Seduced by the Prince's Kiss

by Bronwyn Scott

  He wrung out the washcloth, sending a rivulet of warm water down the valley between her breasts. He felt her shift in protest of his words. ‘He was different before you were born. I am sorry you didn’t know that man,’ he said solemnly. ‘But it’s not too late for you and for him. There is love in him. You can see it in his grief. But in the end, he gave everything for Dimitri and for you. He wanted a better life for you both.’

  ‘He hates me,’ Anna said staunchly. ‘When he looks at me...’

  ‘He sees her,’ Stepan concluded. ‘He sees love and he resists it because it hurts and he can’t get past that, and you fight him.’ He set aside the washcloth. Enough sermonising. What did he know about love? And here he was telling Anna about her father.

  ‘Some day, when I have children, I will love them,’ Anna said with sudden fierceness. The words caught him by surprise. He feared being a father, feared repeating his father’s mistakes. But not her, not his brave Anna-Maria. Even though her own father had been less than a good parent to her, it didn’t occur to her to worry over repeating those mistakes. He sponged her back, the water starting to cool. They would have to get out soon.

  ‘You will make a splendid mother.’ And she would. Anna-Maria feared nothing. The forbidden image of her with a child at her skirts, another in her arms, came again, spearing him with its white heat, so strong he had to get out of the tub for fear he’d ravish her right there. They hadn’t made it to a bed for her first time, but he was determined they have a bed for her second.

  Stepan wrapped a towel about his hips and held one out to her. ‘Allow me to play the lady’s maid.’

  She rose from the water like a Venus and a fantasy rocketed through his mind of kneeling before her, her body dripping wet as he put his mouth to the sweet juncture between her thighs, and a thousand other wild dreams.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ She smiled coyly as if she could guess. Maybe she could?

  ‘I’m thinking if I give in to my fantasies of licking you dry we’ll never make it to the bed.’ His voice was a hoarse rasp. ‘You’re beautiful, Anna.’

  She blushed. She had none of his savoir faire when it came to standing nude before a lover. It was a poignant, humbling reminder of who she was and what she’d given him today—her trust along with her maidenhead. He kissed her then, murmuring the words, ‘You honour me.’ And then more practically, ‘We’ll have to tell Dimitri. I must ask him and your father for their permission.’ Would they hate him for this? Would they see his love for Anna as a betrayal of his love for them?

  ‘It’s a little late to be asking for permission.’ Anna laughed and wrapped her arms about him.

  ‘What do you think they’ll say about us?’

  ‘Why do you worry over it? My father loves you like a son and Dimitri loves you like a brother. I think they would be pleased. Surprised,’ she confessed, ‘but pleased. There’s no reason they wouldn’t be. You are a noble man, an honest man and a good man who has proved his loyalty to the House of Petrovich threefold.’ She kissed him. ‘You doubt your own worth too much, Stepan. You see barriers where there are none. Now, I believe we were headed to bed?’

  He lifted her then and carried her to the bed, his body tense with wanting as he made a seduction out of drying first one long leg and then the other, then the flat of her belly and her full, firm breasts. ‘Can you take me again, Anna, so soon?’ He moved between her legs and they opened for him as she strained upwards, reaching to kiss him.

  ‘Always, Stepan.’ Her hands were in his damp hair, holding him to her, her mouth on his. He would never tire of her kisses, of her touch, of her body against his. He entered her with a tender thrust, revelling in the arch of her back as she rose up to meet him. Discomfort or not, his Anna was intrepid, never backing down. She moaned beneath him as he surged and retreated, surged and retreated again and again. Her hips met his as the rhythm built between them, exquisite and powerful. God, he wanted to live in these moments for ever, in her light. But his body drove them relentlessly towards conclusion, towards one last burst of bliss as he spent, his head against her shoulder, her hand in his hair, her name on his lips in a hoarse cry.

