He did need her. His right hand was in Denning’s clutches. Despite the tightness in his chest at the mention of ‘we’, Stepan smiled. ‘I’m way ahead of you there.’
It would be his most daring escapade yet, but sometimes the most daring were the most successful. He would take a dinghy out the Skorost and he would personally sail the boat into Shoreham harbour. The boat had already been sighted. It made no sense to wave the boat off. Such an action would be tantamount to admitting guilt, promoting the idea the ship had something to hide. He would unload that boat in the harbour under the captain’s very eyes. And he’d pray that the converted barrels with their secret compartments would escape detection.
‘What are you going to do?’ Anna fixed him with a long stare, a smile of her own playing at her lips.
‘I’m not going to ride into town. I’m going to sail in.’
Anna’s smile widened as she moved into his arms, her arms slipping around his waist. ‘Perfect. And I’m going with you.’
This time, he didn’t protest, another consequence of what also happened when people said ‘I love you’. They started to believe in the impossible—that love would triumph over fear and danger. Today, Stepan hoped they were right. Everything depended on it.
Chapter Nineteen
The sea was exhilarating! Anna kicked off her shoes and scaled the ropes and helped furl the sails, laughingly taking instructions from Stepan’s crew when she made mistakes. That afternoon, as they worked to make the ship ready for Stepan’s great bluff, she might have been one of them in a pair of boy’s trousers and her bare feet, her hair tied back in leather strip. She hurried up and down the ropes, rolled casks and swabbed decks, all with equal enthusiasm. Stepan had stopped forbidding her on the ropes after the third time.
Anna shaded her eyes with her hand and looked about the deck for Stepan. He’d been everywhere this afternoon: above decks, below decks, in the rigging. His captain had politely ceded sole leadership of the ship to him and the men had responded, understanding time was of the essence. The sails had been furled and the anchor dropped. The Skorost was going nowhere until all was ready. Anna quartered the ship’s deck with her gaze—this time she found him at the wheel deep in discussion with the captain. Everything was nearly ready, then.
Anna walked to the bow of the ship and leaned on the rail, the exhilaration of the day mellowing as she looked out over the water. The afternoon was cooling, shadows starting to fall, the sun a little lower in the sky than it had been. Behind her, a cry went up from the men to unfurl the sails and the anchor chains began to groan. They would be underway and the dangerous work would begin.
A thrum of excitement surged in her blood at the thought. This was what life would be like with Stepan: a continuous bout of adventure and risk, a life full of purpose, fighting for others. It was also what love would be like with Stepan: a constant, gentle tug of war between his need to protect her and her need to be part of his world. The latter was what he needed, too, whether he realised it yet or not. He’d let her come today because he needed her. Not only because she could manage Denning in a way he could not, but simply because he needed her—her beside him, them together.
Stepan was counting on her; his very life and the lives of his crew and his land crew were depending on her tonight. The thought ought to scare her, but it didn’t. The challenge of it excited her, it made her fingers tingle and her pulse race with the sense of purpose she’d longed for. The ship began to move, the wind lifting her hair and filling her face with its gusty breath.
Oh! She liked this! Anna closed her eyes and spread her arms wide to feel the power of the wind fully against her body. This was what freedom felt like—wind and sun against her face, a ship cutting through the water beneath her feet. A ship could go anywhere, at any time. A ship was not tied to the land or a place. She let the wildness take her, let the fantasy rise in her mind. What if they just sailed away?
She was wicked for thinking such things when there were more pressing concerns: Joseph, the cargo, outwitting Denning. Those things should take precedence in her mind, but there would be time tonight for all that. Right now, she wanted to give herself to the wind and the sea.
Arms encircled her and drew her against the hard warmth of a body. She smiled and murmured his name, ‘Stepan.’ Her lover. What a delicious thought that was. Oh, how just the suggestion of it could make her burn. ‘You never told me you knew how to sail.’ He’d been a revelation today in his breeches and rolled-up shirtsleeves, coats discarded, the wind battling the leather strip for his hair. This was the real Stepan. There was nothing of the stoic about him today as he bellowed orders. Watching him haul casks, muscles flexing beneath his shirt, had been intoxicating.
