Seized by Love (25 page)

Nikki's brow lifted as a
flicker of relief shone in his eyes.

"If that's all you
want, why didn't you say something?" The tense crease between his brows
relaxed.

"You've not been
exactly available these many days past, Monsieur."

"Rest assured, my
love, the oversight will be remedied. I'll have Ivan find you something
suitable tomorrow. This damn living in my parents' apartments has been
hellishly inconvenient."

A smile broke across his
handsome face. "It'll be pleasant to have you for myself again without my
parents' affronted breath constantly on my neck."

"I think you
misunderstand, Prince," Alisa flung back at him defiantly. "I wish to
live alone. Alone.'" she distinctly enunciated.

His smile disappeared in an
instant.

"In that case, Madame,
you will stay here. I'll not have you available for all the lecherous
acquaintances of mine to patronize. Keep the money, but if you attempt to
leave, I'll have you locked in… and to hell with Father," he growled.

"Remember now, I mean
what I say," he said ominously. "If you try to flee, I'll run you to
ground within the day, and if I'm put to that irksome exertion, you'll find my
temper disagreeable. Dammit, Madame," he exploded, "you
will
do as I say!" And so commanding he turned and left the room.

Like a bird in a gilded
cage, she dismally reflected. Why was she so unhappy, so desolate. If he would
just say he cared, she sadly thought. Why couldn't he say he cared?

The party-going resumed,
both Alisa and Nikki perhaps even more deliberately provoking to each other.
Out of spite, for the effort was excruciatingly boring, Nikki occasionally paid
homage to young Emilie, preferably at a ball or a party where he didn't have to
endure long stretches of her undiluted company, but by and large Nikki had
returned to spending his evenings at the club. His gambling and drinking were
deep and heavy, his remarks often bordering on the insulting. A defiant
recklessness spurred his actions and even his closest friends judiciously chose
to tread warily, not eager to provoke his sarcasm or find themselves at the
other end of his dueling pistol.

Precisely at two each night
Yukko would appear at his side, the cards would be discarded regardless of the
hand, irrespective of his gains or losses; Nikki would rise slowly, offer
polite excuses to his partners, and stroll out of the club, followed by Yukko.

Each night, in turn,
curious, watchful eyebrows were raised as Prince Kuzan's late appearance was
duly noted at the parties, routs, or festivities graced by his beautiful
"cousin."

Invariably, he would
sullenly lean against one of the walls, drink in hand, nursing his anger, and
follow with glowering eyes the slender figure of Alisa as she whirled past in a
waltz or flirted brightly with the young officers.

One evening an old tabby
approached Nikki and remarked injudiciously with a jolly little titter,
"It appears your cousin is quite surrounded by admirers, and just when it
had been rumored that you had developed a tendre for the poor creature."
(The "poor creature" in this instance was laughing gaily at some
sally from young Count Berzlov. She was arrayed in a sumptuous creation of
green gauze and diamond brilliants decorated with sprays of silk apple blossoms
tied in place with green velvet bows, her ripe, luscious bosom a foil for the
magnificent emeralds.) Nikki watched her and seethed.

"It seems you are most
alarmingly hindered by rivals. For one must admit your cousin is beautiful as
sin."

"Countess," Nikki
replied as calmly as his inebriated mind was capable, "my 'cousin'
"—he purred the word maliciously—"occasionally lacks discrimination
in her friendships. But let me suggest, Madame, that in the future perhaps I
shall remedy her shortcoming," he finished acerbically, bowed insolently,
and walked away.

Since being locked out from
Alisa's bedroom, Nikki's temper hadn't been improved by his unaccustomed
celibacy. Emilie was untouchable, had he even felt the inclination, which he
didn't. There was little challenge in such a simpering child, and little
pleasure, too, he imagined. The four incidents with dancers hardly counted;
merely a perfunctory performance briefly engaged and as rapidly forgotten.
Other women simply didn't look interesting anymore. Damn Alisa's alluring ways!
He couldn't shake from his thoughts the beauty and sensuality of this unique,
infuriating minx.

