Part 7 (1/2)
His eyes sparkled. ”I would spank you.” He bent until his lips were near her ear. ”But in a very pleasurable way.”
Bronwyn's heart leapt at the low-spoken threat. I can't believe he's saying such things to me. Even more, I can't believe I'm letting him. But some part of her, a part she'd never known even existed, thrilled at the naughtiness of it. For one mad moment, she wanted him to do something ”pleasurable.” In fact, she could think of several pleasurable things she would like from him right now- I must stop this. Such thinking will only lead me down a very dangerous path. She knew there would be a price to pay, for actions always followed thoughts. She pulled back a little and forced herself to appear disinterested. ”I suppose all princes are flirtatious.”
”I can only speak for myself, but I am not usually so, nyet. Tonight I am flirtatious with you, and no one else.”
He said the words as if conferring a great gift upon her. ”I suppose I should be honored. For tonight, anyway.” Oddly enough, she was honored . . . a little. And fl.u.s.tered . . . and still breathlessly happy, which worried her.
His smile warmed her. ”I only know this, Roza: I am glad to find you, and I wish to kiss you more. But this time, I think it will be a different kiss from the ones we shared in the woods.”
There are different types of kisses? Her chest tightened and her skin p.r.i.c.kled in antic.i.p.ation. ”Oh?”
Alexsey laughed softly, soaking in the mixture of excitement and wonder that shone in her expression. She is so lovely, so open, every emotion clear in her eyes. The obvious excitement in her eyes spurred his own. ”Our first kisses were gentle, new.” Alexsey bent closer, the scent of her hair engulfing him in lilac and suns.h.i.+ne. ”This time, I will kiss you without mercy. I will kiss you over and over and over, until you beg for more than mere kisses.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted, pure, naked desire in her dark eyes.
His body tightened instantly, his heart thrumming in an odd sort of recognition, as if his body, primed by her nearness, recognized hers.
Wanted hers.
Needed hers.
But as quickly as desire had flashed across her face, her lashes dropped and she banished every vestige of longing. With a faint look of regret, her jaw firmed and her face set with a new determination.
As he watched the play of emotion, disappointment settled on his shoulders. So quick to deny your own desires. Why is that? She was as p.r.i.c.kly as the flower he'd named her after. He wondered why he found her so appealing, what trait of hers pulled him closer. But one glance at the plump curve of her lips and the apple-round silk of her cheek, and he only knew that he wanted to taste this lush maiden and stir her sensuality awake. Just a single touch would free it; he could see it in her eyes.
His gaze swept over her to where her bosom filled her gown in a delightful manner. He'd wager his favorite summer palace that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s would fill his hands like ripe fruit, soft and succulent.
His mouth watered and he wished they were alone, where he could explore such intriguing possibilities. She'd looked different when they'd been in the secluded woods-had been different, softer and more approachable. Her hair had been loose and her gown muddied, and-after he'd kissed her-she'd had a dreamy expression on her face. Now she was primped and starched, her expression as cautious as her clothing. Ballrooms do not become you, Bronwyn.
It would take some effort to loosen the bindings she'd wrapped about herself. ”Tell me what sort of kisses you like best: slow ones that make your skin heat, or quick, urgent ones that make you ache for more, or-”
”Stop.” She glanced around as if to make certain no one could hear, her cheeks flushed an attractive pink. ”This conversation is not acceptable for a lady, and you know it.”
”I do not like this word, 'acceptable.' ” He wasn't overly fond of ”lady,” either, now that he thought about it.
”Well, I do like that word. And if you don't stop teasing me in such a way, I'll ask to be returned to my family.”
He sighed. ”So prim. This I do not like.”
Her gaze darkened. ”I'm not fond of it, myself, but it's how things must be.”
”Why?”
She blinked. ”Why? Surely you can imagine the horrible complications that could occur if we continue to-” She glanced over one shoulder and then the other, before she bent closer and whispered, ”Push the boundaries of acceptable behavior.”
He had to laugh. ”I don't think you need to whisper that.”
”Perhaps not, but we would both do well to behave with more propriety. You may not have a care about your reputation, but I care about mine. If I were to cause a scandal, my sisters could be harmed by it.”
Alexsey found himself looking over Bronwyn's head to where Tata Natasha stood with Sir Henry. They were no longer deep in conversation. Instead, she was watching him dance with Bronwyn, a frown on her face. The heavy gold necklace that held the kaltso glimmered in the candlelight.
He returned his gaze to Bronwyn. ”Sadly, there are people who will judge one based upon a reputation.”
”It is unfair, but it is the way of the world. Therefore, it is better for us to put our past nonsense behind us, and remain acquaintances.”
”What does that mean?”
”There will be no more kisses.”
”Nyet.”
She frowned. ”I didn't ask. I'm telling you.”
”I agree we should be more circ.u.mspect when in public. But in private? That is an entirely different matter.”
”Someone might catch us.”
”No one caught us in the woods,” he pointed out. ”We must find more time in the woods.”
”We were merely lucky. The next time, we wouldn't be.”
”Then we would set a watch of some sort, bribe the servants to-”
”Nyet. No. Not in a million years.”
Alexsey wasn't used to such direct speaking, and he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't used to being told nyet in such a bald way. He, a prince of Oxenburg, a huntsman without compare, the future savyet lidir of the Romany (or so he'd be once Tata Natasha was through trying to make a point), was being put in his place by a Scottish la.s.s who enjoyed books more than his kisses. ”You are making this most difficult.”
”I'm making this simple.”
Irritated, he snapped out, ”Is this a trick, a way to make me want you more?”
She quirked an eyebrow in such an adorably threatening way that it made him yearn to kiss a smile back onto her plump lips.
He shook his head ruefully. ”I will take that as a no. Ah, Roza. Why could you not have been a housemaid as I'd thought?”
”Why couldn't you have been a huntsman as I thought?” she returned, regret heavy in her tone. ”You and I are from two different worlds.”
”Nonsense. We have much in common. We both like books, dogs, poems, Sir Walter Scott, dogs-I could go on.”
”You listed dogs twice.”
”It does not matter; I still made my point.”
”No, you haven't. That's everything you know about me, a paltry four things. It's not enough. Besides, whether we have something in common doesn't change one very major item-you're a prince. Everything you do is monitored, watched, scrutinized.” She glanced around them. ”People are watching us even now.”
”I ignore them.”
She looked unimpressed. ”And that keeps them from gossiping?”
Well, no. Nothing stopped that. But admitting that wouldn't help his cause, so he shrugged. ”People always talk.”