He ushered her inside a huge mansion, where they turned their furs over to a waiting footman, then mounted an ornate double staircase to the ballroom upstairs. If there had been a reception line, it had been dispensed with by this hour. Their hosts were the first to greet them, stopping them just inside the wide doorway, and as Dimitri had warned, he introduced her as Katherine St. John.
Katherine was impressed when she got a moment to look around. The room was tremendously large, an actual ballroom rather than several rooms converted into one, and a half-dozen chandeliers created a dazzling display of light, reflecting on what surely must have been several million rubles’ worth of jewelry. Out of some two hundred guests, half were dancing, others gathered about the sides of the room, talking in groups or pairs, or wandering to and from the refreshment tables set up at the end of the long room.
A liveried servant came by with a tray of drinks, but Katherine declined for now. Dimitri took one and drained it, setting the empty glass back on the tray. Katherine couldn’t help smiling.
“Nervous, Dimitri?”
“What could I possibly be nervous about?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that I might embarrass you here among your friends. After all, what could a simple peasant possibly know about comporting herself in such august company? Dress her up in a pretty gown, but she is still just a peasant, right?”
He didn’t know what to make of her mood. She wasn’t angry. Her expression was lit with humor. But her teasing was drawing blood nonetheless.
“Mitya, why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight? I would have—oh, am I interrupting?”
“No, Vasya, nothing that can’t wait until later,” Dimitri replied with relief. “Katherine, may I present Prince Vasili Dashkov?”
“Katherine?” Vasili gave her a brief glance, then his eyes widened considerably as he turned back to Dimitri. “NottheKatherine! But I was expecting… I mean…” At Dimitri’s scowl, he stopped altogether, flushing.
“You’ve rather put your foot in it, Prince Dashkov, haven’t you?” Katherine said pointedly. “Let me guess. Since Dimitri has obviously told you about me, you were expecting someone with a little more brilliance to her plumage perhaps? But then we can’t all be ravishing beauties, my lord, more’s the pity. Your amazement at Dimitri’s interest in me is no greater than my own, I assure you.”
“Katya, please, you’ll have my friend here cutting out his tongue in a minute to satisfy you. He doesn’t realize you’re teasing him.”
“Nonsense, Dimitri. He knows I’m teasing. He’s just embarrassed for dismissing me at first glance.”
“A mistake I would never make again, dear lady, I swear to God!” Vasili assured her emphatically.
Katherine couldn’t help herself. She laughed delightedly, enchanting Vasili into a new awareness of her. Dimitri was likewise affected by the merry sound. He loved to hear her laughter, even if it did fill him with a warmth that was wholly out of place here.
He drew her near to him, his arm fitting snugly around her waist, and whispered huskily into her ear, “Any more of that, little heart, and you will have me in the predicament I usually find myself in with you—wanting a bed with none near at hand.”
She looked up at Dimitri, surprised to see that he was serious, and blushed so becomingly that he bent to kiss her, uncaring of where they were and who was watching. Vasili’s dry wit stopped him.
“I’m going to save you from making a lovesick fool of yourself, Mitya, by dancing with your lady. That is, if you don’t mind?”
“I do,” Dimitri said tersely.
“But I don’t,” Katherine added, stepping out of Dimitri’s embrace to smile warmly at Vasili. “However, I must warn you that certain people would tell you I can’t possibly knowhowto dance, Prince Dashkov. Are you willing to risk your feet to learn the truth of the matter?”
“With utmost pleasure.”
Vasili drew her onto the dance floor before Dimitri could protest again. He stared after them, unaware that he was scowling, making every effort not to go after Katherine and yank her back to his side, as was his first inclination. It was only Vasili, he had to remind himself. Vasili wouldn’t make any advances toward her, knowing how Dimitri felt about her. But he didn’t like seeing another man’s hands on her, even his friend’s.
Ten minutes later, when Vasili returned alone, Dimitri exploded. “What the devil do you mean you turned her over to Aleksandr?”
“Easy, Mitya,” Vasili said, taken aback. “You saw that he cornered us before we left the floor. What could I do when she agreed to another dance?”
“You could have damn well warned him off.”
“He’s harmless, and—” Vasili had to jerk Dimitri around when he started for the dance floor. He pulled him to the side, away from curious ears. “Are you mad? You would cause a scene just because she’s dancing and enjoying herself? For God’s sake, Mitya, what’s wrong with you?”
Dimitri stared hard at Vasili, then let his breath out slowly. “You’re right. I—oh, hell, lovesick was putting it rather mildly.” He smiled in apology.
“Haven’t you won her yet?”
“Why? You think that will lessen this obsession? I assure you it won’t.”
“Then what you need, my friend, is a distraction. Natalia is here, if you haven’t noticed.”