It had been a long,
frustrating, exceptionally irritating two weeks. With a palpable but losing
effort he was attempting to maintain some semblance of control over his growing
irritation.

They met quite by accident
one evening, two nights later.

Alisa, having been left by
her partners, who went solicitously to fetch her an ice, heard a familiar
chuckle and whirled around. Nikki was standing almost directly behind her,
lounging against a pillar.

For over a fortnight he'd
treated her with coolness when they met at a social affair or in the rooms of
the Kuzan palace. The golden eyes that stared into hers were both insolent and
admiring.

"Merde,
you look
demure. A creditable feat for a whore clothed in that gown. Are you displaying
your wares for the highest bidder? The gauze of your bodice almost reveals more
than it covers." The sarcasm coiled around her, silky smooth and faintly
menacing as he approached.

"At least, should I
choose to accept one of the bidders, I can offer him warmth in bed, which is
more than you'll get from that pale confection of a mechanical doll you have
been squiring around. How is she in bed, by the way?" Alisa retorted
angrily.

"Not much good,"
he lied. "But one can always find someone else to warm my flesh, my dear,
should I tire of the giggling," he coldly declared as his eyes lingered on
her pretty breasts which were almost completely exposed. "May I compliment
you on the effectiveness of your ensemble. Never have I seen wantonness so
beautifully unclothed. One's imagination quite runs apace. You fairly invite
ravishment dressed in such a fashion," he bluntly went on as his bold
glance swept Alisa's form in the blue silk ball gown draped with a tunic of
tulle trimmed with cut-outs of lace applique. "We're all waiting
breathlessly to see if your gown will contain those luscious breasts so
precariously balanced above these wisps of tulle," his sneering voice
intoned as his long, lean index finger insolently flicked the offending blue tulle
ruffles.

"Don't touch me,"
Alisa whispered hoarsely.

"They're probably
taking bets in the card room right now as to whether you stay in or out of your
dress tonight. May I offer my services in helping you out of it?" Nikki
leered. "Although, no doubt, every man in this room will be equally eager
to offer you the same assistance."

A red flush rose up Alisa's
slender neck and flamed on her cheeks.

"Blushing, my love?
Outfitted in this gown that leaves so little to the imagination? I would have
conjectured you were beyond maidenly blushes and soon into a new bed."

"And thanks to your
excellent tutoring, Prince Kuzan, my new bed partners won't be disappointed in
my accomplishments," she spitefully cooed.

"Did I remember to
teach you everything?" Nikki paused in mocking thoughtfulness. "In
any event, I'm sure your resourcefulness will prevail, but just a word of
warning.

Although your lovers, no
doubt, won't be disappointed, you might be." He grinned.

It was too much. Alisa
turned and walked away in a furious rage, damning his insufferable arrogance.

The next several of Alisa's
partners were nervously disconcerted to find their waltzing even more carefully
followed by the coldly watchful eyes of Prince Kuzan, who was now holding up
another pillar and refreshing himself rather regularly as the footmen went by
with champagne. One might almost think he was trying to get drunk as he tossed
down a glass, reached for another and repeated the action.

Lt. Bobrinski in the deep
throes of infatuation made the mistake of waltzing Alisa through the large
arcade into the conservatory. Nikki with apparent calm drained his champagne
glass and followed. Alisa and the lieutenant were seated on a delicate iron
bench under the brilliant display of a blossoming gardenia tree. Lieutenant
Bobrinski was ardently pouring out his love to an embarrassed Alisa, offering
her his hand, his heart, his rather considerable wealth.

With a baleful eye and a
temper goaded beyond civility, Nikki surveyed this tender scene and then walked
boldly up to the couple, interrupting Alisa in the midst of her confused
acknowledgment of the deep honor she felt in having Pavlov regard her with so
much affection.

Nikki's imperturbable voice
finished Alisa's flustered statement by drawling, "Tempting as your offer
is, Pavlov, my friend, I'm afraid Mrs. Forseus rather counts on having me for a
husband."

