Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Leonida shook off the urge to scuttle away, reminding herself that the man had come to her rescue. The least she could do was be polite.

“In truth, I was wondering if anyone actually purchased such hideous objects.”

The man flashed another smile that did not reach his dark eyes.

“I am no longer shocked by what the Parisians consider fashionable. More often than not it is a competition as to who can be the more outrageous.”

“Yes, well…1 should be on my way.”

With a startling speed, he reached out to grasp her hand. “Will you not join me for a coffee? I can assure you that the café just down the passage serves the tastiest pastries in the city.”

Leonida tugged, attempting to free her fingers from his tight grip.

“Thank you, but no.”

“Come, come, my dear, you cannot abandon me without at least giving me your name.”

“Madame Marseau,” she grudgingly offered the name she was traveling under.

“You are wed?”

“A widow.”

“I see.” He leaned downward, as if appearing to peer through her heavy veil. Leonida felt a chill inch down her spine. “And Russian if my ears do not deceive me,” he murmured.

“I really must…”

“I am Sir Charles Richards, at your service.” He bowed over her hand, ruthlessly ignoring her struggles to be free. “Tell me, Madame, do you reside in Paris?”

“No, I am just passing through.”

“How charming, a fellow visitor.” He wrinkled his nose in a playful gesture. Leonida found herself wondering if he practiced it before a mirror. “Myself, I am from London and still rather unfamiliar with the confusing jumble of streets, but I should be delighted to offer myself as a guide.”

“My stay is far too brief for sightseeing.” This time she jerked hard enough that he was forced to release her hand or attract the notice of the fellow shoppers. “Good day.”

“At least allow me to give you my card.” He smoothly blocked her path, pressing a gilt-edged calling card into her hand. “I am staying at the Montmacier on the Rue de Varenne. If you decide to linger in Paris I hope you will send me a note.”

“There is no chance of me lingering.”

“Still, if you have need of me, for any reason, I want you to know you can depend upon me.”

She frowned. Why the devil was he being so persistent? Did he believe a widow without protection was easily seduced? Perhaps he hoped she was lonely and naive enough to fall into the arms of the first man to show her a bit of attention?

“That is not necessary.”

“Who is to know?” He shrugged. “A young lady in Paris can never be too careful.”

Her lips twisted as she considered the seemingly endless troubles that had plagued her since leaving Russia.

“I suppose that is true,” she said dryly, feeling an unmistakable sense of relief as she caught sight of Sophy weaving a determined path in her direction.

“Remember,” he said, his voice low and ur

gent. “You have only to send word and I will do whatever in my power to assist you.”

She shook her head. “Are you always so eager to offer your services?”

“Only to beautiful ladies,” he smoothly retorted.