Love Me Again

by Wendy M. Burge

  Her breath was tight and labored as she tried to pull away.

  Shaking his head, he coaxed her closer, his large hands gently cupping her elbows. “We can't fight what we are, lark. You have tried; I have tried. And look where we are. Right back where we started, loving each other and needing each other even more. I'm just asking you to admit this truth to yourself. Is that so hard?”

  His tender words battered at her, and his endearment, which she had never thought to hear again, felt like salt being poured on the open wound that was her heart. Taking a deep breath, she looked up, and the devotion in those beautiful azure eyes was nearly her undoing. Tears gathered behind her lids, which she tried to blink away. “I can't, Varek,” she whispered. “I can't. If I do, I'm lost.” She had to remember her baby at home, her most precious link with the reality of what her life was. What Varek offered wasn't possible any more.

  Licking her lips, she pleaded with him, “Varek, it's too late for us. You have got to let go, for both our sakes.”

  Stepping back from her, his hands slid down her arms till her hands rested in his. Silent, he toyed with her fingers, marveling at their delicacy. She held his life in these tiny hands. He wondered if she knew or cared anymore. Then with a sad smile, he shook his head. “I can't do that, lark. Not even for you. I've just found you after all these long years, and I would sooner lose my life than lose you again. Whether you like it or not, we belong together. One day you will realize this, and when you do, I'll be waiting.”

  Pulling trembling hands from his grasp, Christina didn't know whether to scream, hit him or run for her life. She chose the latter, being the coward that she was. But first she had to try one last time. So she told him coldly, “That's where you are wrong, your highness. Robert has a hold on me that you will never be able to break.”

  The frustration was back in the narrowed gaze he turned on her. His jaw was clenched as he thought furiously on his next attack.

  As Christina's defiant glare faltered and fell beneath the weight of his regard, Varek reached a decision. He was about to take the second biggest gamble of his life. The first he had been forced into and it had cost him the love of his wife for more years than he wanted to recall. If he lost this time, he would lose her forever. Could he take the chance?

  Stiffening his resolve, he plunged ahead. “I will make a wager with you, Christina. You look me square in my eyes and tell me you don't love me anymore. Tell me that what I feel is no longer shared by you, and could never be again.”

  The fear he saw dilate her eyes almost made him collapse in relief. He continued with more confidence, “If you can do this and mean it, I will let you go and never bother you again. But, if you can't, you have to give me a chance to win you back without fighting me all the way.” He stepped back, watching her cautiously. “Do you agree to this wager?”

  Varek blinked at the flare of fury that darkened her eyes before she looked past him and gazed out over the park. Her face had become an impassive mask that he could not read to save his life. Suddenly, he was scared to death. It couldn't end this way, not with all they had shared. Impatiently, he brushed away the trickle of sweat at his temple.

  Minutes passed by and Christina didn't move a muscle, simply staring out at nothing. Only the stirring of the curls at her temple and the muslin skirts about her feet gave a hint that she was more than just a statue poised in thought.

  Christina's thoughts, though, were frantically running amuck. At this moment she hated herself and this infernal weakness where Varek was concerned. All she had to do was look him in the eye and lie. A simple little lie. She had done it the other night with Robert. She could do it now. A simple little lie for the good of everyone involved. Then Varek would go away and she would never have to see him again. Her mind shut down on that thought. Not such a simple lie, after all.

  Taking a deep breath, she hardened her resolve and thought of Eddie, her precious son. This is for Eddie.

  Turning her head slightly, she looked Varek straight in the eye. Lord, those eyes of his! Licking her lips, she opened her mouth to speak and saw Varek's gaze drop to visually stroke her moist lips. Christina wanted so badly to close her eyes, to lock out the sight of him, but she didn't. She held true, though the strain to her body was devastating. When his piercing regard moved up slowly again to meet hers, she shivered.

  “I...” the sound of her voice cracked and she coughed.

  Varek's eyes narrowed.

