Spring Fires (31 page)

Gently, Lisette touched Nicholai's rigid manhood and felt him flinch. Though she was trying to appear coolly wanton, her inner emotions mixed overwhelming passion with nervous apprehension. Somehow, while washing him, she managed to keep from blushing, but when she looked up and felt the impact of his burning eyes, she could hardly breathe. She ached to be satisfied. His body was like a magnet, drawing her nearer, and she was powerless to resist the pull.

"Lisette... I can't stand much more of this—" he whispered hoarsely, lowering his leg back into the water.

Triumph and surrender mingled in her bittersweet smile. "Neither can I."

Nicholai was spellbound as Lisette straddled his hips. She brushed her swollen womanhood against him tantalizingly before his arms encircled her back, crushing her breasts against his chest. When he kissed her dry mouth and realized that she was nervous after all, his heart melted.

"Oh, my beautiful, audacious love..."

"I love you, Nicholai."

His hands framed her face as he pressed burning kisses from her brow to her breasts. Then, Lisette caressed his pulsing shaft, touching it tentatively to her own warm flesh. Golden firelight haloed her graceful body as she straightened above him. When she guided Nicholai past the taut entrance to her pleasure, he almost cried out.

His hands cupped her buttocks firmly so that she wouldn't slip. The water swirled around them as Lisette moved forward until he was completely sheathed within her snug warmth, over and over again....

She moaned with pleasure. A tortoiseshell hairpin fell into the water as Lisette's head dropped back, setting free a spill of curls.

Nicholai felt her tighten even more around his hardness and knew that her climax was surging closer. He wanted to share it fully with Lisette; to look into her eyes and let her know that more than passion had set him afire....

Shifting a hand to the rim of the tub, he carefully straightened so that they sat face to face. "Am I hurting you?" he queried softly, kissing her.

"No! Oh, no..." She smiled and nibbled at his shoulder, her azure eyes glowing. Then, to accommodate Nicholai's altered position, Lisette slid her legs around his hips and let him control the movement between their fevered bodies. As his thrusts intensified, she felt the throbbing in the pit of her belly grow like a wave that towers ever higher before breaking on the sand. They kissed urgently, climbing to the crest of the wave, then shuddered together during the explosive, exquisitely torturous descent.

Gradually, they relaxed, enjoying the pleasurable fusion of their sated bodies... It was the ultimate embrace. Lisette was conscious of every inch of Nicholai that touched her flesh—his hard chest against her heaving breasts, his rough jaw grazing her flushed cheek, his lean-muscled legs against her sore thighs, and the warmth of his manhood inside her body, pulsing contentedly.

After several minutes, Nicholai pressed an ardent kiss to her brow. "I love you."

"And I love you." Lisette was in a state of total bliss. Still, she couldn't resist teasing, "I
am,
however, beginning to notice now that this bathwater is not quite as warm as it was...."

Nicholai held her close and let out a deep sigh. "What water? I can't feel a thing except you,
cherie...."

Chapter 28

May 7, 1793

A crisp morning breeze, heady with the scent of lilacs, drifted across the four-poster bed. Sunlight glinted on Nicholai's dark chestnut hair and warmed his back, but it was the dull pain in his shoulder that roused him from a deep, contented sleep. Reluctantly, he awoke just enough to turn tentatively onto his back, yet there was still some pressure against the throbbing shoulder.

When his eyes flickered open and blinked in the bright sunshine, they fell on a silky trail of lemony curls. Snuggling peacefully against Nicholai's wounded shoulder was Lisette, her long lashes brushing above fragile cheekbones and one hand curled trustingly around his hard bicep. Beneath the linen sheet and satin comforter, her limbs felt deliciously soft and warm entwined with his. The sensation of firm breasts cushioned against the leanness of his side stirred him anew. Ignoring the pain, he eased back onto his side.

