Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Several hours passed before the sound of approaching footsteps had Leonida setting aside her book, her heart leaping with what she told herself was annoyance, although it felt remarkably like anticipation.

She was smoothing her hands down her skirt when Pyotr entered the room. Since her return to St. Petersburg he had hovered about her as if he were a mother hen.

“Huntley is back. Shall I send him on his way?”

Leonida rose to her feet. “No, Pyotr, please have Sergi show him in.”

“You are certain?”

She forced a smile. She had never been less certain of anything. Just being in Stefan’s company was enough to toss her into a maelstrom of confusion. Her mind warned her to treat the man with a cold indifference. Surely her apathy would eventually convince him to halt his foolish pursuit? But only a few moments in his company and she was a seething mass of emotion. Like a schoolgirl in her first throes of calf-love.

“Of course.” She managed to get the words past her stiff lips.

“Then I will fetch Sophy.”

“That will not be necessary.”

“You can’t be with the man without a companion,” Pyotr growled.

“We will not be staying. The Duke has requested that I join him for a drive.”

The groom’s expression hardened with suspicion. “And you agreed?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“That is between Lord Huntley and myself.”

Pyotr was clearly displeased with her sudden decision to meet with the man she had deliberately avoided for days.

“Then I will join you.”

Her expression softened, her heart warming at his unwavering concern.

“Thank you, Pyotr, but there is no need.”

“Have you forgotten there is a madman still loose who has every reason to want you dead?”

Leonida shivered. She had been haunted by nightmares since returning to St. Petersburg. At least she had until last night.

For some reason her dreams had once again been filled with a raven-haired, blue-eyed gentleman who set her blood on fire.

“I am not likely to forget.”

“Then you need to be protected.”

“A task that is now in my hands,” a dark voice murmured from behind Pyotr.

“Stefan,” Leonida breathed, her heart slamming against her chest as the tall, lean gentleman brushed past the groom and crossed the room to raise her fingers to his lips.

“Lovely as always, my dove.”

For a moment Leonida’s mind refused to function. Good lord, he was so beautiful. The elegantly chiseled features. The thick raven curls. The blue eyes that could shimmer with humor or darken with tenderness.

Her hands itched to reach up and sink her fingers in his hair and tug his head down so she could kiss those sensuous lips. She ached with a frustrated desire that became worse with every passing day.

With an effort, she gathered her thoughts and, turning toward the doorway, she nodded to the silver-haired butler who hovered behind Pyotr.