Rebecca Hagan Lee (30 page)

"Oh, I'll be here a while," Blake answered vaguely. "Now drink your tea.

You must be thirsty after such an energetic afternoon."

Cristina did as he instructed, escaping the knowing look in his eyes.

"I tried to wake you earlier, but you refused to leave the warmth of the bed so I decided to let you sleep. I've been sneaking up here every few minutes or so, checking to see if you were still asleep. I didn't want you to go looking for me and stumble into a formal reception or any of the guests in the process."

"It was nice of you to bring me the tea."

He smiled again, a sight that tugged at Cristina's heart. "To tell the truth, the tea was for me. I slipped away from the boring conversation to find better company."

Cristina giggled. "Poor Blake, you gave me your drink and now you'll have to do without."

Blake was enchanted by her husky giggle and realized it was the first time he had ever heard her sound so carefree. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"That's a hardship I can stand. If I can't warm you, I'll enjoy watching my cup of tea do it for me."

"I would rather you did it." Cristina spoke the thought aloud, then blushed when she met his expressive gaze and realized Blake had heard it. "It must be late. I've got to get dressed and get home. Leah will be frantic." She chattered to cover her embarrassment. Blake's intimate looks had a way of unsettling her and made her acutely aware that she was naked beneath the spread.

Cristina swept the room with a glance. Her black velvet dress was not in sight and she wondered where it had fallen.

"Relax," Blake instructed. "Leah knows where you are. She knows you're safe with me."

"Safe?" Cristina giggled again. "This is safe?" She set the cup and saucer aside, then looked up at him. "I'm never safe when I'm with you."

"Pardon me." He sounded sincere, but his eyes danced with amusement, their jet-black depths gleaming. "I assure you it was a slip of the tongue."

"I don't trust your assurances," she told him. "Kindly keep them to yourself. You know they're useless when you look at me like that."

Blake raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "You've done me a grave disservice, Cristina, and yourself as well. I didn't know my glances could arouse you this way. You should have told me sooner."

Cristina opened her mouth to respond, then bit back her retort. He was enjoying his play on words, enjoying the way his teasing affected her.

Blake studied her closely. He knew she felt unsure of herself and knew she enjoyed their intimacy in spite of her uncertainty. She was shy one moment and full of the confidence that accompanied sexual intimacy the next. He understood her feelings because he often shared them. He never knew what to expect and that somehow heightened their sexual awareness of one another.

"I'd love to continue our discussion concerning your current state of arousal," he whispered softly, seductively. "Unfortunately, I've got to return to my other guests. But," he added, when she would have protested, "I'll return later so we can further explore the topic." He winked at Cristina and walked to the door.

"Wait!" she commanded. "What do I do until you get back?"

"Close your eyes and dream of me," he replied conceitedly, just before a blue satin pillow bounced off his stomach.

It seemed like hours before he returned. Cristina had long since given up on him and succumbed to the warmth of the daybed.

"Asleep again?" Blake asked as he entered the room and found it in darkness. He lit the gas lamp, then made his way over to the bed. He studied the even rise and fall of Cristina's breasts as she slept.

"I could use a bit of that myself," he said, aloud, "but first I have to get you out of here." He leaned down and kissed her soft lips. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to go home."

Cristina smiled drowsily and moved to one side to give him room on the bed.

"I don't want to go. Why don't you come to bed?" She reached for him when a knock on the door interrupted them.

"Will there be anything else before I retire, sir?" A voice asked as Blake reached out to accept a black-wrapped parcel.

Cristina recognized the voice. It belonged to the man who had escorted her to Blake's sitting room.

"Yes, please see that my carriage is brought around, Cason. I'm in need of some fresh air after the stuffy reception rooms."

"Right away, sir. Good night, sir."

"Good night, Cason." Blake turned from the door to find Cristina watching him with an expression of alarm on her face. "Cason is my personal assistant and majordomo combined. He's the soul of discretion."

"I'm relieved to hear it," Cristina returned haughtily. "As are all your other ladies, I'm sure."

