Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“It is far from over,” he warned, planting a hand on either side of her head to glare down at her stubborn expression. “I am not a fool. I feel you tremble when I touch you. I taste your pleasure when our lips meet. You still desire me.”

Her eyes darkened with an awareness she could not hide. “No. I cannot.”

“Cannot?” His voice thickened, his gaze mesmerized as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. “You already have.”

“A mistake I do not intend to repeat.”

“Dammit, this is not a mistake.” He leaned down, brushing her lips with a lingering kiss. “This is a miracle. Why do you deny your need?”

“Because I will not be your mistress,” she said, her voice low, as if the words were wrenched from her. “Not ever.”

He flinched. “Leonida…”

“No.” She turned her head, refusing to meet his frustrated glare. “I came here to speak with you. Nothing else.”

Stefan abruptly stepped back. Damn the woman. Why did she have to complicate what should be a simple affair?

She had come to his bed willingly enough. Hell, she had been nothing less than eager.

Now she behaved as if his only purpose was to ruin her life.

“And why, after three days of ignoring me, would you have a sudden urge to speak?” he snarled.

“Because I need to know what you intend to say to Alexander Pavlovich.”

“What…”

He bit off his words, his hands clenching as he realized the implication of her words. It was not mere chance that she was at the palace. Or because of some furtive desire to cross his path.

She was here because she feared that he might reveal the ugly truth of her trip to England to her father.

Why the devil had he not considered such a possibility?

His sharp, humorless laugh echoed through the room. “Of course. I have always considered myself to be quite an intelligent gentleman, but when it comes to you, my dove, I seem to be no more than a half-wit.”

She frowned warily, as if trying to judge his reaction to her accusation.

“You have not answered my question.”

Stefan turned to pace toward a lacquered table that held a priceless collection of Chinese vases, his mind churning. Whatever his annoyance at the realization Leonida was eager to believe the worse of him, he was not above using her assumption to his advantage.

“How did you know I was invited to dine with the Emperor tonight?” he demanded.

Leonida paused, clearly reluctant to reveal her source of information.

“Our cook has three daughters,” she at last admitted. “The youngest is a chambermaid to Vanya Petrova.”

“And she thought it necessary to share my plans?”

“There are few secrets in St. Petersburg.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

She made a sound of impatience. “Why are you here, Stefan?”

Slowly he turned, meeting her fretful gaze. “Not even I can ignore a summons from Alexander Pavlovich.”

“And when he demands to know why you have traveled to Russia?”