Spring Fires (50 page)

Knuckles rapped impatiently on the side of the coach.

"For God's sake!" His dark head went up. "What the—"

Lisette realized then, as he did, that the coach had stopped outside a handsome well-lit town house.

"It seems that we are here," he muttered ruefully. "Why don't we finish this
conversation
inside?"

"I really do have something I want to discuss with you!" she insisted as he opened the carriage door and stepped lightly to the elevated pavement. Apparently Nicholai hadn't heard, but for good measure she reminded herself once more of Devon's admonishments at Carleton House. Above all, she must dissuade him from journeying to France.

A wrinkled, tired-looking butler met them at the door. Nicholai immediately sent the old man off to bed. Lisette gazed around in wonder. The narrow house was three stories tall and decorated with flawless good taste. Fine paintings lined the long hallway that passed the stairs and led back to what she assumed must be the dining room and the servants' quarters. A fire bathed the parlor to her left with soft, intimate light that made the furnishings look all the more elegant and inviting.

"Shall we sit down? After you, fraulein." Light mockery infected his voice.

Lisette perched uneasily on the far side of a mahogany and satinwood sofa upholstered in pale green striped satin. Turning her head, she discovered that Nicholai was preparing to open a bottle of sparkling Champagne wine. He apparently sensed her stare and glanced over to give her a wink that struck Lisette as indecent. Champagne! Was such extravagance a nightly habit, just in case he persuaded a gullible female to accompany him home, or was this pre-planned to celebrate his seduction of a wealthy Austrian widow? Had Nicholai no thought for the girl who waited in a CoffeeHouse in Philadelphia? Gazing into the fire, she heard a sudden soft pop, and a moment later he was sitting down beside her with two crystal goblets of golden, effervescent wine. Lisette accepted hers reluctantly.

"Thank you, Herr Beauvisage," she murmured primly, avoiding his eyes.

"To your rare beauty and grace, fraulein." Nicholai touched his glass gently to hers in a way that made her feel as if he'd caressed some intimate part of her body. "I find that I am growing warm just looking at you!"

Words dried up in Lisette's throat as she watched him set the glass on the side table before standing to strip off his frock coat and waistcoat and drape them carelessly over the opposite arm of the sofa. The firelight emphasized the contrast between Nicholai's tanned face and his snow-white shirt.

"How did you ever manage to find such a wonderful house—with servants and lovely furniture?" Lisette heard herself ask a trifle too loudly as she felt his body settle next to her own once again.

"All this belongs to an old friend of my family. The death of an elderly relative took him to the country unexpectedly and he was kind enough to offer the place to me."

"How very fortunate! Is he returning soon? Perhaps that is part of the reason you are leaving England?"

"No. He'll be in Yorkshire until November," he replied without further elaboration.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisette watched Nicholai idly straighten pleated cuffs. Her gaze slid to his fingers. They were long and golden brown, with well-tended nails. The hairs on the backs of his hands glinted in the firelight and Lisette remembered how strong they were, with calluses earned during a decade of physical labor in the vineyards. She remembered, too, the sensation of his fingers and hands on her naked body, the smell and the taste of them against her open mouth....

"Fraulein, you are flushed," he was murmuring huskily. "Are you also warm?"

She was mesmerized by the sight of one of his hands coming toward her face. When he cupped her chin in his palm and laid his fingers against her cheek, Lisette nearly gasped in reaction. She ached to turn her mouth and kiss them.

"You feel feverish. I hope you aren't ill!" Nicholai's fingertips blazed a feather-soft trail down to the cleavage formed by a bodice that displayed the high curves of Lisette's breasts. "How quickly your heart is beating. Shall I send for a physician?"

Finally, she detected the hint of amusement in his voice and realized that he knew exactly what her ailment was. Slowly, slowly, Nicholai's hand stole away from her thudding heartbeat and traced the warm curved flesh on either side. Shocked by the violent response of her body to such simple caresses, she closed her eyes and swallowed a sob. Between her legs, she felt hot and congested and now suddenly wet.

"Fraulein Amstetten
,
look at me." His voice seemed to cut the air like a sword.

Swept by a wave of panicked anxiety, she complied. His eyes were emerald flames, scorching her, and she would have turned away, but he caught her delicate chin in a steely grip. Nicholai's other hand brushed one of her erect nipples, outlined against its sapphire velvet cover. Lisette trembled and tears stung her eyes. At that moment, it seemed that she would die if Nicholai did not make love to her.

"I want you to come upstairs with me," he told her bluntly. "To bed."

She nodded; he released her chin. Seeing him reach for his champagne, Lisette suddenly realized how thirsty she was. She drank down the rest of her glass and the thousands of bubbles felt like tiny pinpricks in her mouth and throat. Wait! What about Gabrielle? That was why she had come—to warn him!

Nicholai stood up and said with heavy irony, "Don't worry, my passionate
beauty
.
Whatever you wanted to discuss with me will keep until later."

Had he read her mind? Lisette hadn't the strength to hold the thought, for Nicholai was propelling her toward the stairway, his hand riding on the small of her back. They ascended to the bedchamber in silence. It was a spacious room furnished with handsome Sheraton pieces, including a curtained field bed.

She pretended to look around, suddenly shy, and wandered over to the fireplace, holding her hands out toward the soft coral flames that provided the chamber's only light.

"Fraulein Amstetten, is it possible that you are now
cold?"
Nicholai exclaimed in mock dismay. He came up behind her so softly that when Lisette turned and discovered him only inches away, she gasped.

"I—I suppose that you should call me—" She stopped.

"Giselle?"

Something in Nicholai's voice alarmed her. Was he different... in bed with other women from the way he had been with her? He couldn't feel any
love
for Giselle Amstetten...!