Slowly, his free hand slid under the covers. Deft fingers grazed the sensitive outer curve of Lisette's breast and the graceful line of one hip before touching, with exquisite gentleness, her smooth belly and the feather-soft curls below. The desire that pierced him was sharp and keen—different from the sweeping heavy yearning of last night, yet shot through with a special poignancy.

As he tentatively caressed her silky inner thighs, Lisette was gliding into what seemed to be a beautiful new dream. Excruciatingly pleasurable sensations were concentrated where... someone was touching her....

"Nicholai—" she whispered sleepily.

"I'm right here." Tenderly, he kissed her awake.

Her eyes were vividly azure as they opened. "I—oh, my—"

"Happy to see me?" The irrepressible curve of his mouth branded her warm throat. "When I woke and found you cuddled next to me, I felt as if I'd died and gone to heaven!" More huskily, he added, "Truly, you have never looked more enchanting."

"Oh, Nicholai..." The spring sunshine and their naked bodies, so cozy beneath the covers, heightened all her senses. His warm dry touch set her instantly afire; hesitantly, Lisette slid her own hand lower to curve around his hard masculinity.

They caressed each other for a long time in the lilac-scented morning, each gaining a leisurely familiarity with the other's body that hadn't been possible in last night's blazing urgency. Now, slow, tantalizing kisses and drowsy love murmurings were exchanged. Finally, Nicholai's arms enfolded her so that their wonderfully dissimilar bodies could embrace from head to toe; then Lisette found herself being eased back into the snowy pillows.

"I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you here," he said softly. "Even my dozens of dreams fell short of this reality."

Overjoyed that she no longer had to struggle against her own fiercest longings, Lisette wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her hips boldly against him. "I feel utterly decadent—" Suddenly, her voice broke off and she stiffened, listening. "Did your hear something?"

Before Nicholai could respond, the distant knocking was repeated. At this point, his own craving was acute and he had no intention of deferring it because of an early caller.

"Pay no attention", he whispered, pausing for a torturous moment against her thigh. "At this ungodly hour, they will assume we are still asleep and go away."

"But, what if—" Lisette broke off at the renewed pattern of knocks. Although Nicholai's hardness now burned her own aching need, she couldn't relax and take his advice. The idea of being in his bed and enthusiastically making love with him before breakfast was too new. Lisette told herself that there was no cause for shame—but it still embarrassed her to think of anyone else knowing.... "I think that we should see who it is, at least, in case someone is in trouble!"

"Why this very moment, for God's sake? Whoever it is can certainly wait for a few minutes!" The disruption infuriated Nicholai; his refusal to acknowledge it was taken out on Lisette. His hands caught her hips and stilled them, despite her struggles, while his unyielding manhood pressed the entry that was a bit tender after the previous night's passions.

"Why should they wait at all?" Lisette demanded. Outrage boiled up inside of her. "So that my obliging body can ease your need? If you imagine that I am so besotted that I'll spread my legs at your whim—"

A familiar voice interrupted her tirade. "Oh, Nicholai! Hello!" it sang. "Lisette? Are you here?"

Lisette had been battering Nicholai's chest without result, but now he was up in a flash. "Devil take it! It's my mother!" he hissed angrily.

She had more scalding comments to make, but was forced to swallow them, temporarily, at least. Antonia Beauvisage's voice sounded closer now, repeating their names in obvious puzzlement. Sheer panic won out over modesty and Lisette sprang from the bed and darted naked across the room. Watching the dressing room door close safely behind her flying curls and creamy derriere, Nicholai fought a twinge of amusement. It would take a great deal to make him smile under these trying circumstances, not the least of which was the frustrated throb in his groin.

"For God's sake, Maman, quiet down and just open my door!" he shouted crossly.

Antonia Beauvisage hurried down the hall and into her son's room, breathing a sigh of relief. She found him sitting up in bed, naked above the covers that almost touched his waist.

