Rosemary Rogers - Bound By Love

Oh, Nadia loved Leonida, but she had no interest in raising a child. Not when she could be devoting her attention to ensuring her place as a leader among society or dabbling in the dangerous games of politics as she sought to protect Alexander Pavlovich’s throne by whatever means necessary.

As a result, Leonida had been raised by her English nurse and a series of governesses who rarely remained more than a few months.

Was it any wonder that she had never truly felt important to anyone?

“Yes, well, we all have a great deal on our minds,” she muttered, pulling Sophy into her parlor and closing the door.

Then, as if she could truly avoid the impending encounter, she continued on to her bedchamber, crossing the floor to stare out the window.

“Do you want me to inform the Duke you’re not receiving?” Sophy asked softly.

Leonida wrapped her arms around her waist. “You are welcome to make the attempt.”

She kept her gaze trained on the distant lake that reflected the fading sunset in muted hues of pink and violet. The beauty spread before her, however, went unnoted as the sound of Sophy’s raised voice echoed through the air, followed by Stefan’s low, composed response.

A grim smile touched her lips as Sophy continued to squabble. The maid was a ferocious protector of Leonida, but she was no match for the Duke of Huntley. He might hide his ruthlessness behind a quiet charm, but it made him no less perilous.

Indeed, he was by far the most dangerous gentleman she had ever encountered.

At last, Sophy fell silent, her anger turned aside by Stefan’s calm, unyielding determination. There was the sound of shuffling feet, then a door closing. Leonida remained poised at the window, a tingle of excitement inching down her spine as Stefan’s spicy male scent filled the room.

“I thought we had put an end to your little games, my dove,” he drawled, his footsteps coming ever closer.

“Games?”

His slender fingers closed around her upper arms, forcing her around to meet his smoldering gaze. “You cannot avoid me.”

“Obviously not,” she snapped, refusing to acknowledge the thrill of pleasure that darted through her body. “What have you done with Sophy?”

His gaze seared over her stubborn expression. “I requested that she join the other servants so she could enjoy her dinner. It hardly seems fair that she should suffer because her mistress is a coward.”

“I am not a coward, I am simply tired. And since you are so concerned for my maid’s welfare I assure you that I requested that two trays be sent up, so there was no fear she would be sent to bed hungry.”

His lips curled into a humorless smile. “Ah yes, the trays.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not now. I informed Cook that she need not bother since you would be joining Lady Summerville and myself in the dining room.”

“Are you so high-handed with all your guests?”

His fingers skimmed over her lips, which had thinned in annoyance. “Only those who insist on being unreasonable.”

She struggled to breathe. His dark, compelling beauty was overwhelming. Irresistible.

“It is hardly unreasonable to desire a quiet evening.”

“It is when I want your companionship,” he countered, his fingers stroking the line of her jaw.

“And because you are a duke you always get what you want?”

His smile widened with genuine humor. “I always get what I want because I refuse to accept anything less.”

She licked her dry lips, then swiftly wished she hadn’t when his eyes flared with a raw desire that made her heart leap.

“You cannot force me to come down to dinner.”

“Actually I could,” he mocked. “But if you insist on eating in your bedchamber then I will simply join you.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses? You cannot join me.”

“Why not?”

“It would cause a scandal.”

“A scandal for you, perhaps, but as you so recently pointed out, I am a duke and there is precious little that can tarnish my very old and very respected title.” He paused as she shivered, glancing down at her amber silk gown over a silver gauze underskirt. With a frown he moved to collect a matching shawl that she had left at the edge of the bed and carefully wrapped it around her shoulders. “I had forgotten your love for warmth. I shall have a maid light a fire for you while we are at dinner.”

She clenched her teeth, refusing to be touched by his seeming concern.

“Do not pretend that you care for my comfort.”

“But I do, my dove.” His hands lightly circled her neck, his thumb stroking the pulse that pounded at the base of her throat. “I am quite determined to do everything in my power to please you.”

“Except leave me in peace,” she said huskily.

“Is that what you truly want?” He snared her gaze, his expression brooding. “Peace?”

“Yes,” she whispered, even as she knew that was not entirely the truth.

He sensed it as well, his eyes narrowing. “Liar.”

“What do you know of me?”

“Not nearly so much as I intend to know. But I can recognize loneliness when it haunts a pair of exquisite blue eyes.”

With a burst of alarm Leonida pushed Stefan away, turning from his perceptive gaze. “Do not.”

His hands settled on her shoulders, but he made no effort to turn her around. “Am I wrong?”

“I…miss home.”

“Do you truly have a home, Leonida Karkoff?” he whispered.

Her long-buried pain wrenched through her heart, making her feel annoyingly vulnerable.

Stefan had already seduced her body; he could not be allowed to steal her heart.

“What a ridiculous question. I happen to live in one of the finest houses in all of St. Petersburg.”

He bent his head to whisper directly in her ear. “A house is not necessarily a home, as I have discovered.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as a delicious heat flowed through her body. When Stefan was near she had no fear of being cold.

“You are not happy at Meadowland?”

“I am content…for the most part.”

“Contentment and happiness are not the same.”

“No, they are not,” he said, the hint of wistful yearning tugging at her heart.

Abruptly she turned to face him, her expression wary. Dear lord. What was the matter with her? The Duke of Huntley was the last man who needed or deserved her sympathy.

He was handsome and wealthy and utterly ruthless in getting whatever he desired.

If he was alone, it was by choice, not fate.

“I suppose you will not leave until I agree to join you for dinner?”

Something that might have been disappointment flashed through the blue eyes before his features hardened.

“You are as intelligent as you are beautiful,” he taunted.

“And you, sir, are an arrogant bully.”

He grasped her chin between his fingers, his gaze focused on her lips.

“You have a quarter of an hour, Leonida. If you do not make an appearance then I will assume you are inviting me to share your dinner in bed.”

STEPPING OUT OF LEONIDA’S chambers, Stefan placed his hands flat against the wall and sucked in a deep breath. He was a fool.

Whether it was because he had allowed his anger at Leonida’s attempt to hide from him to impetuously lead him to her bedchamber, or because he hadn’t taken advantage of being there, he had yet to decide.

In either case, he was once again hard and aching with no hope of ready relief.

With a muttered curse, he pushed away from the wall and forced himself to continue toward the servants’ staircase, where he knew Goodson would be waiting for him.

On cue, the uniformed butler stepped from the shadows, regarding Stefan with a stoic expression.

“Your Grace.”