Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Sophy appeared at her side and without giving the maid the opportunity to catch her breath, Leonida was steering her away from the unwelcome gentleman.

Suddenly her cramped chamber at the hotel did not seem nearly so odious.

“Good day, sir.”

CHARLES HELD HIMSELF brutally still as his prey walked away. He did not twitch or blink. Instead, he concentrated on drawing in one breath after another, counting his heartbeats, and willing the red haze that fogged his mind to fade.

She had been there. In his grasp. His hands had itched with the need to grasp her slender throat and demand the letters he knew she had hidden, but there had been too many witnesses, too many King’s Guards. All he could do was try and lure her to a more private setting, and even that had been thwarted by the bitch.

Damn her.

For two days he had waited in the shadows for his opportunity to strike. Since receiving his servant’s message that the Karkoff wench had managed to slip away and was not to be discovered on any of the roads leading north, he had kept watch on the routes leading from Calais to Paris.

Luck, for once, had been with him. About damned time. And he had recognized Leonida’s maid when they had halted at an inn not far from the city. He had directed his newly hired henchmen to ensure the carriage was made unusable while he had returned to Paris to make certain that the wheelwright that was sent for by the groom understood that there was a nice reward to be had if he could prolong the repairs as long as possible.

It should have been a simple matter after that to retrieve the letters, but the worthless woman had refused to leave her rooms at the hotel. Just as annoying, the maid he had managed to bribe claimed that there were no letters to be discovered among Madame Marseau’s belongings.

Unconsciously, Charles slid his hand into the pocket of his breeches, smoothing his hand along the small dagger. His hunger was becoming unbearable.

He was still standing there when the red-haired urchin who had nabbed Leonida’s purse returned, his ugly face split with a wide smile.

“Did I do it right?” he demanded.

“Perfectly.” He flipped a coin that the lad deftly caught. “And here is your reward.”

“Is there anything else, monsieur?”

On the point of sending the boy away, Charles hesitated.

He had been forced to allow Miss Karkoff to temporarily slip from his grasp, but that did not mean he could not sate his burning need.

There were always women in need of his special attention.

“Actually, there is.” The cold that encased his soul began to thaw in anticipation. Blood. Sweet blood. “I want you to take me to your mother.”

CHAPTER TEN

LATE THE NEXT MORNING, Leonida stood in the back parlor of the hotel, pacing the threadbare carpet with impatient steps. The swish of her black crepe gown was the only sound to break the silence, her fingers anxiously toying with one of the dozen black ribbons that held the gown together from the high neckline to the heavily flounced hem.

Waiting until a subdued Pyotr left the room and shut the door behind him, Leonida turned to regard Sophy with a blazing frustration.

“Mon Dieu. I am convinced we have managed to discover the most incompetent wheelwright in all of France.”

“A blustering idiot, if you ask me,” Sophy muttered. “I should be very surprised if he even knows how to fix the wheel.”

“I am beginning to wonder myself. I will give him until tomorrow morning and then I will insist on another to repair the carriage.” Leonida rubbed her aching temples. She had not slept well since leaving Meadowland and the ceaseless worry was beginning to take its toll. “Damn.”

Moving to her side, Sophy rubbed a comforting hand down her back. “Ah well, no use pining over what can’t be changed. We will be home again soon enough. And there can be no one to know we are in Paris.”

“No,” Leonida forced herself to agree, although she was not nearly so confident as she wished to be.

How could she be when she felt as if she was being constantly watched when she left her room? And she was absolutely convinced that her belongings had been disturbed more than once.

Of course, it could be the unseen watcher was no more than a figment of her troubled imagination. And maids were bound to have moved a few items during their daily cleaning. Still, her desire to leave Paris became more urgent with each passing moment.

“No one could know.”

Sophy regarded her with a sympathetic smile. “You should go and have a hot bath. That will make you feel better.”