The Lieutenant began
protesting.

Quite pleasantly Nikki told
him to be quiet, then continued. "If you will excuse us, Pavlov,"
Nikki said coolly, fixing him with a look of such cold malevolence that the
young Lieutenant stammered his adieus and hastily retreated.

"Must you always
interfere?" Alisa flashed angrily.

"You wouldn't really
consider marrying the pup, would you, my dear?" Nikki drawled.

"A lot more than I
would ever consider marrying you," she retorted rudely.

"Ah, may I disagree
with you, my love? But then, as the saying goes, since nobody asked you,"
he murmured damp-ingly, "I fear we shall never know. And then, darling,
think what a shock Pavlov would have if you were to give birth to a child
before you had time to marry or shortly after the ceremony. Now, if the child
were Pavlov's, there would be no problem, even if it was born six months
prematurely. As he well knows, being a direct descendant of Catherine the Great
and Orloff, there is no stigma attached to illegitimacy if one's rank in
society is lofty enough. But his family might frown on unanticipated
progeny."

"Pavlov knows me as a
widow just recently bereaved. A posthumous child is not without precedent,"
she spat out irritably at Nikki's smug countenance.

"Not, however, when
the child is born bearing my stamp," he quellingly retorted. "These
black, wolfish features have an embarrassing inclination to reproduce," he
softly murmured. "So you see, a posthumous child in my image might require
a bit of explaining. Am I not right?"

Refusing to answer his
insolence, she said instead, wishing to wound as deeply as possible,
"Maybe I should just not bring this pregnancy to term and put a stop to
all these senseless arguments."

"Do not," he said
in an awful voice, "even consider it." His tawny eyes smoldered.
"It's too damned dangerous. Illy-ich's little actress bled to death last
year because of a botched abortion. Let me assure you, it wasn't a pretty sight."

His words had the desired
effect as Alisa paled visibly.

"At least these men
treat me with respect and courtesy."

Alisa retorted, annoyed at
Nikki's checking her riposte, allowing the obvious comparison to hang in the
air.

"Everyone has their
own approach to the citadel, my love," Nikki returned brutally.
"Don't delude yourself,
cherie,
they all have their tongues
hanging out for the same thing, but some cloak their desires in a soothingly
deceitful address."

"May I disagree with
your coarse intimations of my suitors' intentions. I've received several
proposals of marriage. This isn't the first. Is that a fine enough indication
of my beaus' regard for the proprieties?" Alisa smiled smugly.

Nikki's eyes were cold as
he met her mocking gaze.

"Other marriage
proposals? You have? Married? Married?" he repeated. "If you were to
be so foolish, I would make you a widow soon enough, by God!" He swore
softly and long. "Married? By Christ, we'll see about that!"

She was his, by God; he'd
wakened her to womanhood, had drawn the female from her shell of naivete. She
wasn't fair game for every drooling, callow youth, every lustful eye, every
practiced man-about-town. Wasn't his mark on her, wasn't she carrying his
child? How dare they address marriage proposals to her, he thought with the
unmitigated audacity of a Kuzan born and raised. He would tolerate this charade
no longer! Locked out of her bed, her person guarded by his parents like an
unblemished virgin, an untouchable holy relic. He
would
have her
again, he decided, his anger dangerously roused.

"I've watched you
flirt and entice and coyly cast out lures for the last two weeks. My
acquiescent temperament has reached its limit. You will flirt no more!" he
quietly growled.

"Acquiescent!"
she snorted. "Sooner try to convince me that the world is flat or that the
sun rises in the west, you arrogant bastard!"

"Acquiescent," he
whispered through clenched teeth, and meant it, for what else had curtailed his
rising fury these past weeks if not that sterling trait. He wasn't unfeeling
and could understand the angry motives that prompted Alisa's light amorous
bantering these several days, but when marriage proposals resulted, he drew the
line. Nikki's altruism never stretched so far as to sharing his mistress.