The real Stepan was a daring smuggler; a man who seduced her with a smile; a man who said he wanted her with his eyes, with a touch; a man who would brawl in his dining room for her. She liked that man far better than the stoic version. More than liked. She loved that man, flaws and all.
‘He doesn’t know how to love, he doesn’t know what a family is.’
Dimitri’s warning came back to her from across the years. She smiled to herself. She knew now that wasn’t entirely true. Stepan had always known how to love, he was just afraid to. She could change that. ‘I should be angry that you kept all of this to yourself. It’s wonderful. I can only imagine what the stars look like at sea. I think I like sailing.’
Stepan chuckled, low and warm at her ear, his arms hugging her close. ‘You should sail through an autumn squall before you say that.’
She was too content to argue. These precious moments were the calm before the storm. ‘Maybe I should.’ Already, wildness was seeping into her contentment. ‘Why don’t we just sail away, Stepan? We could go to America or to the Caribbean. There’s plenty of adventure for us there. Say we’ll go tonight, after we get Joseph and the cargo is safe.’ A thrill of adventure ran through her. ‘We could do it. The moment Denning is off the ship and we are free to hoist anchor.’ She could stand here all day with the wind in her face and Stepan at her back. This was all she really needed. How interesting to discover that with the right man, marriage could be freedom, that freedom and marriage were not mutually exclusive of one another.
‘Leave it all?’ he murmured of the practicalities. She knew he was thinking of the money, the wealth in his bank account at Coutts on the Strand, the jewels in the strongbox there, the clothes at Seacrest, all their things.
‘You have this boat and this crew. We can bring Irish and anyone who wants to come. We can send word for them to meet us somewhere.’ Out of caution, Stepan had ordered the land crew to scatter. No one was to be near the caves today in case Denning decided to invade.
‘You have it all planned out.’ Stepan laughed. ‘I’m to support all of them with no funds?’
‘You will build another fortune,’ Anna said simply, believing it completely. She could see it now. He could be a trader, a merchant, even a smuggler if he preferred, anywhere in the world. He’d built a fortune here, he could do it again somewhere, anywhere. It didn’t matter to her. ‘You’ve always been able to do anything, even the impossible.’ She realised it was true. He’d freed Nikolay, he’d got them all out of Kuban. Those were impossible things. Making a new life was nothing to a man like him. He’d already done it once.
‘You would leave your brother? Leave the others?’ That was the stoic Stepan talking now. She would banish that man if she could, except that it was a part of him as much as the adventurer. To lose that part would be to lose part of who he was.
‘We’ll find other causes. I am sure there’s injustice in the Caribbean or America, too.’ She laughed softly. ‘And perhaps the others are wise enough to look after themselves for a bit.’
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. ‘Nikolay? Wise enough? Hardly.’ Anna heard the resignation in that chuckle. She squeezed his hand in support and empathy. It w
as time for him to let go of the past and grab the future with both hands. He’d delivered his friends out of danger, he’d stood by them as they found new lives and loves. It was his turn now.
She turned in his arms, facing him, her hands in his hair. ‘Break away for me, Stepan,’ she murmured and in that moment she swore a private vow that she would be enough for him. She would be enough to break his self-imposed chains. She reached up and kissed him softly on the mouth and she felt his arms close around her. It wouldn’t be much longer now before the game began. The excise boats were growing closer and the sky was fading. The energy of the bright March afternoon had given way to the quiet of twilight. She breathed him in; the salt on his skin, the wind in his hair all testaments to the wildness alive in him, as assuredly as the hints of soap and cologne on his shirt anchored him to civilisation. This was her man: the Smuggler Prince.
* * *
The cry went up from the crow’s nest that the customs ship was approaching actively now that it was clear the Skorost intended to put in to the harbour. ‘It’s time.’ Anna licked her lips, slowly stepping away from Stepan’s warm embrace.
