Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

Closing her eyes, Brianna struggled against the disappointment that threatened to drown her.

Nothi

ng had truly changed, despite the fact that he had raced to the church to rescue her, and that he had put aside his duty to his country and his own fierce loyalty to Alexander Pavlovich to do so.

Or even though he had sat at her bedside throughout the night, his hand gently stroking through her curls as he whispered words of comfort in her ear.

She had been a fool to awaken with the warm sense of being utterly treasured. And even more a fool to force her aching body from the bed just so she could be closer to him. She would not make it all worse by allowing herself to be wounded by the realization that she was still no more than the woman currently sharing his bed.

The brave thought had barely passed through her mind when a fist impatiently banged against the wooden panel of the door.

“Brianna, unlock the door.”

If she ignored him long enough, he would eventually disappear.

There was nothing more certain.

Nearly two hours later, she was proven right. Edmond did disappear. Or at least he halted the incessant pounding on her door and his demands that she allow him in.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Brianna pulled the covers over her head and concentrated upon the dull ache of her wounded shoulder.

Her morose mood was at last interrupted by a soft tap on the door followed by Vanya’s voice.

“Brianna? Brianna, I come bearing gifts,” she said. “May I enter?”

Brianna poked her head from the covers. “Are you alone?”

“Except for my maid.”

“Just a moment.”

On the point of attempting to struggle from the bed, Brianna was halted by Vanya’s firm command.

“No, do not leave the bed, I have a key.” There was the scrape of metal upon metal and then the door was being thrust open to allow Vanya to sail in, followed closely by a young maid with rosy cheeks and curious blue eyes. “Here you are, my dear.” With an imperious motion, Vanya waved the maid forward, watching the girl as she settled the large tray across Brianna’s knees before giving a hasty dip and scurrying from the room.

Brianna breathed deeply of the delicious aromas that filled the air. The faint queasiness that had returned over the past hour was not enough to put off her sudden appetite.

“Is that gingerbread?” She plucked off the linen napkin to reveal a bowl of broth and sliced bread, as well as a plate of freshly baked gingerbread.

“Still warm from the oven, although I was forced to promise Cook that I would ensure that you did not have a bite until you had finished off her famous chicken broth that she swears will heal any illness.”

Obediently, Brianna reached for her spoon to sample the rich broth that slid down her throat and spread a welcome heat through her still-chilled body.

“It is very good,” she murmured, polishing off the soup and a slice of the bread before reaching for the plate of gingerbread and leaning back in the mounds of pillows. As she savored her treat, she was aware of Vanya’s concerned gaze.

“How are you feeling?”

“Weak.”

“Are you in pain?”

“My shoulder aches, although I am unfortunately becoming rather accustomed to bullet wounds.”

Vanya smiled, perching on the edge of the mattress. “It is not a habit that I would recommend.”

“Neither would I.” Brianna lowered her gaze to the plate of gingerbread, deliberately hiding her expression from her companion. “Thankfully, I have every confidence that, once I return to London, my future will be a great deal more peaceful.”

“London? You intend to leave St. Petersburg?”