When she looked down at herself, she was amazed to see her skin flushed to match the warmth she was feeling. And her nipples were hard little nubs, tingling, the tingling was everywhere. She rubbed her arms, then groaned again. Her skin was sensitive everywhere too. Something was definitely wrong. She hurt, no, not hurt—she didn’t know what it was, but it was rushing through her in waves and culminating in her groin.
Unconsciously Katherine fell back on the bed, squirming restlessly. She was sick. She must be sick. The food. And then she realized, suddenly, horribly, that something must have been put in the food.
“Oh, God, what have they done to me?”
But they couldn’t have wanted her to be sick. She must be having a bad reaction to whatever drug they had given her. It was almost funny. For her to be consumed with fever certainly couldn’t be the effect they wanted to produce. But what else could be making her so hot and so furiously restless, so much so that she couldn’t seem to control the movements of her own body?
She curled up on the bed in a moment of frightful despair. The sheet was cool against her burning skin. She stretched out on her stomach, and for a few blessed moments she felt some relief. A pleasant lassitude enveloped her, and she started to hope the crisis was over—but it didn’t last. She could feel hot surges of sensation beginning again, building in strength, and an insistent throbbing in her groin, an ache.Oh, God!
She twisted over onto her back in the middle of the bed, her arms thrown out at her sides. Her head tossed back and forth, her breath came in little gasps. She was losing control completely, her body arching, twisting, thrusting, and she didn’t even realize she was doing it. She had no conception of time. Her nudity, the situation she was in, all were forgotten in the raging fever consuming her.
Twenty minutes later, when Prince Alexandrov entered the room, Katherine was beyond thinking about anything except the burning heat in her body. She didn’t hear him come in. She didn’t know he stood watching her, dark, velvet eyes fascinated by her every movement.
Dimitri had been arrested by the erotic picture she presented. Her body, undulating and arching, gyrating on the bed, seemed in the throes of sexual passion. He had always been aware of these motions in his more passionate bed partners, had felt such movements under him, delighted in them, but never had he observed them from a distance. The scene was immediately effective. He could feel his manhood springing to life beneath the loose robe that was all he wore.
Whathadthis little English rose been doing to herself to bring about this feverish pitch of excitement? What a surprise she was! And here he had been regretting all evening the impulse that had sent Vladimir after her. After all, there was really nothing about her to arouse his passion. So he had thought until now.
When Katherine finally became aware of his presence, he was standing at the foot of the bed, leaning casually against the bedpost.
That picture… Adonis come to life. Impossible. He couldn’t be real—she was delirious. But no, this was flesh and blood.
“Help me. I—I need—” Her throat was so parched from the heat that she could barely get the words out. She ran her tongue slowly over her lips. “A doctor.”
Dimitri’s half-smile turned to a frown. He had been shocked when he finally looked into her eyes. Another surprise. Such color, and smoldering with passion. He had been so certain she had meant to say she needed him. A doctor!
“You are—ill?”
“Yes…a fever. I’m so hot.”
His frown turned into a black scowl. Sick! Damnation! And after she had made him want her.
Unreasonable anger shot through him. He started for the door. He would have Vladimir’s head for this. Her voice stopped him.
“Please…water.”
The pathetic plea stirred his compassion for some reason. Ordinarily he would have left her in the care of his servants. But he was at hand, and to give her water would take only a moment. It wasn’t her fault that she was ill. Vladimir should have informed him before he had come to her. She should have been taken to a doctor immediately.
He didn’t consider the possibility of contagion and that getting near her might postpone his sailing tomorrow. He poured the water and lifted her head to bring the glass to her lips. She took a few sips, and her cheek turned toward his wrist and rubbed against it. Then her whole body turned toward him, as if drawn by the contact.
He let go of her, but she groaned at the loss of his cool skin. “No…so hot…please.”
She was trembling. With cold? he wondered. Her cheek hadn’t been hot. He put his hand to her forehead; it was cool. Yet she acted as though she was burning with fever. What kind of sickness was this? And damned if he still didn’t want her!
His anger returned and he slammed out of the room, bellowing for Vladimir. The servant appeared instantly.
“My prince?”
Dimitri had never struck a servant in anger. To do so would have been the height of unfairness, because his servants belonged to him. They could not retaliate, could not leave his employ, could do nothing to protect themselves. But his present frustration nearly made him lose sight of all that.
“Damn you, Vladimir, the woman is sick! How could you not know it?”
Vladimir had anticipated this, had known he would have to explain. But better now that the dose had taken effect than earlier, when he would have had to admit to failure.
“She is not sick,” he said quickly. “She was given cantharides in her food.”
Dimitri stepped back in amazement. Why had he not realized himself what ailed the woman? He had seen a woman given that powerful aphrodisiac before, during the year he had spent in the Caucasus. She had been insatiable. Fifteen soldiers hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. She still demanded more, and the effect had lasted for hours.
Dimitri was disgusted, knowing that he alone wouldn’t be able to take care of the woman, that he would probably have to call his guards to help relieve her suffering, and suffering it was. She was burning to have a man between her legs, aching with need. But despite his disgust, his manhood throbbed in anticipation. She wasn’t sick. He would have her, and she would beg for more. A unique situation that produced all manner of pleasurable thoughts.
