Dimitri chuckled. He had only sensed it before, but now she had come right out and stated it: that she found him singularly lacking. He should be piqued, and yet it did so suit this role she was playing. He had known at first sight that he would find her amusing, but he had never guessed she would be this full of surprises.
“So tell me then what great truths you know, Katya.”
She knew that he was only humoring her, yet she had to get her point across. “All you Russian nobles carry the same title, though the old aristocracy does rank higher than the new, or so I’ve been told. Very democratic, really, and yet the truth is a prince in Russia is merely the equivalent of an English duke or earl or marquis.”
“I’m not quite sure I approve of ‘merely,’ but what is your point?”
“We are equals,” she said emphatically.
Dimitri grinned. “Are we? Yes, I can think of one instance when we might be.” His eyes slid over her body to leave her in little doubt of what he referred to.
Katherine clenched her fists desperately. To be reminded of what had passed between them last night was disarming. Her anger had been focused on his arrogance and condescension, not on the actual man standing before her. Until this moment, her enraged emotions had kept her from being aware of him as anything except an object of her scorn. But now his presence shook her as it had this morning.
She noticed for the first time his dress, or lack of it. He wore only a short velvet lounging robe belted over a pair of loose white trousers. His feet were bare. His chest, revealed by the open neck of the emerald robe, was also bare. The golden waves of his hair, rather long in this day of shorter styles, was tousled as if he had just come from his bed. His casual attire indicated the same.
Any retort Katherine might have made to his last statement was forgotten in the realization of where she must be: his bedchamber. She hadn’t looked at her surroundings. Since she had opened her eyes she had looked only at Dimitri. She didn’t dare look around now either, fearing the sight of a rumpled bed would be her undoing. He had ordered her broughthere. And ninny that she was,shehad insisted they be left alone for this important confrontation.
Her previous dilemma was overridden by this new one. He had wanted her here and it could be for only one reason. He had been humoring her all along, using charm and subtle insinuation instead of force. But force would come next, and she knew she wouldn’t have a chance. Just looking at his size made her feel weak and helpless.
So many alarming thoughts converging on her at once made Katherine overlook the fact that she was on a ship, and that this cabin must serve all of Dimitri’s needs, pleasure as well as business. But fortunately, that bit of knowledge wasn’t needful at the moment, for she was saved from finding out what might have happened next when the door opened and a swirl of bright fuchsia taffeta glided into the room.
The tall, golden-haired young woman was beautiful. Stunning would be a better word, at least for Katherine, who was in fact stunned to see this vision in such dramatic colors appear so suddenly. But the woman’s unannounced entrance accomplished two things, for which Katherine was exceedingly grateful. She drew Katherine’s eyes away from Dimitri at last, so that her mind could return to its normal logical processes. And she likewise claimed Dimitri’s full attention.
She had spoken the moment the door opened, in a clear though petulant tone. “Mitya, I have waited hours while you sleep the day away, but I will wait…no…longer.” The last two words fell slowly as she halted, finally seeing that he was not alone. She dismissed Katherine with a glance, but her whole demeanor changed when she saw Dimitri’s annoyance as he rounded on her. “I’m sorry,” she offered quickly. “I didn’t realize you were conducting business.”
“Which is beside the point,” Dimitri said sharply. “It is no wonder the Duchess washed her hands of you, Anastasia, if this lack of manners is another of the new faults you have recently acquired.”
The woman’s manner changed again, becoming defensive at this set-down in front of a stranger. “It is important, or I wouldn’t—”
“I don’t care if the ship is afire! In future you will obtain permission before you disturb me, no matter the hour, no matter the reason!”
Katherine, viewing this autocratic display of temper, was almost amused. Here was a man who had let nothing else disturb him, not even her slap, which had been as forceful as she could make it, now blustering over a minor interruption. But then she had met Russians at court and had also heard numerous stories from the English ambassador to Russia, who was a close friend of the Earl’s and knew Russians to be inherently volatile, with quick changes of temperament and mood.
Until now, the Prince had shown no tendency toward such a variable disposition. At least this display of temper was comforting in that it was more what Katherine might have expected from a Russian. Predictability was always easier to deal with.
Quickly assessing her options, Katherine decided to gamble. Assuming a subservient manner that was alien to her, she jumped into what was on its way to being a heated exchange, if the woman’s now-angry expression was any indication.
“My lord, I don’t mind waiting while you attend the lady. I’ll just step outside—”
“Stay where you are, Katherine,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Anastasia is leaving.”
Two commands, one for each of them. But neither woman had any intention of obeying without a fight.
“You will not put me off, Mitya,” Anastasia insisted, stomping her foot to make sure he noted how upset she was. “One of my maids is missing! The little bitch has run away!”
Before Dimitri could respond to this, Katherine, moving slowly but steadily around him and toward the door, said firmly, “My business can wait, my lord.” Mistakenly she added, “If someone has fallen overboard—”
“Nonsense,” Anastasia cut in, not even acknowledging Katherine’s assistance. “The sly creature slipped off the ship before we sailed. She was deathly ill on the voyage to England, just as my Zora was. She simply didn’t want to sail again. But I refuse to give her up, Mitya. She belongs to me. I want her back.”
“You expect me to turn this ship around for a serf, when you know I have offered them all their freedom any time they want it? Don’t be a fool, Anastasia. You will have any one of a hundred women to replace her.”
“But not here and now. What am I to do now, with Zora sick?”
“One of my servants will have to suffice, don’t you agree?” The question was in fact an order.
Anastasia knew that was the end of it; he wouldn’t change his mind. She hadn’t really expected him to turn the ship around. She had simply needed an excuse to vent some of her frustration with this forced voyage on him, to make him a little more sympathetic to her feelings, and the runaway maid gave her that excuse.
“You are cruel, Mitya. My maids are well trained. Your servants would not know the first thing about being lady’s maids. They only know how to serve you.”
