Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“I am not dawdling. My limbs are frozen.”

He gave her shoulder a rude shove. “To the altar.”

“The altar?” Brianna glanced toward the wooden Iconostas that separated the nave from the sanctuary. She knew little of Russian churches, but she was aware that the icon screen that possessed three doors to the altar was sacred. By ancient tradition, each door was reserved for specific church officials, and women were never allowed past the screen. “Are you attempting to have me struck down by God?”

Viktor frowned as he pressed her relentlessly forward. “You are an Orthodox?”

“No, but I would rather not tempt fate,” she said, dryly. “Especially not when I have a pistol pressed to my back.”

“No doubt a wise notion. If you do as you are told, you may perhaps live to witness history as it unfolds, after all.”

Brianna stumbled through the Deacon’s door, not having to pretend her lack of grace. She had long before lost any feeling in her feet.

“A pretty way of describing a bloody revolution,” she muttered.

“It always takes blood to purify.”

“I notice it’s not your blood that is offered for the sacrifice.”

“Of course not. It will be the tainted Romanov blood that will wash through the streets. Only then can our glorious empire rise and take its place in the world.”

“With you as the emperor?”

“Perhaps.”

“Charming.”

Halting near the lavish altar, Brianna turned to watch as Viktor Kazakov stopped at her side. Was she to be shot and left to die alone? Or would the traitor possess enough compassion to simply leave her in the church while he returned to St. Petersburg?

Brianna was caught off guard when Kazakov reached beneath his greatcoat and pulled out a coiled length of rope.

“Kneel down,” he commanded.

Brianna took an appalled step backward.

Viktor grasped her upper arm to jerk her back toward him. “As I said, if you do as you are told, there is no reason I must kill you. I do intend, however, to ensure that you are not allowed to raise the alarm before I am well on my way to St. Petersburg.”

“You…you intend to bind me with that rope?” she rasped.

“Obviously you are as clever as you are beautiful,” he mocked.

“Please…” She was forced to halt and clear her throat. “What if Edmond does not follow? With this blizzard, it could be days before anyone returns to this church.”

Viktor reached out to brush a taunting hand over her cheek. “You possess a startling lack of faith in your lover, ma belle.”

She jerked from his touch, her icy skin crawling with distaste.

“I have told you that he has pledged his life to the Czar.”

“Now, tha

t would be a pity,” he said, deliberately uncoiling the rope as he took a step toward her. “No doubt, Edmond would be haunted for the rest of his life with the thought of your poor, frozen body lying on the altar, your beautiful eyes forever etched with futile hope as you awaited your savior.”

“Have you ever thought of taking to the stage?”

The dark eyes flashed with anger at her barely concealed contempt.

“Kneel.”