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Authors: Johanna Lindsey

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BOOK: Secret Fire
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“Well, you can’t have it.”

She picked up her paint brush and stabbed it into the yellow ocher. Dimitri gripped her arm just above the elbow to keep her from ruining the picture in her sudden pique.

“How much?” he demanded.

“You can’t buy it, Mitya.” She took pleasure in denying him. “It’s not for sale. And besides, I was going to give it to Katherine. I have enjoyed her company during this tedious voyage and—”

“Then what will you take for it?”

“Noth—” She paused with a jolt. He was serious. And if he wanted the picture that badly, she could probably ask him for anything and get it. “Why do you want it?”

“It is the best you have ever done,” he said simply.

She frowned. “That’s not the impression you gave when Katherine was here. ‘Is it so awful?’ ‘No, not at all,’” she mimicked, still annoyed by his bland answer.

“Name your price, Nastya.”

“I want to return to England.”

“Not at this time.”

“Then I want to choose my own husband.”

“You are too young to make such a decision. But I will allow you the right to refuse my choice, if your refusal is reasonable, which is more than Misha would have allowed you were he still alive.”

That was so true. Their older half-brother had hardly concerned himself with her and would have simply arranged her marriage, probably to someone she didn’t even know, one of his army cronies, no doubt. And what Dimitri was offering was more than she could have hoped for, even if they hadn’t been at odds over her indiscretions.

“But what if your idea of what is reasonable differs from mine?”

“Such as?”

“Too old or ugly or obnoxious.”

Dimitri smiled at her, for the first time in a long while with the old warmth he reserved just for her. “All reasonable objections.”

“Do you promise, Mitya?”

“I promise you will have a husband who will be acceptable to you.”

Anastasia smiled now, half in apology for her recent behavior, and half in delight. “The portrait is yours.”

“Good, but she’s not to see it, Nastya, not now and not when it’s finished.”

“But she’s expecting—”

“Tell her it was knocked over, the paint smeared, that it was ruined.”

“But why?”

“You have portrayed her not as she is but as she would like us to believe she is. And I don’t want her to know how superb her performance actually is.”

“Performance?”

“She’s no lady, Nastya.”

“Nonsense,” Anastasia protested with a short laugh. “I have spent time with her, Mitya. Are you suggesting I can’t tell the difference between a lady and a common peasant? Her father is an English earl. She is highly educated, more than any woman I know.”

“Nikolai and Konstantin are also well educated, as well as—”

“You think she’s a bastard like them?” Anastasia gasped in surprise.

“It would explain her education and lack of social position.”

“Very well, but so what?” Anastasia came to the defense of her friend as well as of her half-brothers. “In Russia, bastards are accepted—”

“Only if they are acknowledged. You know as well as I that for every noble bastard raised a prince, there are a dozen raised as serfs. And in England it is much worse. There they always carry the taint of their birth and are scorned by the nobility, no matter who claims them.”

“But she spoke of family, Mitya, of living with this Earl of Strafford.”

“Perhaps only wishful thinking on her part.”

Anastasia frowned. “Why don’t you like her?”

“Have I said I don’t?”

“But you don’t believe her.”

“No. But she intrigues me. She is consistent in her lies, if nothing else. Now will you do as I ask?”

Anastasia continued to frown, but she nodded.

T
he ship was silent again. Katherine refused to take the credit this time, no matter how often she was looked at beseechingly by Dimitri’s servants, as if she could do something about his most recent foul mood. All she had done was refuse to have dinner with him. That couldn’t possibly account for such surliness on his part. He hadn’t even appeared interested when he invited her and seemed totally unmoved when she declined. No, they weren’t going to place the blame on her shoulders this time.

But what if you’re wrong, Katherine? What if a simple little overture could make a difference and relieve some of the tension? Even Anastasia has been quiet and subdued. And you have been meaning to speak to him about his library
.