  Here in her arms, he was whole. He wasn’t alone any more and it scared him senseless even as he wallowed in the joy of it. How long could such completion, such peace, last? Now that he’d tasted heaven, how could he ever return to earth? Which provoked the most dangerous question of all: what would it take to make this last? Could he afford it? Could she? What would it cost to make Anna his for ever? It was a lovely question to fall asleep on. He would settle the particulars with her in the morning.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elias Denning collapsed his spyglass with a satisfying thunk and turned to the skinny, dark-haired boy struggling beside him on the bluffs. ‘Is that the ship you were signalling?’ It was barely dawn and the ship was still far out, just a speck on the early morning horizon. ‘Why would you need to signal the boat at this distance?’ Denning mused out loud although he had a fair idea: to turn it back before it ran into the ‘floating customs offices’ that patrolled closer to the harbour.

  ‘I’m not tellin’ you anything,’ the boy said in angry defiance. Denning looked him up and down; the lad was nearly a young man, maybe sixteen, with an alarming maturity in his eyes that said he understood the world and how it worked.

  ‘You don’t have to. I know you. You are the groom from Seacrest.’ Denning let him mull over that little bit of information. He’d recognised the boy right away. ‘Joseph, was it? I think that’s what Miss Petrova called you.’ The boy might have made a fine officer if the opportunity had presented itself. He had the bearing for it. But the opportunity wouldn’t come, not for a boy from the streets. He was simply beneath the army. Denning nodded to the two corporals holding the boy. ‘Bring him back to the barracks and we’ll see how he feels about talking later.’

  ‘What about the ship, Captain?’

  ‘Not much we can do while they’re out of range.’ Denning tapped his fingers against his thigh. ‘Let’s wait for them to make a move.’ If the ship belonged to Shevchenko, the move would come soon. It was too much of a coincidence that there was saffron travelling to London from Shoreham and Shevchenko’s groom was signalling ships off the Seacrest headlands. Justice was coming. He just had to wait for it. How convenient it would be if the man he thought to frame as a smuggler turned out to actually be one. Finally, something was going right.

  ‘We have time,’ Denning told his men. ‘That ship won’t make a move until tonight when it’s dark. We’ll send men back to keep an eye on it, though. Whatever move it makes, it won’t make it without us knowing.’ He reached into the boy’s pocket and retrieved the mirror. ‘Corporal, you may want this.’ It was possible he would be able to lure the ship in with a few flashes of false security. He gripped the boy by the collar and hauled him forward. ‘You can watch me eat breakfast and then decide how hungry you are.’

  ‘I won’t be hungry enough,’ the boy spat with admirable fire. Denning laughed. He would enjoy breaking this stubborn youth. He didn’t even realise how much he already knew. Getting the boy to talk would just be confirmation of what he already guessed. Today was going to be a good day, it might even be the day he brought Stepan Shevchenko down.

  ‘That’s all right, laddie. After breakfast, I have someone I’d like you to meet.’ The boy would soon learn his place. Street smarts were no match for military discipline, or military punishment. Denning was too intent on his plans as he led his captive away to notice the slight form of a boy hidden in the tall grasses of the bluff, curled up like a ginger-haired rabbit. When he’d gone, the boy crept away from his hiding place and ran.

  * * *

  ‘Milord! Milord! I must see milord! Please, it’s an emergency!’

  The panicked cries woke Stepan out of a sound sleep. Beside him, Anna stirred, warm and feminine in his arms, but there
was no time to savour the delight of that, or act on any of his plans from the night before. His body was on full alert at the sense of urgency. Only the boys from his land crew called him ‘milord’.

  He tossed back the covers and strode to the hallway, pulling a shirt over his head as he went. The voice sounded young and it was coming from the bottom of the stairs where a boy struggled with a half dressed footman.

  The boy looked up and saw him. ‘Milord!’

  ‘Let him be,’ Stepan directed the footman. It was Irish and Stepan’s heart pounded. ‘What has happened?’ He came down the stairs, ignoring the footman’s wide-eyed stare at his undress.

  ‘Joseph. Soldiers. The ship.’ The words tumbled out fast and incoherent in the boy’s fright.