  “I...” she forced her gaze to maintain eye contact with him, though in her mind she blanked out the sight of those beautiful eyes trained so intently on her. Instead, she pictured Eddie's gamine smile. She took a deep breath and declared in a flat voice, “I don't love you anymore, Varek.” She had to literally force each word over her numb tongue. But she had done it! She felt giddy with relief. Thankfully, she broke eye contact with him and looked down at the ground.

  Her elation didn't last long though, for she frowned when she noticed that Varek hadn't made a sound. Glancing up, she was astonished to see a small smile curl his sensuous lips. The cad actually looked relieved! Then a brilliant smile broke across his stern visage. When he reached up a finger to tap her nose, she jerked back, her mouth agape in amazement.

  “You lied. I believe I just won our little wager,” he drawled.

  “Why, you ... you...” she sputtered, thinking of all sorts of horrible things to call him but couldn't seem to find the nerve to say them out loud. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. “You just see what you want to see, and you know it!”

  “I know when I see a lie in your expressive eyes, lark. And that one was not the least bit credible. You were looking at my eyes, Christina, you were not looking in them.” His brow rose in a taunt. “You don't believe me? Very well. Do it again. Look into my eyes, and say it again.” With a finger, he tipped up her stubborn chin. “Into my eyes, lark.” She glared resentfully, deeply, into his mocking eyes. “Good. Now say it again.”

  She narrowed her eyes, and tried to focus beyond the penetrating blue of his eyes; his oh, so beautiful eyes!

  He shook her chin. “Into my eyes, damn you, not past them.”

  “All right, blast you!” She jerked her chin out of his fingers and stood toe-to-toe with him. This time she did look, and in the turbulent depths she saw all the years, all the memories, all the love they had shared. Her breathing turned erratic but still she held his piercing, demanding gaze, and she opened her mouth.

  “Say it, Christina,” he murmured, “If you can.”

  She took a deep breath, and held it suspended as she battled with herself. Then she expelled it with an enraged groan, her eyes closing against him in defeat. “Damn you, Varek, you win! I can't say it. Are you happy?” She spun away from him, furious; with herself, with him, and with the fates that had done this to them again. After a fretful moment, she muttered ungraciously, “You are a cad, your highness.”

  Trying to keep a straight face, and the smugness out of his voice, Varek bowed low. “I do beg your forgiveness, madam.”

  Stepping closer to him, she leaned forward and hissed. “It doesn't change anything, Varek. I am still married, and not to you!” Then turning with a regal swish of her skirts, she hurried down the walkway.

  “Not for long, my precious love. Not for long,” Varek murmured as he watched her disappear into the flow of pedestrians before he waved his hand. Out of the crowd materialized a great brute of a man, who immediately took out after Christina, his faithful bloodhound on her scent.

  Smiling, and contemplating the siege before him, Varek sauntered off in the opposite direction, in no hurry to get anywhere. It was a beautiful afternoon, so he was content to amble along and think of the little hawk his gentle lark had become.

  * * * *

  Hours later, Christina was still castigating herself for her abysmal weakness in the park. To add insult to injury, she had been forced to sit through an interminable dinner under Varek's lazy smile; his heavy-lidded gaze raking every in
ch of her person that he could visually touch. Then fevered fantasies had taken over, and she imagined his elegant hands stoking every inch of her flesh that he couldn't see. It had been pure torture!

  So, in retaliation, she had turned her scattered wits on comparing her noble husband with the rogue lounging across the table from her. That fruitless endeavor soon had her on the verge of tearing her hair out by the roots, which put her in such an irritable mood she could scarcely make polite conversation with her dinner partners. For no matter how hard she tried, and she did honestly try, she wasn't able to make Robert come out the victor in any physical comparison to Varek.

  She had breathed a sigh of relief when Varek finally left the table with his cousin, the Austrian Emperor Francis. When the door closed on his broad back, she had relaxed for the first time since they had sat down to dinner, two hours earlier. She was finding it so exhausting being in the same city with Varek, let alone the same room.