Blake watched her for a minute before he burst into laughter. "That's my girl. Haughtily clinging to her dignity whenever she's caught with her finger in the pie."

"You certainly enjoyed having your finger in the pie," came her waspish reply.

Blake continued to howl with mirth. "Woke up ill-tempered, eh?"

"Out!" Cristina ordered, her feelings injured by his insensitive laughter.

"I'm leaving. I don't have to stay here and listen to you laugh at me." She pointed toward the door then glanced around, searching for her clothing.

"Where is my dress?"

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing with you."

"I'm not laughing," she informed him.

"You should be. Oh, come on, Cris, can't you see the humor in it? You're always misplacing your clothes and you're always trying to make the best of it by cloaking yourself in haughty disdain." He tried to explain and soothe her ruffled feathers.

"Where is my dress? I don't remember seeing it earlier." Still smarting from his laughter and his apparent insensitivity, Cristina ignored him.

"I asked Cason to have it pressed. He was returning it just now and you stared at him as if he had committed a crime."

Cristina smiled suddenly and a few giggles escaped. "I suppose you're right. My clothes do have a way of disappearing whenever you're around you."

"Making your clothes disappear is my mission in life," Blake replied solemnly.

"Leah says you're a menace to my closet."

"Leah knows what she's talking about," Blake agreed. "Now let's see about getting you home. If we wait much longer the sun will be rising and I'll have a harder time smuggling you out of here."

"You sound as if you've had plenty of experience at smuggling ladies in and out of buildings," Cristina couldn't completely conceal the jealous note in her voice.

"In my younger university days Nigel and I were quite adept at it." Blake smiled in remembrance of those carefree, youthful days before Meredith.

"However, most of our experience consisted of smuggling in, not out. And not one of those women could be called a lady or be compared to you." He placed a light kiss on her nose and pulled her out of bed.

With her vanity soothed and her curiosity satisfied for the moment, Cristina relaxed under Blake's capable hands. He handed her her lacy corset and chemise, helped her put them on, then tied her corset strings, gently nudging her backward until she sat on the makeshift bed.

He knelt at her feet, lifted her silk stockings, placed them over her feet, and slid the sensuous fabric over her shapely calves, ignoring the throbbing in his loin and the pounding of his heart against his rib cage as he fastened the stockings to the frilly garters attached to her corset.

He reminded himself that he was out of his mind to be dressing her and sending her away when all he could think of was tumbling her back into the mattress. But Blake forced his rebellious thoughts aside and turned his attention to her petticoat, then to the velvet gown which he lifted and dropped over her head and into place.

When she was fully clothed, except for her shoes and hat, Blake produced a brush and carefully brushed her hair off her neck, twisting the mass into a knot on the top of her head and pinning her small velvet hat down to secure it. He located her slippers beneath the bed and held them for her while she slipped them onto her feet.

Cristina stared at him in astonishment. He had dressed her completely and correctly and as impersonally as a dressmaker's mannequin in less than half an hour. "I believe you've done this before."

"Once or twice," he admitted. "I've been told I make quite a lady's maid."

"Dressing or undressing?"

"Both." He suddenly grinned a boyish grin that made him seem years younger and almost vulnerable. "But I prefer the latter."

"So do I," Cristina blurted, amazed at herself for admitting it aloud. Her forehead knitted into a frown.

"Don't look so worried, Countess," Blake whispered, "I'll keep your secret.

I won't tell a soul." His teasing was gentle and natural, designed to put her at ease.

She dazzled him with a grateful smile. For tonight, at least, he seemed to understand and respect her feelings. She loved him for that.

Blake had amazed himself with his gentle teasing. He hadn't cared about a woman's feeling outside the bedroom for years. He had even convinced himself that women had no feelings outside the bedroom and some he knew lacked those.

But he cared about Cristina's feelings. They mattered to him. Everything about her mattered. He wanted to take care of her and not just physically, but mentally as well. He wanted to care for her, protect her, and somehow earn her trust.