Stepan’s hand curled around hers, his voice quiet. She half expected him to protest her assistance one more time. Instead, he said simply, ‘I’ll help you dress—’ and then because he couldn’t help himself ‘—if you’re sure? I can have you set ashore.’
She pressed a finger to his lips. ‘I am sure, Stepan. My place is with you, always.’
Everything was laid out in the captain’s quarters, Stepan’s clothes and her dress, or rather Beatrice Worth’s dress—a grand red-silk confection cut daringly low. Stepan had instructed her to bring it when they’d left Seacrest. It would be her job to keep Captain Denning at the table tonight long enough for the cargo to be unloaded right under his nose while he and his men ate and drank.
A soft lamp lit the captain’s quarters as she poured water into a basin for washing, aware of Stepan’s eyes on her. She made to pull her borrowed boy’s shirt over her head, only to feel Stepan’s hands on hers, the familiar words at her ear. ‘Allow me.’
* * *
He stripped the shirt over her head, his phallus already hard. Anna had been a fine sight today, strutting about the decks barefoot in those just-a-bit-too-tight trousers, snug through the hips—a solid reminder that the figure beneath was not a boy’s. ‘I was proud of you today.’ He dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out before sponging one arm and then the other, mimicking his actions from another bath not so long ago when the water had been warmer, the soap more French and a tub present. ‘You took to those ropes like you were born to them.’
He gently bathed her breasts, watching her pink nipples stiffen from his touch, from the cold. He wanted to kiss those breasts, wanted to hold them in the palms of his hands until they were warm again. But there was no time. Denning would be upon them soon. The bastard had been watching them all day, waiting to pounce. Stepan had made him pay for that. He and the crew had made a long, slow show of doing repairs from the storm, just outside Denning’s reach.
‘Come, let me play the lady’s maid.’ Stepan led her to the bunk where her garments were laid out. He knelt before her, working the trousers over her hips and down. God, she was beautiful; those full breasts, her narrow waist and the rounded flare of her hips. He gripped those hips and pressed a kiss to her navel, murmuring a promise. ‘When this over, I will take you to bed for days on end.’
‘I shall look forward to it.’ Her hand drifted through his hair. They were both pretending the future was assured. They were making plans and promises as if tonight was a fait accompli, when nothing could be further from the truth. Tonight was life or death. Freedom or imprisonment and it all hinged on the point of a knife. One false move and the future would come crashing down.
He looked at up her with a smile and held up a silk stocking. ‘Give me your foot.’ He dressed her then, with all the care a lover might undress his beloved. He rolled up her stockings, remembering with aching clarity the night he’d rolled them down. He slipped a chemise over her head, tightened her stays and at last slid the red silk into place.
He must be crazy to do this, to allow her to help him, to risk her. It wasn’t too late. He could stop it now. He could send one of the boys back in a rowboat with her. She could be safe at Seacrest. But, no, he reminded himself. There was no guarantee Seacrest was safe. If Joseph broke, the soldiers could come at any time to search the premises and they would not be polite. She was risking her neck whether she was here with him or at Seacrest. Perhaps that was selfish logic fuelling his rationale to keep her near. Still, he’d prefer she be beside him, where he could fight for her, die for her if need be. And she deserved her revenge on Denning. The man had assaulted her. She had a right to claim retribution.
‘Would you like help with your hair?’ He stepped back from her, from his Anna, a lump in his throat. If she was truly safer with him, why did he feel like he was sending her to her execution?
‘I can do it.’ She smiled at him confidently. ‘You need to change, as well.’
He did. He changed in silence while Anna put up her hair and fastened two small ear-bobs. She spied him struggling with his cravat. She put in a final pin and came to him, deftly tying a knot on the first try. ‘There, you’re ready.’ She gave him a radiant smile. ‘Just in time; I think I hear Denning.’ The volume on deck was increasing.
