Seized by Love (22 page)

By this time the musicians
were staring rather fixedly at the combatants with disastrous results to the
tempo of the dance; half the waltzers were also quite obviously staring, while
the other half were politely pretending they hadn't observed Alisa's flushed
face, Nikki's grim expression, and the tempestuous dialogue passing between
Prince Kuzan and his newest paramour.

"Rest assured, Prince
Kuzan," Alisa said formally, "I do not solicit your public displays,
or your private displays either."

If Nikki chose to eschew
his responsibility in a typically masculine fashion, she refused to plead or
grovel for aid.

"Once it is discovered
I have a husband living, my repu-tation will be ruined, and an illegitimate
child can hardly further damage a reputation already sunk below reproach. You
can cease directing your tender and public attentions toward me, and I will
with great pleasure rudely repulse you, in which case you will be absolved from
any further tiresome dangling after me."

"Nothing would suit me
better, Madame," he brutally said, "but curiosity impelled me to
ascertain if perhaps your intentions were in the opposite direction. After a
rather candid conversation with my father this afternoon, I wasn't altogether
certain of your earnest desires," he added with suspicious emphasis.

Nikki's irritation was
further provoked as he uncomfortably recalled the confrontation with his father
and the express command issued him.

Alisa gazed at the Prince,
almost speechless with indignation. But she collected herself in a moment more
determined to make her position clear.

"Do I understand,
Monsieur," she said in glacial tones, "that you envisioned me
clinging to you? What monumental arrogance! I fear I must disappoint your
expectations. Unfortunately, you see"—her soft whisper held a world of
fury—"that is a dramatic tableau I find myself incapable of enacting even
to save the child from some unknown fate. Recourse to you as some permanent but
unwilling protector I find wholly repulsive!" She fixed her basilisk eyes
on his.

Unexpectedly, this snappish
diatribe resulted in a bright, boyish grin, a most engaging smile that was
immediately followed by a deep, relaxed chuckle. Nikki's formidable, glowering
countenance was overcome by a benign amusement.

"What a lovely
spitfire you can be, most engaging," he murmured softly as he gazed into
the seductive beauty of Alisa's flushed face, her violet eyes glowing with
anger, her breathing irregular from the violence of her emotions.

Feeling relieved, he said,
"I should have known you weren't behind the damnable fiat delivered by my
father."

Alisa's eyes opened wide in
astonishment as she stared incredulously into Nikki's now-placid gaze.

"What fiat?" she
demanded hastily.

"An unequivocal
command to marry you." He smiled lazily at her surprised face, her lips
parted in wonder. "Now I can inform Father that his coercion is
unnecessary since you're as antagonistic to the union as I am," he
explained amiably.

"What an utterly
preposterous notion in any event, since I am already married. His idea surely
cannot signify." Yet her heart was beating rapidly at the thought.

"On the contrary, my
dear, Father is not one to be contradicted or nonplussed in any of his
idiosyncrasies, as I discovered for the first time today," he said
tranquilly, his self-assurance restored.

"Well, in this
instance he must. The idea is absurd."

"Agreed!" Nikki
unchivalrously replied.

The music stopped and the
dance ended.

Nikki stood looking down at
Alisa, lightly holding her voluptuous warmth in his arms.

"Monsieur, you may now
be excused from my unwelcome presence. Please feel free to grace the dance
floor with some other fortunate object of your attentions," Alisa said
sarcastically.

"Very well, dear, as
you wish." Nikki released his hold, honored her with a weak inclination of
a bow, and, to Alisa's chagrin, very ungraciously accepted her petulant
suggestion as he moved away with the easy stride of a cavalry officer and spent
the rest of the night dancing with Countess Amalienborg. The Countess preened
with unmitigated pleasure at receiving Nikki's attention. Now everyone could
surely see that Nikki was still enamored of her and that little bitch she
gleefully noted, didn't mean anything to him.