He had treated her shoddily in the beginning, but he would change. He would earn her regard somehow ... even if it took the rest of his life.

Blake picked up her cloak and placed it on her shoulders. There was a new tenderness in his touch and in his voice. "The carriage is waiting, Cristina."

"I know." She moved with him to the door. Her face was pale, the tears stoically held in check.

Minutes later, Blake smuggled her out of the embassy and into his carriage.

"I don't want to take you back to his house."

"Then don't." She turned to face him and their eyes locked in a moment of silent communication that spoke volumes.

"I must. For now." His black eyes pleaded with her. "I know it's asking a great deal, but I'm asking you to trust me, Cristina."

Cristina opened her mouth to tell him she did trust him, but he held up a hand to forestall her.

"I want you, Countess, and Rudolf wants you. That's a tricky situation even without the political tensions between our two empires. I don't intend to let Rudolf keep you. I think you know that and I think you prefer it that way."

"I do prefer it." Cristina's voice was confident. "That's the one thing I knew all along. I tried to lie to you, but now I want you to know I want you, Blake. I have from the first night. I want to be with you as long as you want me."

Blake stopped her flow of words with a demanding kiss. He plundered the depths of her mouth with his tongue, seeking a commitment. "Then trust me, Countess. Trust me to do this right. For all of us. I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me in the past, but all that is in the past. We're going to married."

"When?"

"As soon as I can arrange it."

"And then what?" Cristina wanted to know.

"Then we'll live one day at a time and let the rest of the world take care of itself. I promise."

Cristina reached up to kiss him.

"You won't have to stay here much longer," Blake told her when he forced himself away from her lips. "Rudolf hasn't tried to seduce you yet, but that doesn't mean he won't. I don't want you in his house or under his protection any longer than necessary. God knows I can't stand the thought of him wanting you the way I do. Arranging everything to spare Rudolf, the Austro-Hungarian Empire and our own empire embarrassment is going to require a great deal of tact and all the diplomatic acumen I can muster."

Cristina stiffened ever so slightly in his arms, aware she had lost his attention for the moment. "You don't honestly see this as a challenge--as if you're really taking me away from Rudolf."

Blake's attention was centered on her once again. "Of course, I do," he said as he took in the compressed line of her lips and the angry tilt of her chin. He laughed softly before kissing her firmly on the mouth. "The best kind of challenge. And taking you away from him has been easy, Countess; it's keeping you that's proving to be so difficult."

"You should have told me you had a gold ring and a special license in your pocket." Cristina smiled mischievously. "You know how I love jewelry, so it looks as if you're stuck with me now."

"I hope so."

"And I always assumed you couldn't wait to be rid of me. As I heard it, you tried to foster me off on Nigel when I didn't want to go," Cristina teased.

"I know better than that now." He smiled at her. "I think I'll keep you around for a while," he teased, "so long as you don't bore me. I detest boring women." Blake didn't notice the hurt look on Cristina's face because he was too busy enjoying his own thoughts. Whatever else she was, Cristina Fairfax was never boring. That knowledge made him happy.

Cristina sat silently beside him. He didn't want her forever, only until boredom set in. "I'll see what I can do to keep from boring you."

Blake looked down at her with a puzzled expression on his face, then watched in something akin to horror as her face crumpled and she fought to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly understanding dawned.

"Good God, Countess! You can't actually think that being assaulted with jewelry or having a beautiful half-naked woman turn up in my bedroom at odd hours of the morning spewing fire is boring? I'm afraid I'll bore you long before you learn the meaning of the word." Blake held out his arms to her and Cristina moved closer.

"But I've gotten so big...." She gestured toward her ever-expanding stomach. "And I get so droopy and cry all the time."

"Is that all that's worrying you?" Blake was half amused by her display of self-pity. It was so unexpected coming from Cristina. "Haven't I just proven I find you irresistible? I've never seen a more beautiful woman. You'll get your figure back after you have the little viscount here and you'll forget all about crying all the time and be back to your normal, unpredictable self."