A Sister's Quest (10 page)

The outer door opened behind him. Rusak's expression showed his abhorrence at seeing Alexei standing so close to her. Looking away, he carried her small trunk past the arch.

Michelle watched him, wide-eyed. Rusak's familiarity with the apartment warned that this was not the first time the men had stayed here. She wondered who had shared it with them in the past.

No, she would not even think that. What did she care about Alexei's past? If it had not touched hers, she would not be here now, and her life would not be all ajumble.

Fatigue deepened Alexei's voice as he motioned toward the arch. “Lead the way, so I will not find a knife protruding from my back.”

“Alexei, I—”

“Just go. The second door is your room.”

“My own room?” The words slipped out. After all the nights of sharing a room on the way here, the thought of being able to have privacy was delightful.

“Is that dismay I hear in your voice?” he asked as they walked down a broad hallway. A lamp had been lit, and it illuminated the paintings hanging along the walls like a gallery. His quick pace gave her no chance to admire the landscapes.

“Hardly, for I cannot wait to be alone. I do hope the door has a lock.”

“The one to the hall,” he said as he opened the first door.

“I thought you said my door was the second one.”

He smiled and, taking her arm, drew her into a room. A gasp of amazement erupted from her. She had never seen such a magnificent bedchamber. A tester bed stretched toward the ceiling, its cloth of gold curtains shadowing its breadth. Chairs and settees as fancy as the ones in the front room flanked the white stone fireplace. To one side a desk was topped by leather.

“This,
Liebchen
, is my room.” He reached for another door. “And this is the door that does not have a lock.”

When he ushered her into another room, Michelle shivered. A mistress would never deny her lover access to her private room. Another bed, this one smaller but still taking up half the room's floor, was set by a mahogany armoire. The door hung open to reveal that it was lined with a brocade that matched the bedcurtains.

Alexei placed her bag on the chair in front of a dressing table, but Michelle's gaze went to a tub filled with steaming water. Her delight must have been emblazoned on her face, because Alexei began to laugh.

“You should bathe before the water gets cold,” he said, coming to stand behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders as he drew her back a half step to lean against him.

“Yes.” The idea of a bath was as heady as an opiate; yet she did not move. Being against him like this was even more heavenly, especially when she did not have to look at the devilish twinkle in his eyes. “But how did it get here?”

“Didn't you see me speak to that lad when we stopped to change horses at the edge of the city?”

“He was a lanky lad, nearly as tall as a man.”

“I should have guessed you would not miss that.” He brushed hair back from her forehead. “Your dark eyes seldom miss anything. I sent the lad ahead with a message for our landlord to prepare a fire on each hearth, to have oil in the lamps, and to get this ready for you,
Liebchen
.”

“Thank you for thinking of the one thing I want right now more than anything else.”

His hand on her elbow wrapped her arm around her with his over it. Sifting his other hand up through her hair, he plucked out the pins. He caught the strands that fell over his fingers. “How simple your desires are! To want things within your grasp must be wonderful.”

“And what do you want?”

“Other than you?” He lifted her hair and kissed her nape.

She put her other hand over his on her arm as she closed her eyes, delighting in the sweet sensations quivering deep within her while his fingertip roved along the modest neckline of her gown. “Yes.”

“I am not sure.” There was a tinge of regret in his voice. “Why do you ask me questions no one else has?”

“I don't know.” That was a lie. She knew exactly why she asked. She longed to discover an answer to even one of the puzzles that made up this paradoxical man.

“No? I thought you might be spying on me.”

“Are you that interesting, Alexei?” Her words ended in a soft gasp as his caress brushed the curves above her gown.

He turned her, enfolding her to him. His legs pressed against hers as she raised her arms around his shoulders. “I could be interesting. For you, I could be,
Liebchen
. I—Dammit!” He stepped away and motioned toward the tub. “You should take your bath, Michelle, before the water gets cold.”

