Читать книгу Christmas Wishes Part 1 - Линн Грэхем, Elizabeth Rolls - Страница 25

Chapter Six

The next day came far too quickly. After the events of the Christmas Eve ball, the palace had been buzzing with gossip. Some pitied Ekaterina’s fate while others sniffed and basked in her misfortune. But all were excitedly guessing at which suitor she would choose.

All, that was, except for Andrey.

Andrey had spent most of the night pacing, his mind awhirl. After Empress Anna’s announcement he hadn’t been permitted a moment alone with Ekaterina. Instead, he had been rudely ushered from the hall as his mentor, Rastrelli, had erupted in panicked appeal. His last stolen glance had been of Ekaterina’s pale, stone-faced expression as she surveyed her potential husbands.

Now, finally released from his suite by the Empress’s personal guard, he walked briskly into the reception hall of the palace, where a Christmas Day luncheon was being served. But as he strode into the room he was nearly shoved out of the way by a burly nobleman, barrelling past. He blinked, surprised. It was Count Vitaly—and he was as red as a ripe tomato and swearing profusely.

Frowning, Andrey entered the grand hall and was greeted by the hushed whispers of the Winter Court. He glanced up at the royal dais. The Empress was beet-red and glowering down...at Ekaterina.

But when he peered at Ekaterina through the throng of milling nobles, his frown only deepened. She was not her usual serious, serene self. No, the young woman was tittering and giggling behind a gold-feathered fan as she openly flirted with her two remaining suitors, Captain Boris Zukov and Igor of the North.

Andrey circled the edges of the ballroom, studying the strange, sly smile that lifted the corners of her ruby-red lips. Her lusty allure was on full display as she laid her fingers on Captain Zukov’s arm while tiptoeing to whisper something in Igor’s ear. The men were captivated by her...except when they paused to glare at each other over her head.

* * *

Ekaterina caught a glimpse of Andrey’s stormy face from the corner of her eye. But she had neither the time nor the opportunity to reassure him of her true intentions. No, manipulating these boors into abandoning their suit was taking all of her energy...and she was nearing exhaustion.

She had already managed to turn them against each other by courting them all simultaneously and then stepping back as they traded insults and threats while vying for her attention. She hid a smile behind her fan. Count Vitaly had already stormed away, cursing and muttering that she was not worth the trouble. And now the remaining two were at each other’s throats.

Ekaterina eyed the squabbling men above her. Yes, it might take the better part of the day, but she could finagle her way out of this marriage business yet. All she had to do was make her suitors leave of their own volition. That would buy her enough time to escape her aunt’s devious plans.

But Andrey...

She could no longer find him in her peripheral vision. She knew he must think her fickle or mad for shamelessly using her feminine wiles to court disaster. She was sure he did not understand what she was trying to do. She sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to outmanoeuvring her aunt.

* * *

In fact, Andrey wasn’t even in the hall anymore. After seeing Ekaterina giggling at one of Boris’s jokes and gasping in delight when Igor stroked her cheek, he’d found he could take no more. He’d marched out, heading straight for his workshop, which was abandoned for the day’s festivities.

For the next few hours he lost himself in woodcarving. He started out by hacking aimlessly at a chunk of wood. By the time he had worked out most of his frustration, his shirt was soaked in sweat. He pulled the clinging material from his body and tossed it away. Then he began to chisel away at the wood with more purpose and less anger, letting the monotony of the work distract him.

So engrossed was he with his work that he almost missed the soft sound of a woman clearing her throat. He looked up, surprised.

‘I thought I might find you here,’ Ekaterina said softly as she stepped into his haven.

Andrey looked down, returning to his work.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked gruffly.

‘Don’t be cross with me,’ she said as she made her way over to his workbench. ‘I only did what I had to.’

His answering laugh was a sharp, bitter bark.

‘And did you choose a suitable husband?’

He waited for her reply, his eyes locked on to his wooden carving. But she said nothing, and the only sounds in the room were those of his chisel and hammer.

‘Well?’

‘Oh, Andrey.’

He paused midstroke. He felt her step up behind him and place one dainty hand on his shoulder.

‘Well?’ he asked again, his voice strained.

‘Please look at me,’ she said softly, stepping so close that he could feel her warmth against his back.

‘I can’t.’

‘You don’t understand,’ she said, pressing up against him and smoothing her hands over his ribs.

‘Then explain it to me.’

‘I’m not marrying any of them.’

He paused and turned to face her.

‘What?’

She looked up, her blue eyes wide and sincere.

‘My aunt will be furious,’ she continued. ‘But none of those men will be my husband.’

‘How is that possible?’ Andrey asked with a frown.

She smiled.

‘Because I chased them away. Igor managed to threaten the other two, and then I convinced Igor that I just wasn’t worth the effort. He wasn’t interested in marrying me once I let him believe that I don’t stand to inherit much of anything from my father. Of course the fools had no idea that they’d been tricked.’

