Katherine followed his nod and grimaced, seeing the trunk she knew so intimately. “How did you guess I was sentimental?”
He couldn’t help himself. He smiled at such blatant sarcasm. But she didn’t notice. She was still staring at the trunk.
And now for the last of his immediate duty. “Lida will help you change since there isn’t much time. The Prince is expecting you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Katherine turned to him, her expression bland for the moment. “For what?”
“He has invited you to dine with him.”
“Forget it,” she replied curtly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re not deaf, Kirov. Extend my regrets, if you must. Word it however you like. The answer is unequivocally no.”
“Unacceptable,” he began, but it was as if Marusia were there jabbing him in the ribs. “Very well, we will compromise. Change, go to his cabin, andyoutell him you don’t wish to accept his invitation.”
She calmly shook her head. “You’ve missed my point. I’m not going anywhere near that man.”
With a clear conscience Vladimir could tell Marusia he had tried, but now he smiled with particular pleasure.
Chapter Thirteen
Bathed, shaved, and donned in one of his more elegant formal coats, Dimitri waved Maksim away when he approached with a frilly white cravat. “Not tonight, or she’ll think I’m trying to impress her.”
The valet nodded, but spared a glance for the candlelit table set for two, the gold-rimmed china and sparkling crystal, the champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. And she wasn’t to be impressed? Perhaps not. If she really was an earl’s daughter, and Maksim was inclined to believe she was from what he had seen so far, she would be used to such luxury.
The Prince was another matter though. He was at his best tonight, and not just in looks. It wasn’t often that Maksim saw him like this. Undoubtedly the stimulation of a new challenge, the sexual tension had its effect, but there was something else too that Maksim couldn’t define. He might call it nervousness if he didn’t know better, but mixed with a lighthearted exuberance that had been sorely lacking in the Prince for many years. Whatever it was, it made those dark brown eyes sparkle with anticipation as never before.
She was a lucky woman, this Englishwoman. Even if the seductive atmosphere in the cabin didn’t impress her, the Prince couldn’t fail to.
But when she arrived a few minutes later, Maksim’s opinion changed drastically. He learned quickly what it would take Dimitri longer to learn: never to assume anything about this particular woman.
Vladimir was not escorting her. He delivered her, trussed up and tossed over his shoulder. With a single apologetic look in Dimitri’s direction, he set her down and quickly untied her wrists. That done, she ripped off her gag—the reason Dimitri had had no prior warning of what was going on before this startling arrival. She took only a second to throw the cloth at Vladimir before swinging round to impale Dimitri with the hot fury in her eyes.
“I won’t have it! I won’t!” she screamed. “You tell this churlish brute of yours he is not to lay his hands on me again, or I swear—I swear—”
She stopped, and Dimitri gathered that she was too upset for simple verbal threats as she looked wildly around for some kind of weapon. When her eyes lit on the well-laid table, he leaped forward, unwilling to sacrifice a fortune in crystal and china to this tantrum, not to mention possible wounds, at least not when he didn’t yet know what had caused it.
His arms were as effective as thick ropes, wrapping around her and locking her own arms firmly to her sides. “All right,” he said tightly by her ear. “Calm down and we will unravel this little drama—”
“To my satisfaction,” she hissed.
“If you insist.” He felt her relax then, if only slightly, and looked toward the supposed culprit. “Vladimir?”
“She refused to change her dress or join you, my lord, so Boris and I assisted her.”
Dimitri felt her anger return full force in the straining of her small body against his hold. “They ripped my dress—tore it right off me!”
“You want them flogged?”
Katherine stilled completely. She was staring at Vladimir standing only a few feet away. His expression didn’t change. He was a proud man. But she saw that he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer. He felt fear. She didn’t doubt it. And she took a moment to savor the power Dimitri was unexpectedly giving her.
She envisioned Vladimir tied to a mast, his jacket and shirt stripped away, and she herself holding a whip poised above his naked back. It was not just for his having dressed her as if she were a child and couldn’t do it herself, her arms thrust into tight sleeves, her stockings changed and shoes shoved on her feet. Nor was it for gagging her and tying her up again while her hair was brushed, even while perfume was applied behind her ears. She wielded the whip in her imagination for everything this man had done to her, and he deserved every revengeful stroke.
The picture was nice to contemplate for those few moments, but Katherine wouldn’t order it done, no matter how much she might hate the man. That Dimitri would, however, disturbed her.
“You can let go, Alexandrov,” she said quietly, still staring at Vladimir. “I believe I have my dreadful temper under control now.”
