Love and Triumph: The Coltrane Saga, Book 8 (28 page)

He wanted his reward, all right, but not only for a few days and nights. He wanted her for always.

But for the moment, he cared only about getting her away from Cord Brandt and Boris Gorchakov…

…and having her all to himself.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Marilee was so nervous that she had spilled two trays of drinks, and Miklos, the restaurant owner, was scowling. She knew that this night there would be no turning back. She had to extract the information she needed from Boris, and whether or not she’d be able to successfully stave off his lusty advances remained to be seen. Her only defense, she had decided, was to find something to get angry about. Then she could storm out of his place and continue to hold him at bay while the Whites finalized their plans for the escape.

Still, she knew she could not get through the evening with her nerves so frazzled. Dealing with Boris was enough to worry about without the added stress of finding out that Cord Branch was around. Damn him! Didn’t he have sense enough to know that as soon as possible, she would turn him in as a spy? Just as
she
was wise enough to know that he would do the same to her! That was why tonight had to be the night, no matter what. To wait any longer was to invite exposure.

Boris usually appeared late in the evening. So far, she had not seen Cord. Maybe, she dared to hope, he had heeded her warning and would leave her alone. But she was so on edge that she began to sneak little sips from an opened bottle of kirsch in the back room of the restaurant. Gradually, she felt a little more sure of herself.

When Boris walked in, she was startled to see him because it was still early. He did not take a table. He paused only long enough to unfasten his chin strap and remove his khaki cap. Then he gave her an affectionate, eager grin and walked purposefully across the room to Miklos.

She watched as the two spoke, and did not like the smirk on Miklos’s face when he looked in her direction. Then they shook hands, and Boris headed her way.

“What was that all about?” she asked, feeling a bit piqued.

He leaned to kiss her cheek boldly, then he whispered happily, “Get your things,
milochka
.
You are free for the rest of the night.”

“But—” She shook her head, bewildered. Dear Lord, not so soon! She needed time to get herself together. She just wasn’t ready for the evening’s performance!

“What is it?” He stiffened, glowering down at her. He was perhaps two heads taller than she. “You aren’t pleased that I was able to get you excused early? You aren’t as happy as I am that we can now be together longer than planned? What kind of game are you playing with my heart, Natasha?”

“You’re wrong!” She shook her head again. By God, she could not wilt now. Forcing a smile, she stood on tiptoe to brush his lips with her own. “I’m just surprised he agreed. Miklos can be difficult, and—”

“You forget who I am,” Boris roared, happy once more, “but he does not! Now get your things, and let’s be on our way. I have a nice fire, and I’ve even prepared a little dinner for you to make up for last night.”

She sucked in her breath and turned, wincing as he laughed lustily and gave her a playful pat on her bottom.

Hurrying to the back room, she pulled her boots on over her shoes with shaky hands, pausing now and then to sip more kirsch. Then, reaching for her cape, she took a deep breath. This was it. There was no turning back.

As she walked out, she had a sudden, stabbing wish.

Her Uncle Colt had called her weak.

But, despite her apprehension, she knew that she had never felt stronger.

The Coltrane blood was flowing, and how she wished the Coltranes knew it.

The woman stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as Boris left with the lovely young girl.

The woman’s job was to keep the bar glasses washed. When the basket on the floor at the end of the long wooden bar was filled with dirty glassware, she would take it into the back room to carefully scrub and polish the glasses. The clean glasses would be placed in yet another basket, ready to go back to the shelves behind the bar.

The basket was filled, but she did not move. She had just seen Boris Gorchakov enter.

She now knew that Marilee was in his clutches. Where was Cord Brandt? She was powerless to do anything to help, and—

“You! You want your rubles tonight?”

Miklos was glaring down at her, his hands on his hips.

She scurried forward and retrieved the basket, then hurried into the back without saying a word.

Miklos watched her for a few seconds. She was a strange one. She had begged for the job, and didn’t care what he paid her, she said, as long as she got something to eat. She stayed to herself, kept her head down, and never looked anybody in the eye. He wondered why she was staring after the Russian officer and Natasha. He grunted. It didn’t matter, she had gone back to work.

Irina felt like crying out, but long ago she had learned to swallow her tears and keep on going. But how she cringed to think of poor Marilee in the clutches of that fiend—and all to try and save her father.

Cord was the only one who knew Irina’s true identity. She had not even let the other Whites know where she was. They were afraid she was going to use the gold she had hidden to buy her beloved Drakar’s freedom. She was sorely tempted—but she knew he did not want that. It was to be used only for the purpose intended—on behalf of the Czar and the Imperial family. Drakar had given her explicit orders to stay hidden, along with the gold.

Through the gossip of the underground she had heard of Marilee’s abduction and the Bolsheviks’ demand for ransom—but it had been too late for her to do anything. She knew that Cord Brandt was working as a counterspy, and had managed to contact him. She had then helped him to find Marilee.

But now she had no way to contact him, and oh, how she needed him! Marilee was in trouble, and if Cord didn’t return soon, Irina knew she’d have no choice but to try to do something about the situation.

She took the basket back out and set it on the bar for one of the tenders to put away. Then she returned to the kitchen and paced about nervously as she tried to decide what she should do. Finally she decided that she had no choice but to make her way to Lieutenant Colonel Gorchakov’s quarters to be nearby should Marilee find he was more than she could handle.

It had begun to snow, but the flakes were large and soft, and the wind wasn’t blowing, so it would not be too difficult to walk the short distance. Irina wrapped her worn woolen coat about her and made sure the little knife she kept strapped to her ankle inside her right boot was secured. Then she opened the back door of the restaurant.

