Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“Or he has laced your food with hemlock.”

Stefan laughed. “Thank you, Boris.”

“Always pleased to be of service.”

Heading out of Vanya’s townhouse, Stefan discovered his carriage awaiting him and within less than an hour he had navigated the thick traffic and reached the reception rooms of the palace.

He paused just inside the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the glittering crowd. At first glance there was no sight of Leonida.

Was she late? Or had something happened?

His heart squeezed with unease and he was debating the wisdom of going in search when the crowd shifted and he was distracted by the sight of golden curls.

Leonida.

His anxiety eased, but as his hungry gaze skimmed over her white lace gown worn over a silver underskirt and diamonds shimmering about her neck, he realized that he had been unable to see her earlier because she was surrounded by a horde of elegant gentlemen, each of them vying to gain her attention.

Even as he watched one of them leaned forward to whisper in Leonida’s ear, his fingers stroking down her bare arm.

A biting anger exploded through him, his hands clenched at his sides. Damn the preening buffoons. They would soon discover the danger in pestering his woman.

Oblivious to everything but the sight of Leonida, Stefan charged forward, nearly bowling down the gaunt, silver-haired gentleman who deliberately stepped in his path.

“Your Grace,” Herrick Gerhardt said, his voice hard.

For a crazed moment, Stefan continued forward, determined to knock the old soldier out of his way. Another man was touching Leonida. He would rip off his damn arm and shove it down his throat.

Then, catching sight of the dark eyes that held a ruthless warning, he grimly forced himself to halt. Gerhardt was quite capable of having him tossed from the palace with a nod toward one of the numerous guards.

Dammit. He was a duke. He was not accustomed to having others meddling in his affairs.

“Gerhardt,” he growled.

The older man impaled him with a cold glare. “You will find the Emperor in the Throne Room.”

“A rather obvious location,” Stefan dryly retorted. “I will make my bow in a moment.”

“I regret having to disagree, but you will make it now.”

Aware of several gazes trained in their direction, Stefan deliberately adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, disguising the fierce emotions clamoring through him behind a mask of cool composure.

“You seem to forget, Gerhardt, that I am not a loyal Russian servant. I do not take orders from you.”

“I am not speaking for the Emperor, but as a gentleman who truly cares for Leonida and her happiness.”

A possessive fury clenched his heart.

“An even more dangerous proposition,” he said, his voice low, lethal.

“Do not be an idiot, Huntley, she is like a daughter to me,” Herrick snapped.

Stefan was far from reassured. Whatever the older man’s feelings for Leonida, his one purpose was to halt Stefan’s pursuit.

Something Stefan would not tolerate.

“And you believe you can keep me away from her?”

“If it was at all possible, I most certainly would,” Herrick admitted in icy tones. “Unfortunately, all I can do is attempt to prevent you from causing scandal.”