She made up her mind that morning, and an hour later knocked on Dimitri’s door. Maksim opened it and quickly exited as soon as she entered the room. He was surprised to see her, but no more than Dimitri. The Prince immediately straightened his posture and smoothed back his hair, then caught himself doing it and slumped back in the chair behind his desk. Katherine didn’t notice. She was staring at the papers strewn across the desk and wondering what could keep Dimitri occupied on such a long voyage. She would have been intrigued to know he was presently reviewing proposals from numer
ous factories and mills in the Rhineland that he was considering buying. Analyzing tedious reports was just what Katherine excelled at.

She finally glanced up at him and was disappointed to see such an inscrutable look returned, beautiful, but utterly devoid of emotion. She became nervous, wishing she had never come up with the idea of imposing on him, even if it was for something so minor.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” She looked quickly away from him toward the wall of books. “I couldn’t help noticing…before… I mean when I was here before, your extensive collection—”
For God’s sake, Katherine, why are you stammering like a ninny?
“Would you mind if I borrowed a book or two?”

“Borrow? No. The insulation in here keeps them from being ruined by the sea air. But you are welcome to read anything you like in here.”

She swung around too quickly, revealing her surprise and unease. “In here?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t mind the company, even silent company—unless you’re afraid to be in the same room with me.”

She stiffened. “No, but—”

“I won’t touch you, Katya, if that is what worries you.”

He spoke sincerely, his expression blasé. He didn’t care, she realized. He had made just a simple offer and a reasonable one. She hadn’t even thought of the sea air which could indeed ruin an expensive book.

Katherine nodded and approached the bookshelves, trying vainly to pretend she was alone in the room. After several moments she made her selection and moved to the white satin sofa to
make herself comfortable. The book was a short commentary on Russia by a French count who had spent five years there. Katherine would have loved reading it, to give her more insight into these people, and she could read French as easily as English. But today she might as well have been blind.

More than an hour passed, and Katherine still wasn’t able to digest even a single word. It was impossible to concentrate in the same room with Dimitri, wondering if he was watching her, too nervous to look up and find out. Even without looking at him, she could feel his presence dominating her, working strangely on her senses. She felt warm and hot by degrees, while the room was actually pleasantly cool. And her nerves were definitely frazzled. The slightest noise made her start and her heart pick up its beat.

“This isn’t working, is it, Katya?”

God, what a relief to have him put an end to this torture. And she didn’t need to ask him to explain his statement. Had it been just as difficult for him to concentrate with her there? No, that was silly. He had probably just sensed her discomfort.

“No, it isn’t,” she answered with some embarrassment.

She closed the book in her lap before she looked up at him. It was a mistake. What his voice hadn’t revealed his eyes did. They were that certain shade of velvety brown she had come to associate with his passion, lustrous, almost black, and so intense. They seemed to strip her naked, to probe into her soul for an answering chord of feeling she didn’t dare give into.

“Your options are limited at the moment,” he said quietly, his voice so contrary to the emotion in his eyes. “Either get into my bed or take the book and leave. But do one or the other—now.”

She was unable to resist a glance toward his bed. God, the temptations this man threw at her one after another. She had thought there would be no more.
Wrong again, Katherine
.

“I—I think I had better leave.”

“As…you…wish.”

The words struggled out of him. It was all Dimitri could do just to remain seated, when every muscle screamed to leap up and stop her from fleeing. What kind of masochist was he to inflict such torture on himself? It was hopeless. She wasn’t going to change. Why did he persist?

Katherine leaned back against the closed door, her heart still hammering, her cheeks flushed, and she was clutching the book so tightly to her chest that her fingers hurt. She felt as though she had just escaped her execution. Perhaps she had. Dimitri threatened her beliefs, her principles, her self-esteem. He was capable of destroying her will, and then what would be left of her?

But she had so desperately wanted to walk to that bed. And if he had gotten up, if he had made one move toward her… She had seen in the last glance she had stolen in his direction what it had cost him not to move: the clenched fists, the straining muscles, the grimace etched on his features.