Alisa felt her spirits
sinking with a sudden odd pang as she watched them. Only the twin fiends of
stubbornness and pride kept her from succumbing to the unhappy feelings
generated by the spectacle of Nikki and his old mistress dancing across the
room. They were a picture of handsomeness, for the Countess was a tall,
dark-haired beauty with a classic profile, a noble body of Venus most admirably
displayed in black lace with a daringly cut de-colletage, and Nikki's
attractive dark looks and magnificent size suited her to perfection.

I hope her dress is ripped
to shreds by those spurs, Alisa hatefully thought.

Prince Mikhail was furious
with Nikki's behavior, and after seeing Alisa's distress, he insisted they
leave. That ungrateful whelp would pay for this discourteous display, he
reprovingly vowed. Could he have that slut of a Countess sent to Siberia? It
was a thought.

In the early hours of the
morning Nikki reluctantly accepted the Countess's invitation to accompany her
home and with a perfunctory preoccupation fondled and caressed her in the
carriage when she slipped his hand under her skirt.

Now he lay on his back on
her bed, the Countess's head resting in his groin. He watched the reflections
of her activities in the mirror above his head with a certain detachment—as if
he weren't involved in the scene. Her head shifted and her mouth began to move
once again with a soft, sucking sound. She had one of the most magnificent
bodies, he observed, and one of the most degraded imaginations he had ever
known. He rated her on a par with Cora Pearl,? an encomium of the first order,
but by and large he was a man of normal proclivities, a sensualist fastidiously
indifferent to the practices of the deviates. Within seconds these casual
musings ceased as his entire nervous system was forced to concentrate on
Sophie's delicate manipulations. A little later the flickering mirrored
vignettes of Countess Amalienborg's movements had stilled, she had swallowed,
and Nikki closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He relaxed in the silence, not
wishing to see or talk to her.

The black-haired Venus
slowly eased across his body, running her hands up and down his torso, cupping
her fingers gently around his testicles. He shook off her hand.

"Not now,
Sophie."

"I want you to
dominate me, Nikki!" she moaned. Those damnable long fingers of hers were
perversely effective. Her skill was remarkable. He was rigid already.

"Hurt me, Nikki!"
she pleaded, pulling at him to enter her.

Christ, tonight he didn't
like her in this mood, and she was irritating the hell out of him, Damn her! He
took her then like a dog and forced her to do his bidding. But Nikki's black
mood served only to further excite her. Minutes later he rose from the bed,
disgusted.

Why did he always get
involved with women like Tanya and Sophie, who wanted tyranny in the bedroom?

"Nikki, where are you
going?" she cried, attempting to cling to him. "Stay with me!"

Three times was too much.
He was feeling tired and hadn't wished to see Sophie again in the first place.
If it weren't for wanting to spite his father and Alisa, he wouldn't have even
addressed a civil hello to the Countess at the Golchoffs.

"I'm fatigued and long
for my own bed," he replied curtly as he dressed rapidly.

"You just long for
that harlot sleeping in your bed!" the Countess screamed in anger.
"What about my pleasure?"

Nikki was pulling on his
boots and closed his eyes in revulsion and weariness. He eased himself slowly
from the chair, turned to the door, and as he walked out of the room, said
coldly, "I'll send your wolfhound in for your pleasure. I understand he's
one of your special perversions. Adieu, Sophie."

On the ride home he rested
his head gratefully against the velvet squabs and attempted to rid himself of
the loathing Sophie engendered in him. He reminded himself that Sophie's
perversities hadn't always disgusted him—in fact, her extraordinary expertise
had been a major element in her attractiveness. What was happening to him? All
he could think of was Alisa. Day and night, her beauty, her artlessness, even
her stubborn temper. He chuckled. God, he missed her. After tonight Sophie was
definitely off his list.