  Christina felt equally blessed when a messenger called Robert from her side and into a meeting with Castlereagh. She was just too restless to be subjected to another of Robert's sulky interrogations.

  So here she was, alone in bed, restless and edgy, and desperately blanking out every erotic thought that forced its way into her fevered imaginings.

  Fool, she brutally castigated herself as she yanked up the comforter to her chin and glared up at the ceiling. She thought of Robert, and became agitated. The Robert of Vienna was a stranger; he was not the man she had married, the man who had healed her pain and brought her to Kerkmoor.

  So he can't stir my blood like Varek can with a mere smile. So he can't make my heart pound with joy when he simply walks into a room. What has that to say about anything?

  He is the father of my child!

  Finally hitting upon the ultimate trait that Robert had over Varek, she pounded her pillow, stretched out and stared up into the canopied darkness. Of course, Robert was what she needed. He had given her a son, where Varek had failed miserably. As Varek had said often enough, their destinies had all been preordained; obviously, she was not meant for Varek.

  Varek had simply been her fantasy come to life. But only for a short while. Life had given her a beautiful memory to sustain her through the rest of her days, and she should be grateful for that.

  That was all Varek was meant to be, a brilliant, magnificent shooting star in her life. Nothing more, and never again.

  Turning her face into her pillow, Christina cried herself to sleep.

  Five

  Lord Castlereagh paused in his dictation and studied Robert for a few moments before he dismissed his secretary, Peterson.

  Robert wasn't even aware of the departure of the man, and it was Castlereagh's prompting that brought his distracted attention back to the present. Surprised, he looked around to find them alone, then flushed with embarrassment when he found the foreign secretary's eyes trained upon him.

  Sitting up straight, he cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  Castlereagh shook his head and leaned back comfortably in his chair. His gentle gaze invited the sharing of confidences, something Robert suddenly had the need to do. He certainly wasn't getting any answers out of Christina. He almost sighed with relief when Castlereagh's quiet voice broke the silence.

  “Is there something troubling you, Robert?”

  Robert hesitated for the slightest moment, feeling guilty about discussing Christina. She was such a secretive person, guarding her privacy almost jealously. Having second thoughts, Robert reluctantly shook his head.

  “Come now, Robert; we've known each other a long time. Your brother was one of my first and has remained the staunchest of my supporters. Please, allow me to be of assistance.”

  Shifting restlessly about in his chair, Robert recrossed his legs. “It's Christina,” he finally blurted out.

  Castlereagh nodded, smiling wryly. He had assumed this, considering the appearance of von Vischering several nights ago. “It must have been a shock to her to see the archduke again.”

  “You know him?” Robert sat bolt upright in his chair, startled.

  “Not personally, but I know of him. He comes from a very illustrious old family, the last surviving member of the von Vischerings. He rules a small but extremely wealthy duchy in Germany. He is connected to the Habsburgs, and being a favored cousin of Francis, has considerable sway over the Emperor.” Castlereagh shook his head sadly as he continued, “It was a devilish shame what happened.”

  “What?”

  Castlereagh's brow cocked in surprise. “Why, Christina's divorce, of course.”

  Exasperation flared in Robert's eyes as he slumped back in his chair. How many others knew more of Christina's life than her own husband did? He was almost ashamed to pursue this conversation any further. Damn, why couldn't she be more open with him?

  Castlereagh stared at him in confusion and Robert, wishing to avoid eye contact, cast a heedless glance about the beautifully appointed study.

  Not knowing what was going on behind Robert's agitated manner, Castlereagh kept his opinions to himself and waited with the patience for which he was renowned.

  Finally, Robert swore softly and turned back toward his superior, anger lacing his usually benign voice. “Tell me what you know, my lord, of Christina's past. I need to know.”