God, what madness to have sought him out. She should have remembered it wasn’t safe to be alone with him. But she had thought he had lost
interest. Couldn’t she even assume the obvious where he was concerned?

Katherine walked away, lines of worry creasing her brow once again. But the melancholy that had been dogging her lately was gone.

T
he carriage sped along at an alarming rate, the view through the window nearly a blur. Katherine had developed a headache from trying to distinguish anything of the passing scenery and gave up. At any rate, her main concentration was in trying to keep her seat.

Anastasia laughed at her gasps and cringes. “This is a normal ride, my dear, nothing to be alarmed about. Wait until winter, when the wheels are exchanged for runners. Then the
troika
really races along.”

“You mean you turn carriages into sleighs?”

“Of course. We have to with so much snow and ice covering the roads for most of the year. I know in England you usually keep a sleigh just for when it snows. We could do the same, only in reverse, but instead of storing a
troika
for only a few months’ use, we convert it. Much more economical, don’t you think?”

Katherine had to smile, quite sure that Anastasia had never once concerned herself with economics, at least not on a personal level. But the smile didn’t last. The carriage turned abruptly, and she lost her grip on the seat and slammed into the side wall, which was fortunately well padded with a thick gold velvet. Unhurt, she started to laugh, seeing that Anastasia had also bumped shoulders with the wall, and the younger girl joined her. She could see how Russians might enjoy such rides if they grew up with
them. A child, she imagined, would be thrilled by such an experience.

When Anastasia regained her composure, she said, “We are almost there.”

“Where?”

“Didn’t Mitya tell you? He has decided to leave me with our older half-sister, Varvara, and her family. She rarely leaves the city, except to escape for a while the damp of autumn. I don’t mind at all, even though St. Petersburg is so boring in August, with everyone off to their summer palaces on the Black Sea coast or traveling. But this will keep me out from under Aunt Sonya’s thumb for a while more, which suits me perfectly.”

“And where is Dimitri going?”

“To Novii Domik, our country estate, and he’s in a terrible hurry.” She frowned. “He won’t even stop to see Varvara, which is really too bad of him. But I’m sure he will see you safely settled first, probably with one of the families associated with the British Embassy. I wish you could stay with me. I’m sure Varvara wouldn’t mind. But Mitya said it wouldn’t be convenient at this time. Do you know why?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t spoken to him at all.”

“Oh—well, I wouldn’t worry about it. Mitya must know what he’s doing. But you will promise to visit me as soon as possible. I want to show you everything.”

“Princess, I think there’s something you should know about—”

“Oh, here we are! And look, there’s one of my nieces. How she’s grown!”

The carriage stopped before a huge house that in England would have been termed a palace, but
then it seemed as if every other building Katherine had seen on this wild ride through St. Petersburg had been either a palace or a barracks. But she wasn’t surprised. She did know something of Russia’s history, in particular that Peter the Great, who had built this jewel of a city with the forced labor of his serfs, had also forced his nobles to build stone mansions here, with the threat of exile or execution if they refused.

Anastasia immediately jumped out of the carriage, but the many footmen in red-and-silver livery who had come running down the steps made sure she didn’t fall. Katherine watched as two of them practically carried her up the stairs, a hand on each elbow as if they thought she couldn’t maneuver a few steps by herself. And then the little golden-haired niece was in her arms, clamoring for a generous hug.

A homecoming. It made Katherine’s throat tighten. When would she have hers? She should have said something to Anastasia sooner. The girl was the only one who could really help her, the only one who would consider defying Dimitri. There was still time, but only a few minutes.

Katherine reached for the door, but was knocked back against the seat as the carriage took off again. Frantically she stuck her head out the window, but the most she could do was return Anastasia’s wave. She was already too far away to hear her calling goodbye.

For the first time, she now noticed Dimitri’s Cossacks trailing behind the carriage. To escort her to the Embassy? Somehow she didn’t think so. Blast and bloody hell! Why had she waited so long to tell Anastasia the truth?
Because you came to like the silly girl, that’s why, and you didn’t
want to hurt her by telling her what a bastard her brother really is. Now what’s to do? You wait and see, that’s what. He can’t keep you isolated from other people now. Somehow you’ll be able to talk to someone who will help
.

