As soon as I close the door behind me, he rushes over, catching me up in his arms and twirling me around before setting me back on my feet and leaning forward, kissing me deeply.
I know I should put a stop to it, but I can’t bring myself to break away. Finally, I push back, gasping for breath.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says, clutching his body against mine. “I was afraid you would stay away, and I would never get to touch you or kiss you again.” His words are rushed, his time bordering on desperate. Carefully, slowly, I extract myself from his arms and step back.
“I’m so sorry, Alexander. This never should have happened. I have to marry Peter, you know that.”
He frowns and steps forward. I know that if he touches me, my resolve will fly out the window like a bird and I will melt into him, so I step back again, holding my hands up.
“Sophie, please,” he begs. “Don’t do this, don’t push me away.”
The air between us is so thick that you could slice through it with a sword. I can barely breathe through it.
“I cannot allow this. The idea of being with him, all the while wanting, wishing for you, is more than my heart can bear. The only solution is for us to forget each other, to put our feelings aside and do our duty,” I reason with quaking words.
He reaches out, catching my hands before I can stop him.
“If I could, I would offer you my heart, my soul, and make that be enough. But I know it is not. I know that Peter is your destiny. You are going to be the most beautiful, clever, kind empress Russia has ever seen. And I want to be there for that. But I can’t think about that now because today, in this moment, all I want is you. The thought of losing you cuts me to my very marrow.”
I look away, even as he draws me closer. The war rages inside me, one part wanting nothing more than to kiss him until the sun rises, another part knowing why I can’t.
He tilts my chin up gently.
“If you want to send me away, tell me only that you do not love me, and I will go. I will never speak your name again, never touch your hand. I will pretend that the loss of you hasn’t killed me.”
I sigh, my hard-fought resolve fading quickly.
“I could never say those words, because they would be the gravest lie. Of course I love you. I love you so much that I risk everything just to come to you tonight. If anyone knew—I would be ruined, sent away in a cloud of scorn. No one would ever have me, and I would bear the shame all my days.”
He takes my face in his hands.
“I would have you, in shame or sin, I would have you in any way I could, in any way you could give yourself to me.”
He kisses me again, and I know I’ve lost. Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him to me. He smiles against my lips.
“My sweet Helen, for you I would be Paris, and for your love, I would defy God himself and then return to you for a kiss.”
“Peter and the empress will return in a few days. What will we do? Meeting like this… it’s too dangerous,” I say, unwilling to pull away again.
“Do you trust me?” he asks solemnly.
I nod. “I do.”
“And do you love me?”
“With all my heart and my life, I do.”
He kisses my hair.
“Then trust me. Give me a few days and by the time they return, I will have a plan. In the meantime, if you need me—”
“I always need you,” I interrupt.
He grins.
“If you want to meet me…” I open my mouth to interrupt again, but he puts a finger against my lips, which I kiss. “Leave me a message in a book. John Wilmont’s letters to his mistress.”
I frown. “Am I to be your secret mistress?”
He shakes his head. “No, my love. I will be yours.”
Queen of Someday Page 19