulsed in a chain of violent shivers.
“Never.”

Aleksender released her wrists and stepped backward. Sofia winced and
spun in place, rotating toward the splintered wall. The moon glowed through the
wooden cracks and slight imperfections, bathing Paris beneath a peaceful light.
But Sofia only saw darkness.
An inescapable and immovable
darkness.