Encouraging thoughts, so why didn’t they cheer her? Because she had been locked in her cabin today just as she had been every other time the ship had put into some port for supplies on this long voyage. She had waited and waited, and thought night would never come when she might be let out. And it didn’t come. She finally realized that Russia must be similar to those few other northern countries that had no night in summer; St. Petersburg, at least, was almost on a parallel with Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. It had been late when Vladimir took her off the ship and placed her in the carriage with Anastasia. And now she was being taken where?

It wasn’t long before the carriage stopped in front of another palace, this one even more impressive than Varvara’s. But no one came to open the door for Katherine, so she assumed she wasn’t destined to be left here. She was correct. After about a minute, the huge doors opened at the top of the wide stairs and Dimitri appeared and came directly down to the carriage.

Katherine was too tense to be cordial when he took the seat opposite her. “I don’t appreciate being whisked around by a mad driver in a city I don’t know at God knows what hour, and furthermore—”

“What did she say when you told her?”

She glowered at him for the interruption. “Told who? What?”

“Don’t be tedious, Katya,” he sighed. “Nastya. You did tell her your sad story, didn’t you?”

“Oh—actually, no.”

His brow rose sharply. “No? Why not?”

“There wasn’t time,” she replied stiffly.

“You have had weeks—”

“Oh, shut up, Dimitri. I was going to tell her, don’t think I wasn’t. She ought to know what a despicable cad you are. And I started to, but we arrived at your other sister’s home too soon, and Anastasia was excited and left so quickly… Don’t you dare laugh!”

He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t seen her like this since the beginning of the voyage, with such fire in those lovely blue-green eyes. He had forgotten how delightful she could be in her fury. And she had put his last worry to rest. Anastasia could have caused a problem if she had decided to champion Katherine’s cause. He had become too lax in thinking that if Katherine hadn’t told her by the end of the voyage, she wouldn’t tell her at all. He hadn’t realized until after the travel arrangements had been made and the two women were given a carriage to themselves that the last minute would be the opportune time to enlist his sister’s aid. But Katherine had failed. Intentionally? Sweet Christ, he would like to think so.

“It is as well you didn’t tell her, Katya,” he commented as he settled back in the luxurious seat.

“For you,” she retorted.

“Yes, it does make things easier.”

“So now what?”

“You will remain with me for a while more.”

He had attended to all his immediate business in the city that afternoon. Servants had been dispatched ahead to inform his aunt that he was back and would soon be home. Others had been sent out to locate Vasili, and of course, Tatiana. He still didn’t want to think about resuming his courtship, though he knew he would have to soon. But now his thoughts were filled with Katherine and the week ahead. He would have her more to himself with Anastasia left behind in the city. There was no telling what that might lead to.

“Can’t you just send me home now?”

The wistful note in Katherine’s voice annoyed Dimitri, but he shrugged it off. “Not until I hear that the Tzar has concluded his visit to England. But come now, surely you will want to see some of Russia as long as you are here. You will enjoy the trip to Novii Domik. It is about two hundred fifty miles east of here in the province of Vologda.”

“Dimitri! That’s practically the full length of England! Are you taking me to Siberia?”

He smiled at her natural ignorance. “My dear, Siberia is across the Ural Mountains, and the Urals are a thousand miles away. Have you really no concept of the size of my country?”

“Apparently not,” she mumbled.

“You could probably fit a hundred of your Englands into Russia. Novii Domik is hardly any distance at all in comparison and will take less than a week to reach, what with the extra daylight hours we have to travel in during this season.”

“Must I go? Can’t you leave me here?”

“Certainly, if you want to remain behind a locked door for a month or more. In the country, Katya, there are no English.” He didn’t have to explain the significance of that. “You will have much more freedom and more to do. You did say you were adept at numbers. My bookkeepers have no doubt been lax while I’ve been away.”

