Page 69 of You Belong to Me
“Come home with me, Alex, now.”
Her eyes flared, not so much because of the unexpected request, but because he had slowly started to move toward her. She started to back away.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to make love to you in a stable.”
“Stop it, Petroff! I was going to apologize. I wouldn’t have lost my temper this afternoon if that woman hadn’t used tears to try and sway you.”
“A common enough ploy, though I suppose it’s not one that you would use, is it?” He was still coming forward.
“Certainly not. But the point is, I was not going to threaten her. I would only have told her she had to leave, which I tried to do—”
“And you ended up threatening her anyway.”
“But that wasn’t my intention! Your ridiculous promise shouldn’t apply!”
“Yet what I saw was what you have repeatedly told me. You don’t want me, but nobody else can have me. Isn’t that about the gist of it?”
If she wasn’t panicking—her back had come up against the wall, and he was nearly upon her—she wouldn’t have gotten angry enough to snap at him. “Exactly! Idon’twant you, but for the time being, you’re mine.”
He was beginning to like the sound of that. “That can go both ways.”
“But it doesn’t.”
“Who says it doesn’t?”
And he leaned into her, holding her there against the wall with his body, his mouth seeking hers, leaving her so little room to avoid it, taking what he could get when she did. And she still nearly lost it.
For long, breathless moments she was overcome by the feel of his hard muscles, his rampant desire, his lips on her cheek, and her own unbridled response. For long moments she savored the feel of him, and those thrilling, wild sensations that only he could inspire. She wanted so much to give in, to pretend…
But she didn’t lose control this time. She retained the painful knowledge that this would lead them nowhere, would serve no purpose other than brief—albeit wonderful—gratification. And that was not something she wanted to get used to, when he had no intention of turning this into a habit for either one of them.
So she said the one thing that would stop him, before she lost the will to say it. And she spoke in a tone guaranteed to get results.
“Bojik!”
The dog growled instantly. Vasili hadn’t even noticed the wolfhound, since it had been curled up on the other side of the horses. But he knew now why Alexandra hadn’t been worried about being left alone with him.
He leaned away from her to say, “You don’t play fair, sweetheart.”
“Neither do you, Petroff.”
Hearing that, he grinned, understanding that it hadn’t been easy for her to resist him. She’d had a hard time just getting that reply out. And he wasn’t going to let them both suffer when a little charm and skillful persuasion would crumble her defenses—or so he thought.
As his luck would have it, he didn’t get the chance to find out. His name was shouted from the front of the stable, and he recognized that blustering tone as belonging to his friend Serge Lehar, whom he would have been delighted to see any time—except now.
Stifling a sound of frustration, he called out, “I’ll be there in a moment, Serge.”
To which a reply came. “They’re as magnificent as Lazar said.”
“A friend of mine,” Vasili said in a whisper to Alexandra. “He’s come to admire your horses, apparently.”
“I won’t sell to him if he asks.”
The unexpected statement didn’t surprise Vasili as much as the stubbornness he heard behind it. “Why not?”
“Because I remember every horse I’ve sold and still think of them often, and think of their owners caring for them. I won’t want to think of one belonging to a friend of yours, because I want no reminder of you once I leave here.”
