Secret Fire (13 page)

“
I
want to see Mr. Kirov.” Katherine looked from one guard to the other. The blank, uncomprehending faces were identical.

Each day a different pair of guards sat outside her unlocked door. Today it was two Cossacks, who obviously didn’t understand French. She repeated her request in German, then Dutch, English, and lastly, in desperation, Spanish. Nothing. They just stared at her, not budging from their stools.

“Typical.” She was frustrated enough to speak aloud. “They all want you to give in, Katherine, but do they make it easy for you?”

She ought to just forget it. So what if she had agonized all night reaching this decision? This was only the fourth day of her confinement. She could hold out much longer, even if Marusia didn’t sneak her food. But then there was the excuse she was holding onto. She was giving in not for herself but for the sake of others.

Liar. You want out of that cabin. It’s that simple
.

She gave it one more try before her pride reasserted itself. “Kir-ov.” She used her hands to describe him. “You know? Big fellow. Alexandrov’s man.”

Both men came to life on hearing the Prince’s name. Smiles split their faces. One stood up so quickly that he knocked his stool over and nearly fell over with it. He immediately set off down the corridor toward Dimitri’s cabin.

Katherine panicked. “No! I don’t want to speak to
him
, you idiot!”

Whether she could have stopped him or not didn’t matter. Before he reached Dimitri’s door, it opened and the Prince stepped out.

Over the head of the Cossack, Dimitri’s eyes locked with hers while he listened to the man’s spate of words, not Russian, but some other language Katherine had never heard. The urge was great for her to retreat behind her door. She had
not
intended to speak to Dimitri. She had meant to give her decision to Vladimir, so that
he
could tell the Prince and she wouldn’t have to see him again herself. He had won. And she didn’t care to see him gloating over his victory.

But she wasn’t a coward. She stood her ground as he approached her.

“You wanted to see Vladimir?”

Her eyes flared. “Why those—those—” She glared at the two guards now standing a respectful distance away. “They understood me all along, didn’t they?”

“They know some French, but not enough—”

“Don’t tell me,” she sneered. “Just like the captain, right? Never mind.”

His expression was totally void of emotion as he gazed down at her. “Perhaps I can help you?”

“No.” Too quick. “Yes. No.”

“If you can make up your mind—”

“Oh, very well,” she nearly snapped. “I was going to give Mr. Kirov the message, but since you’re here, I might as well tell you myself. I accept your terms, Alexandrov.” He simply stared at her. Hot pink began to heat her cheeks. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes!” The word was expelled on a breath. His surprise was quite evident now, his smile nearly blinding in its brilliance. “I just wasn’t expecting… I mean, I had begun to think…”

He fell silent, being tongue-tied a whole new experience for him. And he was still at a loss for words. Sweet Christ, here he had been on his way to speak to her, to tell her to forget his stupid demands, and she did this. He still ought to tell her to forget it, that he had been a cad to try and force her to do anything, and yet—and yet it felt too good, winning this battle with her. And it did seem as though he had been through a battle these last four days, with his conscience, with his temper.

He had never dealt with a woman so ruthlessly before, and all because he wanted her while she wanted no part of him. Yet she was giving in, when he had convinced himself she never would and that there was no point in continuing to try and bend her to his will. So perhaps there was still hope after all that she would eventually succumb to his more personal requests.

“I do understand you correctly, Katya? You are now willing to work for me?”

Well, you knew he was going to rub it in, didn’t you, Katherine? This was the very reason you didn’t want to see him—well, one of them. Listen to your heart racing and you know the other reason
.

“I don’t know if I would call it work,” Katherine answered tightly. “I will help your sister because she appears to be in need. Your sister, Alexandrov,” she emphasized, “not you.”

“It is all the same, since I pay her expenses.”

“Expenses? You aren’t going to mention money again, are you?”

He had been going to. Working for him, she would earn ten times what she could have earned in England for the same job. Any other woman would want to know that. But the slant of her eyes warned him not to mention it to this one.

“Very well, no talk of wages,” Dimitri conceded. “But I am curious, Katya. Why did you change your mind?”

She countered his question with one of her own. “Why have you been in such a foul temper these last days?”

“How did—what the devil has that to do with anything?”

“Nothing, probably, except I was told I was the cause. I didn’t believe
that
for a minute, of course, but then I was also told that everyone on the ship was walking around on eggs because of this temper of yours. That’s really rather insensitive of you, Alexandrov. Your people do so try to please you, even to the detriment of others, and here you don’t even notice when you’re frightening them out of their wits. Or did you know, and just not care?”

He was frowning long before she finished. “Are you through criticizing me?”

Her eyes widened with mock innocence. “You did ask why I changed my mind, didn’t you? I was only trying to explain…”

He knew then that she was taunting him deliberately. “So you have capitulated for the sake of my poor servants, have you? If I had known you were going to be so noble, my dear, I would
have ignored my sister’s needs and insisted you attend to mine instead.”