  Stepan knelt by Irish, putting his hands on the boy’s arms to steady him, to support him. The boy’s teeth chattered from fright, excitement and cold. Wherever he had been, he was damp and chilled. ‘Come into the study where you can warm.’ To the footman, he gave a barrage of orders: ‘Stoke up the fire, bring tea and something hot to eat. Porridge if you have it.’

  ‘Now, tell me everything,’ he said to Irish once he was settled and his shaking was under control.

  ‘I was on night watch and I picked up a ship close to dawn. We thought nothing of it. We had no ships scheduled to arrive, but we checked it out anyway.’ The boy’s eyes went wide. ‘It was the Skorost, milord. The ship’s early. Joseph went out with me to signal it, to warn it off, but we weren’t the only ones watching the headlands. The captain’s men came upon us. Joseph took the mirror and shoved me in the grass to hide. He didn’t tell anyone I was there.’ The boy finished his report. ‘I wanted to fight them, milord, but Joseph said it wasn’t allowed, I was to stay hidden no matter what.’

  Stepan gave a half-smile. ‘You did right. Who would have told me if you’d been taken, too?’ His mind was reeling, trying to assimilate the information and what it all meant. The Skorost was early! Joseph taken! And Denning knew or was very close to knowing the Skorost was his. The captain would not overlook the coincidence.

  He’d not expected the ship until next week. This presented something of a problem, but not as large a problem as Joseph being taken. His land chief had taken an enormous risk in going out to signal the ship. Joseph had known the headlands were being watched. Yet Stepan knew the boy’s loyalty to him required him to try to save the ship.

  What did he do now? Did he try to get out to the Skorost? Did he rush into town and attempt to free Joseph before Denning could pry any information out of him?

  ‘What will happen to Joseph, milord?’

  He knew all too well what would happen to Joseph. Denning could be cruel. The memory of the man’s hands on Anna was still fresh in Stepan’s mind. A man who showed no restraint with a gentlewoman would show no restraint with a boy. His youth would not protect him. Stepan knew Joseph—the boy would resist, which would push Denning further. That decided it. He would go to town. He dismissed Irish with orders. ‘I will send word about how to handle the ship. Tell the others not to worry. I will get Joseph.’

  ‘How will you do that?’ a soft voice questioned him from the door as Irish left. Anna stood there, her hair loose at her shoulders, a dressing gown belted at her waist. She held out a banyan to him.

  She looked beautiful, tousled from loving and sleep, and Stepan’s heart gave a painful twist. This was the cost of having Anna for ever: subjecting her to danger at dawn and midnight escapades. As long as they were together, his secrets were her secrets. Even if she did not participate any further in his enterprise, her knowledge was enough to condemn her. He doubted Anna would leave it at that. It would be her argument to invite more danger. As long as she was here, as long as she was already condemned, she might as well go all the way—in for a penny, in for a pound. That was an argument he couldn’t allow her to win.

  Having her beside him made her an accomplice whether she chose to be one or not. It was why he’d kept Dimitri and the others at arm’s length. Ruslan probably guessed, but he was in France where English law could not hurt him. Dimitri and Nikolay had lives here, lives that could be ruined if they knew and he was caught. Ignorance protected them just as it had once protected Anna.

  His conscience mocked him. You wanted to know what it would cost to keep Anna with you? Well, now you know. It will cost her life and it will cost your honour. You’ve deflowered your best friend’s sister, you’ve exposed her to your smuggling ring and she’s been assaulted by a British officer. With you, she’s forced to live a double life: the life of a smuggler’s lady in Shoreham and a noblewoman’s life in London. She will be forced to wear two faces just as you do and she will never be able to stop.

  Just as he would never be able to stop.

  When he’d chosen to smuggle, to be a free trader in protest of the economic injustices of taxation, he’d committed a crime that could never be erased. It would always have to remain hidden. Stepan had never felt the enormity of that decision as he felt it now. It would define the rest of his life, what and who he could have. That included Anna.