Michelle stared after him as he went back into his own room, closing the door behind him. She did not hesitate. Lifting her bag off the chair, she jammed the chair under the knob so the door would not open. Sitting on the bed, she stared at the door. She was more certain than ever that she would never understand Alexei Vatutin, and more uncertain than ever why she wanted to.

Alexei clamped his pipe between his teeth and scowled at the chair that was meant to keep him out of Michelle's room. Then he chuckled. She was learning, albeit not the lessons he would like to teach her.

Verflucht!
He did not need to be thinking about her when he should be considering his next move. There were a few people who must already know he was back in Vienna. They would be making plans, so he must, too. If he could just banish Michelle from his mind …

Hearing a sound behind him, he turned. His smile returned when he saw Rusak in the doorway.

“Where is Michelle?” Alexei asked.

Rusak gestured toward his left.

“In the kitchen?”

He nodded.

Alexei chuckled. “Whatever she is cooking smells wonderful. I hope she is making enough for three.”

Rusak's lips pursed in a scowl.

“Eat it or not, as you wish.” Alexei shrugged. “I had thought, by now, you would see the good sense of having her here. If we had left her in Zurich, everything might be ruined.”

He drew his finger across his throat.

“Very funny, unless you are talking about
our
throats, which will be slit in no time if LaTulippe finds out I have double-crossed him.”

At the sound of footsteps, Rusak walked in the opposite direction.

Alexei chuckled as he set his pipe on the dressing table. From one problem to the next.

“What are you doing here?” Michelle said, pausing in the open door. She held a bowl from which came enticing aromas of pepper and basil.

He had seen her in her nightgown and wrapper before, but the sight of her standing in the doorway, wisps of her hair floating around her face as they teased his fingers to touch them, was enchanting. Every inch of him demanded that he pull her into his arms and loosen those buttons on her wrapper as he drew her nightgown up along her legs. Her legs … He gulped. That habit she had of sleeping with one leg slipped out from beneath the covers had given him an enticing view of it and added to the maddening need to run his fingers along its slender length. Up over her ankle, along her calf, to her knee, to her thigh, then … He cursed silently. How much could he be expected to endure, even for the love of his homeland?

“Alexei, what are you doing here?” Michelle's voice was sharp with impatience, and he wondered how long he had been lost in the thought of wrapping those pretty legs around him in her bed.

“Waiting for you.”
Good!
His voice was even. He pointed toward her bag and trunk. “I have been playing your maid while you made supper.” He plucked the bowl from her hands. “Is this mine?”

“I think not!” She took it and set it on the table. Her eyes widened when she saw his pipe there.

“You have no gratitude for what a good lady's maid I have been. After I removed your tub, I turned down your bed to take away the chill and put your things in the armoire.”

“You unpacked—You dared to—”

“You are welcome, if you are attempting to thank me.” He dipped a finger in the soup and, with a yelp, waved it in the air. “
Verflucht!
That is hot!”

“What did you expect?”

Tasting the soup on his scalded finger, he smiled. “And delicious,
Liebchen
. Is there more?”

“In the kitchen.” She pointed to the door, then frowned. “I locked the door!”

“Yes, you did.” He pulled the chair away from the connecting door. “I had to unlock it because you put this in the way.”

“There are two keys?”

“No.”

“But you are in here!”

He smiled and tapped her cheek. “
Liebchen
, you should have guessed that I have encountered other locked doors before tonight.”

“Ah, the famous spy.”

Laughing, he said, “Those two words should never go together. Many of the locked doors I have encountered were locked again without anyone else being the wiser.”

Her eyes snapped with dark fire when she folded her arms in front of her. “This, you told me, would be my room. If you want to come in, you must knock like anyone else.”

“Anyone else? Who else are you expecting to give you a look-in at your bedroom door?”

“Don't try to confuse the issue.” She pointed to the door. “It is unlocked now, and I suggest you make use of that fact.”

