RUSSIAN WINTER NIGHTS (5 page)

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 appeals. His last stolen glance was 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 noble 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 in 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 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 had lost himself in woodcarving. First, he’d 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 work bench. “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 onto 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 away, and then I convinced Igor that I just wasn’t worth the effort. He wasn’t interested in marrying me once I let him think 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, clucking 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 still 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 and devour her whole. She responded with a low, throaty moan. When Ekaterina lifted her slim arms to twine 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 ahold 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 up 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 calloused 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 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, 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.”

Chapter Seven

Empress Anna was positively
seething
.

She paced the length of her royal chambers, muttering and casting glares at the two people standing in her reception area. There was the architect’s apprentice, Andrey, who stood tall and broad-shouldered, his lips thin and his eyes grave. And then there was her niece, Ekaterina, with her fierce blue eyes and defiant slant to her chin.

But appearances were deceiving. Andrey’s palms were clammy, and Ekaterina’s stomach was turning somersaults. Neither knew what Empress Anna would do.

“Foolish girl,” the Empress bellowed as she turned on Ekaterina. “You’ve toyed with my commands and turned my own subjects against me.”

“You misunderstand, Aunt,” Ekaterina replied, her voice cool. “My suitors abandoned me.”

“Manipulative minx,” her aunt countered. “You are delving into a game you can’t hope to win.” Anna advanced on her, chest heaving in anger. “Well, you can take your little aspirations back to the North, you ungrateful girl,” the Empress told her, teeth clacking together as she spoke. “You are banished from my court, Ekaterina Romanova. Go back to your father. Tonight!”

Ekaterina resisted the urge to shrug. Such a sentence was hardly even a punishment. She’d never wanted to come to the Winter Court anyway. Now, she was only worried for Andrey.

“And you,” the Empress said venomously, jabbing a finger in Andrey’s direction. “You should thank your lucky stars that your mentor has brought to my attention that the work on this palace would never be finished without you.”

Andrey’s breath caught in his throat as he dared hope.

The Empress turned away, her hands clenching. She suddenly slammed her fist into a table and spun around, her cheeks aflame. Andrey felt his heart sink.

“I will give you a month to finish here, and then,” she hissed, enraged, “and then you will be off to Siberia whether or not you are done. You will spend the rest of your life hauling goods under the whip, until your beautiful back is torn to ribbons and your jaw cracks under the strain. You will die my slave, Andrey Kvasov, this I promise you.”

Ekaterina’s voice, clear and melodic, cut through the fog of his panic.

“I’m sorry, aunt,” she said evenly, “but that will not be possible.”

Both the Empress and Andrey turned to look at her, bewildered.

“Are you mad?” the Empress sputtered. “Do you think you can command me?”

“No, Empress.”

Ekaterina steeled herself and straightened imperceptibly. She forced every ounce of her aristocratic upbringing into her next words.

“But you cannot send this architect to Siberia.”

Her aunt spat, her expression shocked and enraged. Ekaterina stared down her aunt, commanding and glacial. Andrey had never been so proud or terrified.

“You. You!” the Empress stammered, for once at a loss for words.

Ekaterina took a breath, and got ready to put her plan into motion. All the other pieces had fallen into place; now she just needed to trap her aunt.

“I am Ekaterina Romanova of the North,” she said, lifting her eyes proudly. “And my father, the Baron Dimitri, has requested the services of the architect Andrey Kvasov in this letter.”

She held out a parchment, which her aunt snatched away, her beady eyes scanning the scrawled words. Her face grew even redder, her cheeks puffing in aggravation.

“That scheming brother of mine,” she said through gritted teeth. “How dare he!”

“How dare he?” Ekaterina sniffed delicately. “When without his funds, you would not be able to maintain this palace? We all know how much you rely on his money.”

Empress Anna looked like she was about to explode. Both Andrey and Ekaterina fought to keep their ground. Shaking her finger at her niece, Empress Anna finally conceded defeat.

“You conniving little fox,” she spat. “You are nothing but a thorn in my side. Get out.” She turned away in a huff. “Both of you—out of my sight!”

They did not need any other encouragement. Without a moment’s hesitation, they marched from the royal suite, leaving the Empress to sulk by herself. As soon as they were far enough, they both stopped and embraced in relief. Ekaterina grabbed Andrey’s shirt and pulled him close.

“I must not linger,” she told him in a low voice. “We have angered her enough, and who knows how she will retaliate if I stay but a moment too long.”

“Then go,” Andrey urged her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But know that you and your father have surely saved my life.”

Her answering smile was gentle. She cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

“We will meet again,” she promised.

“Yes,” Andrey agreed. “And in a month, I will come to you in the North.”

Ekaterina sighed and kissed him one last time.

“Stay out of her way. Stay safe.”

With that, she turned and hurried away, brushing away the tears that had collected at the corners of her eyes. Their farewell had been too brief, too rushed—but she knew that time was of the essence. She had to go, and she had to go now. Hopefully all would be well; hopefully.

“Ekaterina!”

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the sound of him calling her name. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were grave, but his smile was wicked and brave.

“I will build you as many secret passages as it pleases us to use.”

Ekaterina blew Andrey a cheeky kiss and winked, her heart swelling. Yes, they still had much to explore together...and she had many more games to play.

* * * * *