Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“You have no right.”

“No?” he challenged in scathing tones. “As Duke, and by tradition the current magistrate, I have every right to hold a disreputable thief as my captive and return you to Surrey.”

A mortified heat flooded beneath her cheeks. Lord, how had she ever allowed her mother to convince her to become involved in her crazy scheme?

Nadia Karkoff might be an expert at manipulation and political maneuvering, but Leonida possessed a deep aversion to deceit.

Which perhaps explained why she was such a dismal failure at it.

“How dare you?” she blustered, her words sounding weak even to her own ears. “I am no thief.”

“A thief.” His hand cupped her chin. “And a liar as well.”

Leonida’s embarrassment shifted to anger. Whatever her sins, she had only done what was necessary to protect her mother and the Emperor.

Stefan would do exactly the same in her position.

“I swear if you do not release me, I will.

“What?” he taunted.

Her nerves simply snapped. She was weary, terrified and not at all pleased to be treated as some sort of hunted animal.

Before she could even consider the consequences, she lowered her chin and sank her teeth into the soft skin between his thumb and finger.

Stefan gave a startled grunt, then with a humiliating ease, he had her off her feet and was striding across the room to toss her onto the bed. Before she could catch her breath, he had landed on top of her, his heavy body pressing her into the mattress.

“Hellcat,” he muttered, his eyes dark with an emotion that made her shiver in alarm.

“Damn you.” She pressed her hands against his chest, acutely aware of the delicious heat already curling through her stomach. “Why will you not leave me in peace?”

“You know why,” he muttered, his tone distracted as his brooding gaze studied her flushed features. “Besides, you have something that belongs to me.”

Only brute force kept her from glancing toward the luggage she had tucked in a corner.

“And what is that?” she demanded.

A slow, worrisome smile curved his lips. “I have yet to discover, but I assure you I will enjoy the search.”

“You accuse the daughter of the Countess Karkoff without knowing what I supposedly stole, not to mention without proof?”

“Yes.”

Her hands slipped against the soft fabric of his dove-gray coat, landing on his shoulders. She shuddered at the feel of hard muscles beneath her palms.

Stefan was no soft, overly pampered aristocrat. He was a man who worked hard to maintain his estate and possessed the ruthless strength to prove it.

“You are outrageous,” she breathed.

“I am only beginning,” he said huskily, his head lowering to stroke his lips over her heated cheek. “You have no notion just how outrageous I intend to be.”

“Stefan, no.”

“Why did you come to Meadowland?”

“I did not. I traveled to England to visit Lord and Lady Summerville.” She gasped as his fingers tugged at the ribbon holding the high neckline in place. “Stop that.”

“A ribbon for every lie, my dove,” he warned. “Why did you come to Meadowland?”