Arriving home, he slowly
walked up the stairway and down the long marble hallway into his rooms. Without
pausing, he continued through the adjoining doorway into Alisa's bedchamber,
wanting to look at her peaceful beauty and rid himself of Sophie's taint. He'd
expected Alisa to be sleeping at this late hour, but she lay wide awake,
propped up against a bolster of pillows, the faint light of a single lamp
dancing her shadow across the wall. Before he had time to speak she acidly
remarked, "You positively reek of a woman's perfume!"

"Countess
Amalienborg's," he replied candidly, unused to the necessity of
explanation. He walked closer to her bed.

"How dare you!"
Alisa retorted in affront, drawing away from him.

"How dare I?"
Nikki's eyebrows rose in genuine perplexity. The idea of explaining his actions
to a mistress was unthinkable.

"It's unspeakable!
Coming here warm from another woman's body! You're despicable, detestable!"
she cried, her eyes blazing with indignation.

"Is that a fact,
Madame," he responded almost gently, goaded by her challenging posture.
His eyes held a distinct menace. "Mistresses should not harangue. It isn't
wise," he quietly reminded her.

"I didn't choose to
become your mistress, and I don't choose to conduct myself wisely at this late
date!" Alisa snapped back, unabashed by those dangerous eyes, for
frustration and resentment were making her reckless. It had been a long,
sleepless night with images of Nikki and the Countess prevalent in her
thoughts.

"It seems, then, that
you need some schooling in the duties and behavior of mistresses," Nikki
remarked with narrowed eyes glaring.

"I need no instruction
from the sordid likes of you, if you don't mind!" the haughty, undutiful
mistress replied.

"If
I don't mind?
But I
do
mind, Madame," Nikki returned silkily. "You see, I
dislike acrimonious contre-dits when I'm in the humor for an amenable mistress
to comfort a black mood."

"Get your 'comfort,'
you whoremonger, from that whore Sophie! As you may have noticed, I'm not in an
amenable mood!" she spat out angrily.

"Please, Mrs. Forseus,
don't be vulgar. Vulgar women I can find by the score." Nikki's lips
curled into an unfriendly smile while he thought resentfully: Two bitchy women
in one night. By God, it's too much! First the lingering bad taste over
Sophie's tantrum and now totally unnecessary goading from this indignant woman.

"You just do as you
please, don't you?" Alisa continued, angrily clutching the bedclothes to
her heaving bosom.

"As I please!"
Nikki snarled, the black rage and irritation of the long day, his interview
with his father, the long afternoon and evening drinking at the club, his
required appearance at the Golchoffs' party, the unwanted ministrations of
Sophie, and now this screaming, shrewish virago all finally burst into an
uncontrollable fury. Needless to say, twelve hours of drinking brandy did
little to curb or tran-quilize his foul disposition.

"Perhaps I can
persuade you to alter your 'mood,' " Nikki enunciated evenly as he walked
slowly toward the bed, beginning to unbutton his tunic jacket. "Move
over," he said unpleasantly through gritted teeth, continuing to strip off
his clothes. Lifting first one foot and then the other onto the silk
counterpane, he unbuckled his spurs and dropped them on the floor.

"Damnable boots!"
he cursed, sitting heavily on the bed; it was impossible to remove them without
help. He turned to Alisa and pulled the bedclothes from her.

"Put your back to these
boots, Madame, or I'll ride you shod. At least Sophie knows enough to help me
off with them."

"I suppose that whore
serves you gladly!" Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Yes, and now this
whore will serve me, gladly or no. Bend to the task, my dear."

He lay on the bed and flung
one foot into her lap.

"Pull, dammit, I'm in
a hurry!"

As Alisa struggled with
first one tall, slim patent leather boot and then the second, Nikki stripped
the leather breeches from his hips and dropped them onto the floor. Lying back
on his elbows at the foot of the bed, he surveyed his seething mistress with a
cold, predatory gaze.

"Don't you dare touch
me!" she cried.

"Dare? I dare? Mrs.
Forseus, you bait the wrong man tonight." His tone was dangerous.
"Now, my sweet, take off that negligee, or it will be in shreds in
seconds."