His arm swept around her. He gave her his most wicked smile, but the fury in her eyes did not dim. “Michelle—”

“If you will not leave …” She put her hands on his arms and tried to shove them away. Her words were spat through her clenched teeth. “I will leave, then.”

“Not until you listen to me.” Putting his mouth near her ear, he whispered, “If you keep squirming so enticingly against me, I shall not be leaving until you do far more than listen.”

“You would not dare!”

He was tempted to tell her that she was the one who was daring. If she had guessed the course of his thoughts, she would have turned and fled. His fingers splayed across her back, pressing her in her soft garments even closer.

“'Tis your good fortune,
Liebchen
,” he said, holding her gaze, “that you are right. At least, tonight.” When he released her, she took only a step away before he cupped her elbow again.

She glanced at him. “Count Vatutin, are you going to paw me all night?” A flush climbed her cheeks as he laughed.

He relinquished her arm. “Oh, Michelle, you make it so difficult to remain angry when you act like a child. And, like a child, you must have your lessons repeated to you often before you remember them.” He leaned forward. “Do not forget this again,
Liebchen
. I shall go anywhere I please in this apartment. You must accustom yourself to that.”

“I do not think I can.”

“You will.”

She turned away, but he could see her face in the mirror. Her anger was gone. Dismay had replaced it. She closed her eyes, then opened them to meet his gaze. “Do not forget
this
again, my lord: I am your employee, not your mistress. I will pretend to be your mistress in public, but I insist on privacy in this room.”

“
Brava
.” He clapped his hands. “What a performance! I cannot wait to unleash you on the unsuspecting delegates. They will never guess that such a cold lady is, in actuality, a schoolteacher.”

Michelle pointed to the connecting door. “Will you please leave? I want to eat my soup.”

“Can I hope you made enough for Rusak and me?”

“Yes.”

In spite of himself, Alexei was amazed. “You did?”

“If you did not spend all your time picking locks and being where you should not be, you might have come to the kitchen to see that.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Will you please leave? I am tired of your trickery and lies.”

“Lies?
Liebchen
, do you think I am lying to you?”

“Of course.”

With a shrug, he reached for the door latch. “And, of course, you are correct.” He opened the connecting door, then paused. “You are correct about everything but one small fact.”

“What is that?”

He gave her the grin that always raised her color. “
Liebchen
, I was honest that I would like to stay here and have you in my arms all night long.”

With a cry, she whipped her pillow off the bed and flung it at him. He ducked, and it sailed into his room. Picking it up, he turned to hand it back to her. The door slammed so hard that the wood vibrated.

He tossed the pillow into the air. Catching it, he threw it onto his bed. This was, without question, going to be his most interesting visit ever to Vienna.

Chapter Seven

Alexei regarded Michelle over his coffee cup. As he lowered it to the table, he stated, “It is clear that the first thing we have to do is obtain you some decent clothes.”

“Decent?” Her hand reached toward the neckline of her gown. It was properly modest.

Laughing, he said, “Let me rephrase that. We must obtain you some clothes that fit with your new life as the mistress of a member of the Russian delegation. No man would be attracted to your funereal feathers.”

Her eyes snapped with outrage. It took every ounce of her willpower to hold on to her serenity. “I can understand that you do not want to be seen with a decent woman on your arm. Think what it would do to your reputation! It would be ghastly to—”

He laughed again. “You make it difficult to do anything nice for you.” He stood and picked up his cup. Draining it, he set it back on its saucer. “How long will it take you to get ready to go to the modiste's shop?”

“I am ready now,” she said primly as she rose. Placing her napkin on the table, she added, “I have no interest in inciting another of your Russian temper tantrums, Count Vatutin.”

“You should always call me Alexei here, even when you are having one of your
Swiss
temper tantrums.”

She went to the glass over the sideboard. The dining room was situated next to the parlor and overlooked a small courtyard at the back of the house. As she patted her hair into place, she said, “I have told you I shall do my utmost to convince everyone I am your mistress, intent on satisfying your every need. I shall keep my private feelings hidden.”