"Yes, of course. Giselle," she whispered. At this point, there was no choice. Unable to go on meeting his penetrating stare, Lisette turned back to the fire in an effort to collect her wits.

Nicholai bent and kissed her nape, smiling when her hips jerked slightly, involuntarily. He began to slowly unfasten the tiny velvet buttons that followed the curve of her back.

"Be patient, Giselle. I will give you everything you need—and more."

Uneasiness vanished as her arousal surged higher. It seemed that she would go mad if he didn't hurry with her gown; she burned to feel his skin against her own.
She told herself that even though he didn't realize it, the reason he wanted to make love to Giselle Amstetten was because she was actually Lisette Hahn. She wanted to tell him, "Don't worry, it's really me!"
 

Nicholai's warm hands were sliding inside her open gown, under her arms, until they curved teasingly around her gossamer-covered breasts.

"You've missed this, haven't you?"

She moaned and gasped, "Yes!"

"Have you missed this too?" He turned her to face him and, grasping her hand, placed it on the hard thick ridge of his desire. Lisette was excited and ashamed all at once as she thought, helplessly, that he believed she was someone he barely knew. It was obvious that Nicholai meant her to take her turn and unfasten his breeches. He began to kiss her with a lazy sensuousness that banished every thought and sensation save passion. Her shaking fingers worked at the straining buttons until suddenly his manhood fit itself to her hand, steely-hard yet so warm.

"Oh... Giselle—" Nicholai gave a harsh groan.

Confusion pierced Lisette's own arousal. "I hope you don't think I'm a loose woman..."

"No, no, of course not." His tone was soothing as he pulled off his clothes. "You are a widow, after all. You know the pleasures of the bedchamber, and it isn't fair that you should be completely deprived of one of life's great delights."

"But... what about love? At Vauxhall, you told me that I remind you of someone you once knew. Did you love
her?"
The words spilled out in an unexpected flood. What would he say? Would he laugh?

"Love her?" Nicholai seemed to consider the implications, meanwhile slipping down the thin straps of her chemise. "Certainly she was a beautiful, fascinating woman... but now I think that perhaps her eyes were not so blue as yours." Baring Lisette's taut breasts, he nuzzled them and continued, "Her breasts were not this firm and full, nor so delicious...."

She had to bite her lip to stifle a groan as he tasted each nipple in turn until she pressed closer, caught in a raging storm of desire. Her priceless velvet gown, silk chemise, and ruffled petticoats slid down to pool around her ankles. Stepping over them, she barely noticed as Nicholai tossed them aside. Tenderly, he removed her silver slippers and she stood before him naked, except for white silk stockings secured by sapphire velvet garters.

"You are beautiful," Nicholai said huskily. The tone of his voice and the heat of his gaze on her naked body intensified the throbbing between her thighs. "You are more glorious than any woman I've ever seen." He kissed the creamy flesh above each stocking.

"Even...?" she managed to breathe.

"I've never known anyone who could compare." With tantalizing slowness, he removed the garters and then the stockings, his fingertips tracing fire down her soft thighs.

"Your legs are longer...." Nicholai's mouth was hot as it pressed nibbling kisses inward along Lisette's waist, then down over the swell of her hip. "Your belly is smoother...."

Suddenly, she felt his warm breath stir the feathery gold curls that concealed her womanhood. The effect upon her body was convulsive, yet somehow outrage triumphed over passion.

"Oh! How dare you!" As strong hands molded her buttocks, drawing her closer, she struggled mightily. The scoundrel had never even bedded "Giselle Amstetten," and yet he dared to venture where only the most intimate of lovers would be allowed—! And for him to say that this fictional woman's body was in every way superior to Lisette's, obviously just so that she would weaken and allow him to have his way with her—it was too much to be borne! "Loose me, you molester of women! Brute!"

Nicholai sat back on his heels with a grin just as one of Lisette's flailing hands flew out to catch him across the side of his jaw. His amusement turned to annoyance. Hard-muscled arms flexing, he grasped her waist and rose, lifting her easily.

"Animal!" Lisette railed. She could not believe this was happening. During all the stirring, sensuous encounters she had had with Nicholai, he had certainly never
forced
her. Now, after carrying her to the bed, he cupped her buttocks and pulled her hard against his insistent masculinity. Wildly, she struck out, but Nicholai ducked, laughing, and caught one recalcitrant hand. No sooner had he pinned it to the small of her back than Lisette's other fist struck him in the nose with surprising force.

"Bitch!"

"Bastard!" she hissed in return. "I have completely misjudged you; you're a typical man! A stupid brute!"

Mercilessly his steely fingers captured her rebellious wrist and pulled it back to join its twin. Meanwhile, Nicholai pushed her thighs apart with his knee. Just before thrusting his aching hardness deep inside her, he admonished, "Don't be a poor loser! Or did you imagine that you were the only one capable of putting on an act?"

Lisette didn't know what he was talking about, but fully realized his physical intent. Crazily, she bucked against him, which only served to facilitate his hot driving penetration.

"Oh, God!" she whimpered. It felt so good! Ashamed, yet imprisoned by age-old instincts, she eagerly met the thrusts of the bronzed male body that covered her own. "I hate you!"

"Oh, no." Nicholai laughed harshly. "You aren't
that
skilled as an actress. You love me—or you wouldn't have followed me all the way from Philadelphia to London,
Lisette!"

Chapter 44

September 7, 1793

"
Bete
!" Gabrielle spat. "What takes you so long?"

On the verge of tears, Angelique hurried down the long staircase before turning back to speak to her companion. "I had to make certain that Dudley was truly asleep, didn't I? If he should discover us leaving, I know that he would follow—all the way to the new home of M'sieur Beauvisage, and there is not any explanation in the world that I could offer if that were to happen!"