Just as she stepped outside, a figure loomed out of the alley and grabbed her. She was terrified until she recognized Cord Brandt’s intense face.

“Something’s happened,” he said in a, rush, pushing her back inside. “What is it?”

She told him that Gorchakov had shown up early and gotten Miklos’s permission for Marilee to leave.

He swore. “How long have they been gone?”

“Nearly forty-five minutes, I think,” Irina said reluctantly.

“Where?” He started to shake her. “Where does the bastard live?”

She told him, and he immediately turned to go. She caught his sleeve and cried, “Cord, what are you going to do?”

“Get her out of there, goddammit.”

“But she needs time—”

“For what?” He whipped about angrily. “To get him to tell her the best time to break her father out of jail? You really think she can do that, Irina? Maybe she’s cunning enough, but I doubt it, especially when that reprobate has got other things on his mind. He’s not going to waste time on conversation tonight. You can bet your hidden Imperial gold on that,” he could not resist adding.

“You don’t understand, Cord. Drakar himself ordered me to keep it hidden until it could be used to free the Czar and his family.” She suddenly gave in to her tears. “Nobody knows what I’ve suffered to keep my promise.”

He patted her awkwardly. “Yes, they do, Irina. Everyone knows that they tortured you, and that you didn’t give in, and everyone respects you for that, including me. Forgive me if you thought I was being unkind. Drakar is a lucky man.”

He gave her a quick hug. “I’m getting her out of there, one way or another.”

She followed him to the door. “But then where will you take her?”

“To where I met you,” he replied, then disappeared into the night.

Irina stared after him for a few seconds, then closed the door and leaned against it, offering up a silent prayer for the people she loved.

Outside, where there was no sound except for the snow gently falling, a lone figure appeared from the shadows…and stealthily followed Cord Brandt’s footsteps into the shimmering night.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Boris stood behind Marilee to take her cape, and when it dropped from her shoulders, he kissed the back of her neck. She stiffened, but he did not notice, for he had waited so very long for this moment.

He clamped both hands on her breasts and pressed her back against him, his lips nuzzling her skin as he moaned against her ear, “Oh,
milochka
,
my
darling
.
You are driving me crazy. Never have I wanted a woman more. I must have you…”

He spun her around and covered her mouth with his lips in a clumsy but determined kiss. Marilee tried to endure, but when he forced his tongue into her mouth and clamped a thick hand between her legs, she could stand it no longer.

Jerking away from him, she cried, “Boris, what’s wrong with you? How dare you just…
maul
me this way, the second we walk through the door? What do you think I am?”

“A beautiful, desirable woman,” he declared hotly, reaching for her again. She stepped back.

“I want you desperately,” he cried. “Don’t you know that? Why do you torture me?”

“In time!” she said sharply. “You promised me dinner, and I’m famished.”

“Yes.” He nodded and moved to the little kitchen area. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m rushing things, but I just want you so much. We’ll eat first…” He began rattling things around. “And then we’ll go to bed, where we’ll be nice and warm, and I’ll make it so good for you, my dear Natasha, so good.”

He turned to give her an adoring gaze, and she managed a tight little smile.

He held out a drink to her. “You’ll like this. I got it especially for you. It’s called
Palusookhoye
,
a nice champagne.”

She took it eagerly and gulped it down, then asked for a refill. Then she watched, her mind whirling, as he scooped some sort of stew from a large pot on the stove.

“You should recognize this,” he told her. “It’s
pelmeni
,
very popular in Siberia, made of reindeer meat.”

Marilee shuddered. It did not smell very good, but she had no intention of eating, anyway. She was on her third glass of
Palusookhoye
, feeling just daring enough to pretend idle conversation. “You have such a dangerous job. I worry about you all the time. What if some of your prisoners escape? Isn’t that a frightening possibility?”

Boris’s back was turned, and he was glad she could not see the knowing smile that touched his lips. The little vixen. He would play her game, but only for a little while, because he intended to have his fill of her before Rudolf arrived. He had told Rudolf to wait till near midnight. A glance at the clock told him he had nearly two hours. That was why he had arranged to bring her here early, so there would be time for him to do what his loins commanded so hungrily.

Finally he replied, “Well, not really, Natasha.” He feigned indifference.

“But every jail is vulnerable somehow,” she persisted. “Each has a weakness.”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “I suppose if we have one, it would be around daylight, when there’s so much going on—the changing of the guard, inspections, the prisoners receiving their breakfast trays in their cells. I’ve made a note to put more guards on duty then, but I don’t really worry about it.”

He could not resist giving her a probing look. “Why do you?”

She looked up at him coquettishly through lowered lashes and laughed softly. “Why, no reason really, except to reassure myself that you’re safe. We’ve become so close. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Boris.”

“And nothing will, I promise you.”

He filled two bowls with
pelmeni
,
then set them down on the table, gesturing for her to join him. “Let’s not waste any more time, Natasha, darling. The fire is burning down, and we’ll be much warmer in bed.”

Marilee sucked in her breath and sat down. There was no chance that he would pass out this night, because he wasn’t even drinking. She pointed to the bottle he’d placed on the table. “Aren’t you joining me?”

“No, I’m determined to make up for last night. I want all my senses to be keen tonight so I can make sure that you receive all the pleasure I have to give you.”

Marilee was afraid she was going to be sick.

“Eat.” He gestured impatiently. “You said you were famished.”

Marilee knew it was time. She had quite easily learned when the jail was most vulnerable. More information than that she could not expect. Giving her plate a shove, she declared petulantly, “I don’t like reindeer meat.”