"Gracious, Nicky! Why ever didn't you answer sooner? Dr. Wistar told us that you were up and about, so I was rather hoping that you would greet me at the door! And where is Lisette?" Antonia perched easily on the bed, petite and graceful, and pressed her son's strong hand. "Are you all right? How is your shoulder—and why isn't it bandaged?"

"I was fine—until you came barging in at the crack of dawn to rouse me! What possesses my family? Yesterday, it was Katya and Randolph who 'happened by' before I'd even had breakfast, and today my mother has chosen an equally uncivilized hour for a visit. One would think all of you lived a stone's throw away!" Nicholai rubbed the knuckles of his fist against his unshaven jaw. "Not only have you managed to arrive before my breakfast but poor Lisette hasn't even finished dressing!"

"Oh—well, then, I apologize most sincerely..." Antonia's face was a study in bewilderment. "However, I cannot help wondering when the hour of
noon
became so uncivilized...!"

After an awkward moment of silence, Nicholai echoed,
"Noon?
Are you serious?"

"Completely, Nicky." Arching a brow, she gave him a small smile that promised not to pry into his affairs. Yet, with the natural instincts of a mother, Antonia's eyes took inventory without seeming to stray from her son's face. After forty-five passionate years of marriage, she could recognize a bed shared by lovers; Nicholai had not slept alone the night before, and Antonia guessed that little time had been wasted on sleep. A hint of a familiar feminine scent lingered in the air, and, no doubt, deep in his pillows as well.

"I must have been drugged by the country air," Nicholai was saying a trifle uneasily. "When I heard Lisette call out that she was dressing. I just assumed it was still early... but perhaps she took advantage of my lethargy to finish a new gown or just lie in bed and read or to have a bath—"

Antonia managed to nod conversationally. She was glad that Nicky didn't look her in the eye as he lied; that was one skill she hoped he never acquired.

"I certainly don't blame either of you for enjoying your holiday." She smiled. Meanwhile, her mind was working at full speed. Was it truly possible the Lisette Hahn had become her son's lover? In spite of Caroline's and Katya's schemes to match Nicholai with the lovely Austrian girl, Antonia could scarcely believe that the resolutely independent Mistress Hahn could have melted this much in less than a fortnight.

Since Nicholai's return from France, Antonia had thought a great deal about her last unmarried child. Katya's romantic future, after all, was settled. Because of her own richly fulfilling marriage, Antonia had always prayed that her offspring would be similarly blessed. Over the last decade, Nicholai had suffered heartbreak more than once. He had battled for survival in France's bloody Revolution, been forced to abandon the chateau and work that he loved, and now bore a painful scar to remind him of the duel that had nearly claimed his life. More than anything, Antonia yearned to see her younger son at peace... but in reality, there were formidable barriers that only Nicholai could break down. Happiness and fulfillment would not come to him overnight, no matter how fervently she might wish that it could be so.

"Maman, why am I worried that your intent expression has something to do with me?" Nicholai asked fondly.

"Probably because you have known me since the day you were born." Antonia smiled. "And also because you're smart, you rascal. Too smart for your own good!"

"Perhaps too
handsome
for my own good, but it's not possible to be too smart."

"What about conceit?" his mother rejoined. "Maybe that is the quality that plagues you in excess."

He laughed appreciatively and kissed her hand. "It is good to have you here, Maman. I apologize for the churlish welcome I extended."

"No apology is necessary, Nicky. I understand completely."

There was a soft
tap-tap
on the dressing room door. "May I come in?" called Lisette.

"By all means," replied Nicholai, wondering how they would ever get through this unrehearsed scene in front of his mother.

Apparently, Lisette was thinking the same thing, because she wore an enchanting expression of uneasiness. Clad in a plain long-sleeved frock of pale pink cotton, with a white fichu modestly filling the décolletage, Lisette had gone one step further by wearing her golden hair in the high braided crown that Nicholai hadn't seen since the CoffeeHouse. She was the picture of polite, detached efficiency until she neared the bed and met first Nicholai's gaze, then his mother's.