“Blast you, you will turn this ship around and return me to London! I insist—no, Idemandthat you do it immediately!”
Dimitri stood up slowly, forcing Katherine to crane her neck to keep eye contact. He fingered his cheek absently as he continued to look at her, and then suddenly, a glint of humor appeared in his dark eyes.
“She makes demands of me, Vladimir,” Dimitri said without looking at the servant.
Tension drained out of the older man upon hearing the amused tone. “Yes, my prince,” he sighed.
A single glance over his shoulder. “An earl’s daughter, you said?”
“So she claims.”
Those velvety brown eyes slid back to Katherine, and she found that even in her fury she could blush, for they came to rest not on her face but on her opened bodice, which she had forgotten about until now. And if that audacity was not enough, they moved down her slowly, stopping finally to admire her stocking-clad legs, which she had also forgotten about.
With a gasp, she shoved her skirt down and then began to fumble with the row of buttons lining the front of the dress. For her modesty she gained a deep chuckle from the man standing only a foot in front of her.
“Scoundrel!” she hissed, not looking up until the last button closed at her throat. “You have the manners of a guttersnipe who knows no better than to gawk, but then that shouldn’t surprise me in the least, since your morals are equally decadent.”
Vladimir’s eyes rose to the ceiling. Maksim hadn’t recovered from his first shock when he was shaken again by these words. But Dimitri was only further amused.
“I must commend you, Katya,” he finally said to her. “Your talent is remarkable.”
She was momentarily thrown off guard. “Talent?”
“Of course. Tell me, did you have to work at it, or does this ability come naturally to you?”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you are insinuating—”
“Not insinuating,” Dimitri cut in with a smile. “I applaud you. You mimic your betters to perfection. Was it a part you played on the stage? That would explain—”
“Stop it!” Katherine cried, jumping to her feet, her cheeks hot with understanding.
But standing next to him unfortunately put her at a distinct disadvantage. This was the first time she had done so, and it was intimidating in the extreme. He was so tall compared to her small height that she felt ridiculous. The top of her head just barely reached his shoulders.
Katherine stepped hastily to the side until she was well out of his reach, then swung around so fast that her hair flew out in a wide arc. At this safe distance, she gathered her dignity about her. Squaring her shoulders, her chin thrust forward, she gave the Prince a look of utter disdain. And yet she had lost some of her fury. He hadn’t been mocking her. He had been sincere in his appreciation of her “talent,” and that frightened her.
She hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t believe her. She had given way to her temper because she had never doubted for a moment that once he knew who she was, he would fall all over himself to make amends. That wasn’t happening. He thought she was putting on a performance and he was amused by it. Good Lord, an actress! The closest she had ever come to one was in her father’s box at the theater.
“Dismiss your lackeys, Alexandrov.” On second thought, realizing that she couldn’t afford to antagonize him, she amended herself: “PrinceAlexandrov.” The blasted man held all the cards, and although that was utterly galling, she knew how to be flexible—to a degree.
That she had issued an order didn’t occur to her. It did to Dimitri. His brow rose sharply for the breath of a second, then smoothed out, intrigued.
With the wave of a hand he dismissed the two men standing behind him, but he didn’t speak until he heard the door close. “Well, my dear?”
“It’s Lady Katherine St. John.”
“Yes, that would fit,” he replied thoughtfully. “I recall meeting a St. John on one of my visits to England many years ago. The Earl of—of—Stafford, was it? No, Strafford. Yes, the Earl of Strafford, very active in reform, very much in the public eye.”
The last was said with meaning, insinuating that anyone in England would know the name. Katherine gritted her teeth, but that he had met her father gave her hope.
“In what capacity did you meet the Earl? I can likely describe the setting as well as you, if not better, since I am acquainted with all of my father’s friends and their homes.”
He smiled tolerantly. “Then describe to me the Duke of Albemarle’s country estate.”
Katherine winced. Hewouldhave to name someone she had never met. “I don’t know the Duke, but I have heard—”
“Of course you have, my dear. He is also much in the public eye.”
His attitude rubbed her raw. “Look you, I am who I say I am. Why won’t you believe me? Did I doubt that you’re a prince? Which by the way does not impress me, since I’m not ignorant of the Russian hierarchy.”