“Why, you—”

“Now, now,” he admonished, his humor restored enough to tease her. “Remember your sacrifice before you say anything that might provoke my temper again.”

“Go to the devil!”

He threw back his head and laughed delightedly. How her fury contradicted her demure appearance. Sweetly innocent she looked in her watered-silk dress of pink and white, modestly high-necked and unadorned, her hair tied back with a simple ribbon as a young child would wear it. And yet her lips were compressed tightly, her eyes sparkled with rancor, and her square little chin jutted out mutinously. Had he really worried that her refreshing spirit might be broken by his callous treatment? He should have known better.

Laughter gone, but still smiling, Dimitri met her furious gaze and found himself caught once again by the curious effect she always seemed to have on him. “Do you know this temper of yours excites me?”

“I can’t say the same of yours—” Katherine began, only to fall abruptly silent as his meaning dawned on her.

Her heart seemed to flip over. Her breath stopped. She was mesmerized, watching his eyes turn more black than brown. And when his hand gently slipped under the hair on her neck and slowly drew her toward him, she was powerless to prevent what she knew was coming.

Every single erotic sensation she had felt while under the influence of that exotic drug returned
to Katherine the moment his lips touched hers. Her limbs turned to jelly, her mind to mush. His tongue slid unhindered between her teeth to leisurely explore her mouth and heat ignited in her loins. Her hips thrust forward instinctively without any encouragement from him. In fact he still only held her neck. It was she who pressed her body close, needing the contact, needing…

Dimitri was utterly amazed by her response to him. He had expected arms to flail and legs to kick, not for her body to turn soft and yielding. Instead of trying to coerce her into his bed, as her firm resistance to him indicated was the only way he would get her there, he should have kissed her sooner.

What a fool he had been. He had not placed her in that well-known category of women who said no when they really meant yes. And yet—and yet there was no coyness about Katherine. There was no pretense to her fiery emotions. She didn’t belong with the artful, deceptive women he was used to, and that left him floundering in confusion even as he delighted in his sudden good fortune.

Katherine felt bereft when the kiss ended. Dimitri’s hand slid around to the side of her face, and just as she had done that fateful night, she turned her cheek into his palm, unaware that she was doing so. It was hearing his sharply indrawn breath at this tender gesture that brought her back to her senses. Her eyes opened to reality and she groaned miserably, even as she sprang into motion.

She placed her hands flat on Dimitri’s chest and pushed hard. He didn’t budge, but because he hadn’t been restraining her in any way, she
nearly stumbled from her own impetus, falling back into her cabin. The distance between them now was all she needed to regain control, even though her pulses were still racing.

She glared at him and threw up a hand when he took a step toward her. “Don’t come any closer, Alexandrov.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t. And don’t you dare try that again.”

“Why?”

“Blast you and your
whys
. Because I don’t want you to, that’s why!”

Dimitri went no further than the doorway. There he leaned against the frame, crossing his arms over the wide expanse of his chest as he studied her thoughtfully.

She was flustered. Good. She was also nervous and perhaps a little frightened too, which gave him a sense of power he had not felt in her presence before. Was it possible she was as surprised as he was by her warm response to his kiss? Was she afraid now that it could happen again?

Little fool. Why was she so loath to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh? But he had learned something from this encounter that would satisfy him for the time being. She wasn’t indifferent to him after all. There was passion in this woman that needed no aphrodisiac to bring it to the surface. It just needed a gentle touch, and there would be other opportunities—he would see to that.

“Very well, Katya, you have convinced me of your abhorrence of kissing.” There was laughter in his tone, for they both knew how ridiculous that statement was. “Come along, then, and I
will introduce you to my sister.” When she didn’t move, he added, “You aren’t really afraid of me now, are you?”

She bristled, because he hadn’t moved yet either. “No, but if you want me to come with you, it might help if you led the way.”

He laughed, but as she followed him down the corridor, she thought she heard him say, “You win this round, little one, but I make no promises to always be so obliging of your wishes.”

“
H
er, Mitya? You think I haven’t heard about her? You think I don’t know she is the little whore you picked up off the street that afternoon in London?
This
is who you give me for a maid?”

This is how Katherine was greeted by Anastasia Petrovna Alexandrovna after Dimitri had introduced them and explained Katherine’s presence. The younger woman had given her only a single glance before ignoring her and attacking her brother as if he had dealt her the most horrendous insult.

Katherine was the one insulted, and yet when she recovered from the shock of having her character maligned, she reacted to the Princess’s contempt in a most unusual way. She stepped in front of Dimitri, who was showing every sign of losing his temper in a matter of seconds, and now that Anastasia could no longer ignore her, she smiled.