  She came to him, concern creasing her brow. She touched his cheek. ‘What are you thinking? Let me help.’ Her body was warm, the heat of the bed still on her skin. She smelled of the scents of last night’s bath. Even with danger pressing, his body roused. He wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed and shut out the world. He wanted the impossible. He put his hands on her arms, gripping her through the silk of her robe, and swallowed hard.

  This was his penance, to have her only once. To have one night against all the other nights that would come. His foolish hopes of last night were just that—foolish hopes. He’d been weak and had allowed himself to buy into illusions. ‘Anna, I need you to leave. I need you to go home to Dimitri and forget all of this; forget about the cavern and what you saw there, forget the hidden staircase and the boys, and the ships.’

  ‘I can no more do that than you can simply decide to stop smuggling.’

  ‘No, I will send the ship away. You will be safe.’ Perhaps Anna had been right yesterday when she’d whispered her temptations. Perhaps it was time to give up his principles, give up the fight, after all. The costs were mounting along with the risks.

  Anna’s gaze hardened. ‘If you send the ship away, Denning wins. Tyranny wins. He is enforcing an unjust law and an unjust practice that favours the rich, just as you said. If you send the Skorost away, it solves nothing. Neither does sending me away.’ Her gaze did not waver. ‘The alcove, your kisses, the bath, and last night? They cannot be erased any more than my feelings or yours can.’

  He heard the temper simmering beneath her words. She was angry with him. His voice was low and stern. ‘Go to London, Anna, and find a powerful husband who can protect you far better than I can.’ It cut at his heart to order her away, to give her away, but what choice did he have if he wanted her safe?

  ‘You took my virginity,’ she argued. ‘There is nothing for me to offer a London gentleman now.’

  You took my heart, he wanted to reply, but it would give her too much ammunition. If she thought he prevaricated, they would both be lost.

  ‘You are beautiful, Anna. There will be a man willing to overlook such a thing.’ He was betting on that. Regret was coming hard and fast now. He should not have taken her to bed, he should not have given in. The least he could do now was atone for that by sending her to safety.

  ‘You are sending me away so you can do something foolish,’ Anna pressed on.

  ‘I am sending you away so I don’t have to worry about you. How can I think about my ship and my men if I am thinking about you?’ She would be an enormous distraction. Already, fears for her ran through his mind.

  ‘I can take care of myself. I thought we’d decided I wasn’t a little girl any more.’

  ‘What if Denning comes here and threatens you again? What if he wants you to reveal t
he caverns?’ That was his real fear, that his cause would claim the woman he loved.

  ‘I will not tell him anything.’ He could see she was insulted, but she didn’t understand the lengths Denning would go to.

  ‘He won’t ask nicely, Anna. What happens when he puts a knife to your throat? What if you give in?’ The boys would be betrayed. They would hang or face transportation. He saw Anna pale at the implication. He lowered his voice, his own fear causing it to crack. ‘And good God, Anna, what happens if you don’t? Do you think I want to come home and find you dead with your throat slit?’ It was an impossible dilemma.

  ‘What about me? What happens when you simply ride into town to free Joseph and Denning arrests you instead? Or worse, you trade yourself for him because there’s no other way. Am I supposed to sit at home in Little Westbury, not knowing what’s become of you? I am to be safe, but you are not?’ Her hands gripped the folds of his shirt. ‘I love you, Stepan Shevchenko, and when I went to bed with you, I did so knowing full well what you are and what you do. You can’t expect me not to be a part of that, to be a part of your life.’

  His heart broke a little bit more. ‘Anna, I don’t want you to be part of that life. If anything happened to you...’ This was what happened when one had people who cared for them, who said words like ‘I love you’. He would have to force her away.

  Anna moved past him to stand in front of the fire, taking up a station in the room. Her posture made it clear she would not be dismissed. Her eyes flashed. ‘First of all, you need me to help you with Denning. Second of all, we need a better plan than you riding into town for Joseph.’