‘One last thing.’ Stepan reached into the pocket of his evening coat and pulled out a pouch. ‘You’ll need these.’ He poured a short strand of pearls into his hand. ‘You should have had them before. I got them after the assembly, after I realised.’
Her eyes glistened as she took in the pearls. She licked her lips. ‘After you realised what, Stepan?’ How like his Anna to press him about something personal with soldiers waiting to search his ship.
‘That you weren’t a little girl any more, Anna. As pretty as that crystal heart was, it was a girl’s charm, not woman’s jewellery.’
‘Will you put them on?’
He let his hands linger at her neck as he fastened them. ‘You look lovely tonight.’ Too lovely. It would captivate Denning and the others, which was the whole point. But still, the fact remained the dress was obscenely low. His voice was hoarse. He’d have to remedy that before he met Denning. He cleared his throat. ‘Are you ready?’
She gave a wicked smile that heated his groin. ‘Almost.’ Her hand was soft on his arm. ‘Tell me we’ll go tonight, when all of this is done.’
His eyes dropped to her lips. There was no limit to what he’d do for this woman. He’d fight for her, he’d die for her, he’d lie to her if it got them through this night. ‘We’ll go tonight,’ he whispered, slipping out the door and on to the deck, ready to play the consummate businessman sailing his ship into port as if it were a normal everyday occurrence.
* * *
Elias Denning stepped aboard the Skorost with confidence. Tonight, Stepan Shevchenko was not getting away from him. It was a foregone conclusion. The boy in custody hadn’t broken, but his friend had, the thin one who clerked at Shevchenko’s warehouse. The boy from the bluffs had nothing to show but a bloody back and a death sentence. He’d have done better to have given in from the start and at least saved himself. Shevchenko was doomed regardless, but the boy had been blindly loyal and now he’d hang for it unless Elias felt benevolent. Just how benevolent would depend on how well things went tonight. He checked his watch with a smirk. Right about now, soldiers would be ransacking the Seacrest caverns and gathering proof.
Shevchenko approached, looking disgustingly immaculate. ‘Captain, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence? Surely you don’t come out to greet every incoming ship?’ It was not a warm greeting. Shevchenko wasn’t going to pretend they were friends.
‘Your Highness, I come out occasionally when there’s a ship of interest. I had no idea it was yours,’
Denning lied smoothly. ‘It lay off the coast so long today it concerned us. We thought it might be in need of assistance. Of course, you’re familiar with the new protocols until we get the smuggling situation under control.’
‘Yes, I have the manifests right here.’ Shevchenko handed over the lists of the cargo being transported.
Denning nodded to the lieutenant with him. ‘Go down into the hold and check the cargo. Make sure it matches the manifests while we sail into port.’
‘Why don’t you and I accompany him?’ Stepan gestured to the hold, showing no sign of concern. The man was far too confident for Denning’s taste. But it was early in the game yet and Denning was no fool.
* * *
A half hour later, all the casks had been accounted for. His men had tapped on every inch of the hold’s floor and hull’s walls, listening for secret bottoms and hiding places to no avail. They’d opened casks of wine and dipped in sticks testing the depth of the casks only to have the sticks measure appropriately. It was a common ploy to have cask contain a false bottom with wine on top but brandy on the bottom. That didn’t seem to be the case here.
‘As soon as you have the totals, I’ll pay the duty on the wine.’ Shevchenko gave a cold smile.
‘Of course.’ If there were spirits, or silk, or more spices aboard this ship, there was no sign of it.
The ship bumped gently into the moorings, signalling their arrival at the docks. Denning was running out of time. He had to keep the cargo on the ship. Once it touched land, it was out of his jurisdiction. A warehouse was private property. He’d need a warrant to get in there—not that it had stopped him before, it just made for more explanations to his superiors.
‘Would you care to stay for supper, Captain?’ Shevchenko ushered him upstairs to the decks. ‘You can taste some of the wine. We have a delicious supper planned in celebration of the Skorost’s arrival.’
Seduced By The Prince's Kiss (Russian Royals 0f Kuban Book 4) Page 18