“Yes, little bird, the wolf needs to be fed and only your delectable flesh will do.”
“I believe I am right next door.”
His grin was infectious as he clasped his hands together and thanked the Christmas elves for delivering early.
“Eat your vegetables at dinner, get your strength. I think it’s time I show you how to eat a Russian sausage,” he murmured before taking a step towards the house.
Chapter 13
The hunting had taken a more serious turn which got him involved. A group came up from London this morning, invited to join the hunt for deer over the next few days. They were Barons, Princes, and military men from around Russia, the Baltic, Slavic and Ottoman fringes. He had many acquaintances in common with them, and they gave him a taste of home. Tonight, the sound of their music floated up from downstairs as they danced and sang. They had taken over the library and its sofas if they ever decided to sleep.
The sound of the music, the gypsy rhythms, had made him rougher in bed as he held Seraphina as if she would run if he let her go. Pounded into her as if he could leave his mark, as if she could understand what was in his heart if he pressed in deep enough.
He’d taken to having walks with her where they’d talk about his ideas, his prediction of where the world was going and the opportunities it afforded men with insight and courage to act. Nothing bored her and she was so encouraging it made him heady to think that some of these views might not be as impractical as his family thought.
And every day as he had more to lose, his stomach knotted a little more.
“You’re awake,” Seraphina said, stretching in the bed next to him.
Ilya wanted to take her into his confidence, had argued today with Demetri about it to no avail. The family were on lockdown while they worked through clearing themselves of the shame of Demetri’s betrothal and the blackmail behind it.
She sat up and shimmied over to the side of the bed and stood up.
“Do you want a drink of water?” she asked.
“Vodka.” He feigned shock, “I’m not done with you yet, little bird.”
The soft sound as she laughed sent pleasure through him. Such a simple thing that made him feel like his purpose in the world was somehow more solid on hearing it.
The moonlight through the window as she walked over to the small side table to pour their drinks, lit up her skin in a rich pearlescent glow. Every curve shadowed and caressed with night light.
Mesmerizing.
He decided he finally understood how love worked; it lifted a veil, revealed what you could see only with your heart.
Her.
The essence of her shimmering like a phosphorescence, the glow of which filled him to bursting with an overwhelming feeling of wellbeing.
“We’ll be returning to Russia soon.”
Will you come with me?
How much did he want to whisper those words? How much did he simply want to whisk her away and be alone together? Leave the machinations of Demetri’s betrothal and his family’s fervent cry for its annulment?
“It’s alright. I know not to expect anything.” She sounded so matter-of-fact as she came back to bed with his glass of vodka.
Ilya stilled, the words, a slice cutting his heart. “You think I don’t expect anything?” His jaw tightened. Was it some kind of inevitability that no one expected anything of him?
She placed the drink down.
“Ilya. I know what you are. I know what this is.” She motioned around them. “You don’t have to worry about me.” The lack of light made it hard to see what sat behind her eyes, she looked so cool and serious about it all.
The truth was she had no idea what this was, because she had no experience to measure it against, except being wed to an old man. All the signals were falling on deaf ears. The attention, the long talks, the lazy lounging around, a man didn’t do that with a woman he simply wanted to have sex with. No, a liaison was often exclusively focused on that mutual task of physical gratification, and then both parties went about their private business.
She simply gravitated to the fact that he was a rake, and this was a tryst. That was fair enough, but it irritated him no end none the less.
Ilya flipped the sheet back and rolled out of bed. He put on his britches. “You know what I am?”
He picked up the vodka she’d poured then stalked over and sat by the fire.
Brooding.
She had no idea how she’d hurt him. His family, they all thought he was nothing but a shallow pleasure seeker, but she hadn’t thought that, even knowing he was a rake she saw who he was as a man, as a person.
And, what suddenly now…he was an expect-nothing-from-anyone rake. What had he done to make her think that was all he was? That he wasn’t a man, with a heart who wanted her for something more.
Seph pulled his shirt over her head as he glared at her. Then padded over to the fire in bare feet. Far too gorgeous to stay angry with, but he was hurting.
“I didn’t mean any offence.” She touched him on the arm, and he stiffened, wanted to throw the touch off. Deliver a rejection of his own.
“No, I am sure you didn’t. I have what every rake wants, a woman who expects nothing from him.” He picked up the fire iron and poked at the fire as if it were a beast that needed taming. Loaded more wood.
“I thought you would be pleased.” She stood looking at him a little awkward.
“Pleased?” He looked at her as if she were mad.
“Yes. That I understood. That you don’t need to manage me out.” He could see the confusion on her face, that hurt as well.
“Manage you out?” The logs got his whole attention and were handled in short sharp movements bordering on impatience. “Have I given you the impression that you are not important to me?”
“No, you have been very attentive, but isn’t that an art? Did I get it wrong?” She was getting irritated.
Good!
“You think I am acting?” He turned. Paced.
“No.” She moved so she could watch him as he paced. “But this is all so second nature to you. Of course, you will be considerate and charming, but I understand it’s just part and parcel of your expertise.”
Heaven help him.
“My expertise?” His voice rose and his muscles tightened. Just how manipulative did she think he was?
“You have a lifetime of wooing women and enjoying liaisons. Of course, you will be consummate at it. That doesn’t mean it’s personal to me. So? Did I?” Her hand came to rest on her hips.
His heart thundered in his chest and his gut twisted.
“Yes, you did get it wrong. Is it too much to ask of you to trust me, to have some faith in what I feel for you?”
“You are a rake. This is what rakes do, right?” She was getting irritated as well.
It felt like a tight ball burned in his gut, his palms clenched and unclenched.
“I am not just a rake,” he said loudly.
“I am sure you’re not. But I am sure you make every woman feel like she’s the most wonderful woman in the world until she’s not. I am simply trying to prepare myself and let you know I understand.”
If this is what she had been thinking all along he suddenly wondered if he had miss read her. He looked at the flush of her skin, the tightness around her mouth and eyes. No, she cared. He just didn’t understand where this was coming from.