“My dear young woman, if I weren’t a lady
and
of moderate temperament, I might be tempted to slap you silly for your offensive manners, let alone your disparagement of me. But since you have obviously been misinformed about me, I suppose I must be tolerant and forgiving. But let us be clear on one point. I am not a whore, Princess. And I am not being
given
to you, as you so arrogantly put it. I agreed to help you because apparently you can’t seem to
help yourself. But I understand that perfectly. Why, look at me. Without my own maid along on this voyage, I haven’t been able to do a thing with my hair, and dressing is most tedious without a little help. So you see I do understand your dilemma, and since I have nothing better to do…”

Katherine could have gone on with her subtle sarcasm, but she was too close to laughing at the Princess’s shocked expression, and besides, she had made her point. Whether it would do any good remained to be seen.

Behind her Dimitri leaned close to whisper, “Tolerant temperament, Katya? When do I get to meet this woman you have described?”

She stepped quickly away from him before turning to bestow on him the same false smile as she had given the Princess. “You know, Alexandrov, I don’t believe your sister is as helpless as you implied. She appears quite capable—”

“Do not be so hasty,” Anastasia cut in, fearing she had gone too far and was now going to lose a supposedly competent maid, which she did desperately need. “I thought I would have to train you, as I would Mitya’s servants, but if you are a lady, as you say, that won’t be necessary. I accept your help. And, Mitya… I thank you for thinking of me.”

It galled Anastasia to have to say even that much to either of them. She was still furious with her brother for dragging her home and for his threats about a future husband. Having to thank him for anything at this time went against the grain. And the Englishwoman! Anastasia’s blood boiled. Dimitri was no doubt tired of the little whore, and that was why he was foisting her off
on her. Lady indeed! But it was possible that she knew more about attending a lady than Dimitri’s other servants, and so she could be useful. Yet Anastasia would not forget the insult she had been dealt by this
peasant
.

“I will leave you, then, to become better acquainted,” Dimitri said.

Anastasia’s smile did not reach her eyes. Katherine’s expression would have been bland except for the tight line of her mouth. Dimitri knew his sister could be difficult to get along with. And Katherine’s temper he had witnessed firsthand. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought these two together, but it was done. If it didn’t work, then there was still the second position for Katherine to fill.

The look Dimitri gave her just before he left warned Katherine of what he had been thinking. He wanted her to fail. He looked forward to it. The scoundrel! Well, she wouldn’t. If it killed her, she would be pleasant to this spoiled, unpleasant child who was his sister.

That determination wore thin after listening to the long list of duties Anastasia had in mind for her. She was to attend to the Princess’s bath, her toilet, her clothes, her meals. The girl wanted to monopolize her every waking moment, even—and Katherine was truly surprised at this—having her sit for a portrait. It appeared Anastasia considered herself a talented artist, and her painting was the only thing she had to keep herself occupied with on the voyage.

“I will call it
The Daisy,”
Anastasia said, speaking of the portrait.

“You liken me to a daisy?”

Anastasia delighted at the opening given her, a chance to belittle the creature. “Well, you are certainly no rose. Yes, a rather sun-browned daisy, with that dull hair—but you do have nice eyes,” she conceded, seeing them widen.

She had beautiful eyes, actually, Anastasia admitted to herself, and a face that might not be pretty in the classical sense, but was certainly interesting. It would, in fact, be a challenge to paint. The more Anastasia looked at her with an artist’s eye instead of with rancor, the more excited she became by the challenge.

“Do you have a yellow dress?” she asked. “It must be done with a yellow dress, for the daisy effect, you understand.”

Keep your calm, Katherine. She’s goading you, and she’s not really very good at it. You’ve cut better than her down to size with little effort
.

“No yellow dress, Princess. You’ll have to improvise, I’m afraid, or envision—”

“No, I must see it…but of course! You will use one of my dresses.”

She was serious. “No, I will not,” Katherine said stiffly.

“But you must. You agreed to let me paint you.”

“I did not agree, Princess. You assumed.”

“Please.”

The word surprised them both. Anastasia looked away to hide a telltale blush, amazed not so much that she had pleaded with the woman but that the portrait had become suddenly so important to her. It would be the most challenging thing she had ever done, not like bowls of fruit or meadows strewn with wild flowers, where one scene was so much like another, nor the few
portraits she had done of her friends, where the blondness and prettiness was a sameness too. No, here was an original for a subject. She just had to paint her.

Katherine, seeing the blush, felt like a petty bitch. She was refusing to do the one thing she actually wouldn’t mind doing. What spite. And why? Because the Princess was spoiled and said things she probably didn’t mean? Or because she was Dimitri’s sister, and saying no to her was like saying no to him, a pleasure?

“Very well, Princess, I will sit for you a few hours each day,” Katherine consented. “But I must insist on a like time to myself.”

The other duties she would deal with as they arose. There was no point in getting into an argument now (she would
not
be scrubbing any backs), when she had this opportunity to get to know Anastasia while her claws were sheathed.