‘So all that flirting...’

‘A farce, Andrey.’

Andrey lowered his head, touching his forehead to hers in relief. He’d underestimated her once again, and guilt flooded him.

‘Did you think me so fickle?’ she chided, clicking her tongue.

‘I am a fool among fools,’ Andrey admitted hoarsely.

She cupped his cheeks, her eyes meeting his earnestly. A sweet smile graced her lips.

‘We were both cornered by my aunt,’ she said, feathering kisses over the bridge of his nose. ‘I had so very few choices. And there was no time to explain.’

He kissed her. It was a long, languorous kiss that was sweet with the slide of lips and tongue. Ekaterina pulled away first, and Andrey groaned.

‘Andrey,’ she breathed, her eyes searching his. ‘My Andrey. I still don’t know what will happen to us. My aunt will probably send me away, and I am not sure if I can save you from Siberia.’

She pressed closer to him, her fingers tangling in his hair. ‘I will do my best, but...’ She paused, her eyes welling with tears. ‘But I’m not sure if we will be able to be together again.’

Andrey planted kisses over her eyes, his rough fingers drawing her close.

‘Then let us make the most of the time we have left.’

His next kiss was hungry and demanding, as if he wanted to capture her and devour her whole. She responded with a low, throaty moan. When Ekaterina lifted her slim arms to twine them around his neck, her lips hot and wet against his, Andrey reached for the laces of her corset. With a few sharp tugs he pulled the bodice apart and let it drop to the floor in a bloom of dust. He spun her around suddenly, his hands sliding greedily over her bare skin.

Ekaterina let her head drop back, and Andrey laved her neck with his tongue. Her breaths came in quick, almost anguished pants as a delectable, unquenchable heat climbed her belly. Andrey grabbed at her skirt, his hands disappearing to smooth up her thighs.

‘Andrey,’ she begged, her breathing hitching in her throat.

Grunting, Andrey gently bent her over his workbench, his hands guiding hers into grabbing hold of the sculpture he’d just been working on. Hooking one arm around her waist, he pulled impatiently at his trousers. Then he pushed up her skirts and hiked them over her hips. Pressing his hot, throbbing member to her bottom, he leaned over her prone form and put his lips to her ear.

‘Are you ready?’ Andrey asked, his breath hot and ragged on the shell of her ear.

Ekaterina responded by grinding her hips against his and arching her back under his palm. Andrey gripped her hips with his hands and slowly pushed himself into her, his body shuddering with the exquisite sensation of her clenching around him. As he withdrew and thrust anew, Ekaterina’s back arched and her fingers tightened around the carving. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the dusty workshop, punctuated by their cries of pleasure.

For Andrey, it was a fantasy brought to life to have the woman of his dreams bent over his worktable, writhing beneath his pulsing rhythm and crying out his name in rapture. He planted a line of kisses down the line of her spine, grinning as she shivered. His hands moulded to her pert breasts and he rubbed her aching nipples with his callused thumbs.

Then, to his surprise, Ekaterina pulled away and his shaft bobbed free. Andrey growled in frustration, but Ekaterina simply turned around with a brazen smirk. With two deft tugs, her voluminous skirts slid down her slender hips to pool at the floor around her feet. Running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, she backed up and perched her bottom on the edge of Andrey’s worktable. Arching one brow, and with a saucy tilt to her chin, she gracefully crossed one leg over her knee.

Andrey swallowed the lump in his throat as he grew impossibly harder. He leaned over her, planting his hands on either side of her hips.

‘I think your legs are in the wrong position, Ekaterina,’ he purred wickedly.

‘Oh?’ she teased playfully. ‘And how do you think I should be sitting?’

‘Let me show you.’

Andrey smoothed his hands up her shapely calves, hooking his fingers under her knees. With a sharp jerk, he pulled her legs apart and pressed his hips to her core.

‘Oh,’ she breathed, twisting her ankles around his waist.

‘I will make you remember me,’ he promised in low, determined tones.

Andrey grinned and leaned her back against the dusty table, sliding his open palm from her jaw to her breast. With a flash of teeth he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt. Ekaterina arched off the surface but Andrey pinned her hips down, relentlessly thrusting. He leaned over her, and she dug her fingers into his muscular shoulder blades. She inhaled the heady musk of his sweat, with the chalky scent of sawdust a pleasant undertone. She scraped her teeth over his neck, relishing the salt on his skin.

Then he angled his hips just so and her world exploded in white spots. For an endless moment there was nothing but sweat, skin and the rasp of their breathing. And then he gave a primal cry, filling her with a violent shudder.

Andrey buried his face in her bosom, panting and murmuring her name. She gathered him closer, her fingers tangling in his thick locks. They stayed locked in that embrace for as long as they could, each passing moment more precious than the one before. When finally they separated, they dressed slowly and reluctantly. They did not know what the evening would bring.

Right before they parted, Andrey gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. His eyes met hers.

‘Until we meet again, my lady.’