  Castlereagh hid his shock at this revelation. “Did she not tell you everything before you wed?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  Cautious to a fault, Castlereagh couldn't believe what he was hearing. “How could you marry her, not knowing anything of her past? I'm not saying she is well known, coming from a rather small duchy, but she is a royal archduchess of limited notoriety.”

  Robert blinked at him, stunned. He had married into royalty? There was a distinct buzzing in his head and he could feel the blood surging through his veins, even as his extremities felt cold. “I didn't know.”

  Taking a deep breath, Castlereagh leaned forward, his fingers steepled before him on the desk. “What do you know of Christina?”

  Robert gave a short, derisive laugh. “Apparently, not enough. I met her while I was touring Italy. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. In all fairness, she made it very clear that she wanted her past kept behind her and told me quite bluntly that she would never speak of it. All she would tell me was that she was divorced, without family and from a small province in Germany. I loved her so much, so I didn't press her for any more fearing she would run from me as she ran from anyone who tried to get too close.” He shrugged philosophically. “So, I accepted her as she was, a woman of mystery. I didn't care then and I don't particularly care now. It is just that since she saw ... him, she has been distraught, frightened, and she still won't tell me anything. I'm so damned worried, I don't know what to do!”

  Castlereagh thought hard on all he had heard about von Vischering and Austenburg. Unfortunately, there wasn't much. He had to admit he was surprised that Robert's brother, the Duke of Kerkston, hadn't checked into her background. But then again, he might have and been very satisfied with his brother's choice. Christina, after all, was a prize among women. Frowning, he admitted, “I can't recall much of von Vischering as he was a bit of a recluse, quite content to stay in his duchy and away from the politics brewing around him.” His voice tapered off as he wondered just how much of Christina's past he should divulge. Obviously, she wanted it kept private and in the hierarchy of peerages, even though she was married to a viscount, she was still a royal princess and her wishes should be respected.

  “How long were they married?”

  “About ten years, I believe.”

  Ten years! She had to have been only about fifteen or sixteen when she married!

  Watching the emotions war in Robert's expressive face, Castlereagh now wished wholeheartedly that he had allowed Christina to stay behind in England. If he had known any of this, he most certainly would have. Never had his intent been to put her in such an untenable position as she was caught
in now. As royalty, she would obviously be known to many of the aristocracy of Europe, no matter how much the archduke and his former archduchess had kept to themselves. If the St. Poles had been careful to keep her so secluded, why hadn't the duke said something to him? Castlereagh didn't like surprises, and he intended to find out what was going on here.

  “Robert, I don't know if I should speak any more of Christina's affairs. It seems to me she must have a very legitimate reason for keeping her past from you.”

  Robert sat forward, tensed and insistent. “I beg of you, my lord, I need to know of this von Vischering. What of his feelings for her? Could he possibly pose a threat against her?”

  Rubbing his face, Castlereagh sat back in his chair and stared off into space, debating. Finally, he offered a bit more, though quite reluctantly. “I understand he was forced to set her aside as she could not bear the duchy an heir.”

  Robert seemed to have a hard time digesting this piece of news. “I don't understand. She was divorced because she was barren?” His voice expressed the stunned look in his eyes.

  “Apparently she'd had many miscarriages, unable to bring a child to full term.”

  After a few tense moments, Robert asked quietly, “Did they love each other?”

  Castlereagh's empathic gaze studied the young man opposite him. Should he lie? When Robert's hesitant gaze met his, he nodded slowly. “It was well known they loved each other passionately. After the divorce and sudden disappearance of his wife, there were rumors concerning the mental stability of the archduke. But, again, they were just rumors.”

  Robert remembered those cold, ice blue eyes devouring the sight of his wife. It was quite clear what the archduke's feelings still were for Christina. But what of hers for him?

  When he recalled her fearful eyes gazing up into the handsome features of her former husband, Robert felt a numbing sensation curl about the pit of his stomach. At that moment he was more frightened than he had ever been in his life.