Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“Thank you, Vanya, but perhaps I should be allowed to speak for myself,” a deep male voice echoed through the room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

IT WAS PRECISELY AS SHE HAD feared, Brianna realized as Edmond strolled into the room and her heart gave a familiar leap of excitement. Her deadened sense of unreality was crumbling to allow her raw, aching emotions to be exposed.

This was why she had to flee St. Petersburg.

Good lord, he had only to walk into the room for her pulse to pound and her body to tremble in anticipation of his ravishment. And when he smiled in her direction…her entire world seemed a brighter place.

The only way to salvage any peace for her future was to find the means to return to England and the life that she had planned for so long. That was surely preferable to allowing Edmond to become an even more vital part of her existence.

Perhaps sensing her sudden flare of distress, Vanya gently patted her hand before rising to her feet and flashing Edmond a stern frown.

“I shall allow you to speak for yoursel

f only if you promise not to make a complete hash of it.”

Edmond grimaced, thrusting a hand through his tousled hair. In truth, he appeared remarkably disheveled, with his cravat hanging loose to reveal the smooth column of his neck and his jaw shadowed with unshaven whiskers. If it were not so ridiculous, she would have thought he had slept in his current attire.

“I am not about to bind myself to such a promise. Not when history has taught me that my renowned skills in negotiation do not seem to impress Miss Quinn,” he said wryly. “I do, however, believe I would prefer to knot my own noose as to have you do it for me.”

“As you wish.”

Moving forward, Vanya paused just long enough to pat Edmond on the cheek before sweeping from the room and closing the door behind her.

Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Brianna scurried back to the bed and tugged the covers over her shivering body. It was not the chill in the air, or even the lingering weakness that sent her diving beneath the blankets, but instead, an odd sense of vulnerability as Edmond regarded her with a gaze that was unnerving in its intensity.

Although Edmond did nothing to prevent her dive to safety, he prowled forward to peer down at her with a twisted smile.

“You really do look like the little mouse I have always called you, with your wide eyes and nose twitching just above the edge of the covers. Do you fear that I am about to pounce upon you?”

“I have learned not to try and predict what you might do.”

“No doubt wise.” Without warning he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his slender fingers running a path of pure fire down her cheek. “So pale. Mon dieu. If you wish to punish me by not eating, you have succeeded, Brianna,” he said huskily. “I have scoured all of St. Petersburg in an effort to discover some treat to tempt you, and yet each offering has been returned to the kitchen with barely a nibble.”

Brianna managed to hide the flood of warmth at the realization that he had been responsible for those exotic delicacies that had been delivered on her tray.

“It was not my intent to punish you. Is there something you need, Edmond?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before his voice floated softly on the air.

“You.”

Her breath caught at the simple word. “I…” She was forced to halt and clear her throat. “I beg your pardon?”

Brianna expected him to laugh and brush aside his stark confession as a ridiculous jest. Instead, his fingers lightly traced her trembling lips as he regarded her with a somber expression.

“I need you, Brianna. I know that is not a particularly elegant or romantic declaration, but there it is.” He caught and held her wide, disbelieving gaze. “I need you.”

Lost in the dark beauty of his eyes, Brianna was finding it all but impossible to force her mind to function in a reasonable manner.

“For what?”

His smile was edged with self-derision. “For everything, it would seem. You are not the only one who has been unable to eat or sleep, ma souris, and while I have not yet taken to my bed, I have been unable to be gone from the outer chamber for more than a few moments unless I have set myself a task I hope will please you.” His head turned to glance toward the hothouse flowers and small boxes of marzipan that had been arranged on her mantle when she had awakened that morning. “If I were observing some other gentleman mooning over a woman in such a pathetic fashion, I would be vastly amused.”

She slowly shook her head, the pain of his rejection still brutally fresh in her mind.

“But you…”