“You would trust me with your accounts?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“No, actually—blast it, Dimitri, you really think you’re going to come out of this without the least consequence, don’t you? You think I’m such a fainthearted ninny that I won’t see you pay, that I won’t do
something
to cause you grief? You never did comprehend what you’ve done to me
and
my family, or rather, you don’t care. You’ve ruined my reputation by dragging me here without a proper chaperon. I’ll have to literally buy a husband when I’m ready for one, because I’m too honest not to admit what I’m now lacking, thanks to you. My sister’s life is probably ruined now too, which you are also responsible for, because I wasn’t there to prevent her from eloping with a fortune hunter. My brother wasn’t ready for the responsibility my absence has no doubt forced on him. And my father—”

Katherine’s tirade was cut off abruptly when Dimitri leaned forward, grabbed her shoulders, and dragged her across the carriage into his lap. “So I have wronged you. I am the first to admit it. But your situation is not as bad as you would make it, Katya. I will buy you a chaperon who will swear she was with you every minute and won’t change her story on threat of death. As for your lost virtue, I will give you a fortune to buy
this husband you want, if you insist on having one, but it will also enable you to live independently if you would rather, without a husband or any man to answer to. And if your sister has married this fellow you object to, I can make her a widow—it is that simple. As for your brother… How old is he?”

“Twenty-three,” she answered without thinking, too stunned at the moment to do otherwise.

“Twenty-three, and you’re worried he can’t shoulder a little responsibility? Give the boy a chance, Katya. As for your father, I don’t wish to discuss him. If he misses you, he will certainly better appreciate you when you return. Let me tell you instead what else I have done to you.”

“Don’t.”

“Ah, but I insist.” He chuckled when she tried unsuccessfully to leave her new seat. “I forced you to take a vacation, which you sorely needed if even half of the things you claim are true. I have given you adventure, new friends, new places to see, even a new language—yes, Marusia has told me how quickly you mastered Russian with her help.” His voice suddenly deepened. “I have also forced you to experience new and wonderful feelings. I introduced you to passion.”

“Stop it!” Her eyes flared as she pushed against his chest to keep him from drawing her closer. “You think you have all the answers, but you don’t. First off, a chaperon means nothing when my disappearance without a word speaks for itself. And I won’t accept your money. I’ve told you that repeatedly. My father is wealthy, extremely wealthy. I could live quite comfortably for the rest of my life on my dowry alone. If you
want to give away a fortune, give it to Lord Seymour—he needs it, I don’t—and I certainly wouldn’t let you kill him, for God’s sake, no matter how much misery he will cause my sister.”

Before she could say another word, Dimitri defied the push of her hands and kissed her. It wasn’t exactly an ardent kiss, just enough to stop the flow of her words—at first. It became much more than that after only a few seconds. His kisses were a drug, a potent tranquilizer. Katherine became all weak and malleable—and heard him groan.

“Sweet Christ!” And then his eyes looked into hers, those dark, hypnotic eyes. “We don’t need a bed. Say we don’t need a bed, Katya.”

His fingers were stealing under her skirt as he spoke. She put her hand down to block the way.

“No.”

“Katya—”

“No, Dimitri!”

He leaned back, closing his eyes. “This is what I get for asking.”

Katherine didn’t comment. She was so flustered that she could barely make it back to her seat when he released her.

“I had thought to share the carriage with you, but that’s not such a good idea, is it?” he continued. “I would end up attacking you within a mile.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He opened one eye with the brow sharply cocked, then the other with a sigh. “No, but you would consider any overture an attack, wouldn’t you, little one? And since I can’t quite manage to keep my hands to myself, I suppose the decent
thing to do is leave.” He waited a moment, hoping she would contradict him. He sighed again when she didn’t, long and loud. “Very well. But be warned, Katya. The time is going to come when I won’t be so easily managed. You had best hope you are on your way back to England before then.”

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