Secret Fire

by Johanna Lindsey

  “As a matter of fact—”

  Dimitri couldn’t contain himself a moment longer. That she had let him hold her this long gave him such encouragement that he was on the brink of ripping her clothes off. He kissed her, so intensely, so thoroughly, that the result was inevitable, though he didn’t know it yet. His hand came up to caress her breast, and he groaned, feeling the hard, tiny nub forming beneath the material.

  Her moan was caught in his mouth, trapped with his. Oh, God, she had missed him, missed the way his kisses turned her to jelly, missed the way his hands set her afire, the way his eyes could thrill her with a look. And his body, his beautiful, hard, exciting body, and what it could do to her. She had missed that too. There was no point in denying it any more. She loved making love with him. And she wanted to now.

  “Dim—Dimi—Dimitri! Let me catch my breath.”

  “No, not this time.”

  He continued kissing her fiercely, and Katherine felt warmed all over from the sheer joy of realizing that he was afraid, this powerful, strong man, afraid that she wanted to stop him. She cupped his face in her hands gently to hold him back, her eyes smiling into his.

  “Take me to the sofa, Dimitri.”

  “The sofa?”

  “This chair is a mite inconvenient at the moment, don’t you think?”

  As understanding dawned on him, such a look of wonder and pure delight crossed his face that Katherine nearly cried. She thought she was going to be dumped on the floor, he stood up so quickly, but no, she was held firmly in his arms and a moment later, laid carefully down on the velvet sofa, which was as comfortable as any bed.

  On his knees beside her, already fighting the buttons on his jacket, Dimitri paused only once. “You’re sure, Katya—no, no, don’t answer that.”

  He kissed her again before she could, but Katherine gave him an answer anyway by wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kiss with total abandon. She knew exactly what she was doing. Drugs weren’t needed to stimulate her desire. Dimitri did that all on his own. He was the man she loved despite all misgivings, the father of her unborn child, the man she was going to marry. The particulars could be worked out later. There was plenty of time. Now was the time for their reunion.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  With snow whirling outside the windows and the fire burning in the great hearth, the large drawing room seemed more like a cozy nook, especially with the sofa facing the fire, close enough to receive its warmth directly. It was late afternoon, according to the clock on the mantel. Distantly there was the sound of a cat mewling, a door closing somewhere in the house, a carriage whisking by out front. Close up was only the sound of the fire crackling and Dimitri’s heart beating.

  Katherine was in no hurry to disturb the intimacy of the moment. She lay half on the edge of the sofa and half on Dimitri. There wasn’t very much room, but she didn’t feel as if she would fall. Far from it. Dimitri’s arm around her back, holding her close to him, was warm and secure.

  At the moment, he had taken her hand from where she had been idly tracing a path through the mat of golden hairs on his chest and was kissing each finger, an erotic experience, since he also chose to nibble and suck on them as well. Katherine simply watched him, her eyes half closed, fascinated by what his tongue and lips and teeth on her sensitive fingertips were making her feel.

  “If you don’t stop it, little one, I am going to have to make love to you again.” Dimitri startled her with his husky voice.

  “Me? What am I doing?”

  “Looking at me with those sensuous eyes of yours. That is really all it takes, you know,”

  “Nonsense,” Katherine scoffed, but she couldn’t help smiling. “And what about what you’re doing? If you don’t stop it”—she gave the same warning—“I’m going to have to—”

  “Promise?”

  Katherine laughed. “You are incorrigible.”

  “What do you expect when I have denied myself this pleasure all these months?”

  “Now why do I believe that?” Katherine said in some surprise.

  “Because it’s true…and because I have quite proved to you these last few hours how great was my need. Haven’t I? Or do you need more proof?”

  “Dimitri!” She giggled as he rolled her beneath him. But she found he wasn’t teasing as he entered her, quickly and deeply. “Dimitri.” His name was a sigh now, just before she reached up to capture his kiss.

  When Katherine’s breathing returned to normal awhile later, she was about to make a comment on Dimitri’s insatiability, but he beat her to it.

  “You are going to be the death of me, woman.”

  “There you go exaggerating again.” She laughed. “Why, I can recall two separate occasions when your stamina was quite remarkable.”

  He glanced down at her in surprise. “And appreciated, perhaps?”

  “At the time, certainly, which isn’t to say I couldn’t have done without such experiences. I much prefer my own spontaneity and freedom of choice.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She had brought up the druggings and without the slightest trace of anger. She had forgiven him. And she was admitting that this time was by her choice. She was admitting she had wanted him.

  Sweet Christ, how many times he had fantasized about hearing just such a confession from her. “Do you know how happy you make me, Katya?”

  It was Katherine’s turn to be surprised, he sounded so sincere. “Do I?”

  “For so long I have wanted to hold you like this, to kiss you.” He did. “I have ached with the need to touch you, to love you. This is where you belong, Katya, here in my arms. And I am going to do everything in my power to persuade you to remain in Russia permanently. I will do anything to convince you that you belong with me.”

  “Is—is that a proposal?” Katherine whispered hesitantly, incredulously.

  “I want you with me always.”

  “But is that a proposal, Dimitri?” she asked more firmly.

  Damn! “Katya, you know I can’t marry you. You know what it is I am asking.”

  Katherine tensed, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of her. Having her temper rear its ugly head while she was in this intimate position didn’t help.

  “Let me up, Dimitri.”

  “Katya, please—”

  “Blast you, let me up!”

  She pushed hard enough to slide out from under him and scrambled to a sitting position. Her hair hit him in the face when she swung around to face him again. Her nudity and vulnerability were her least concern.

  “I want my children to have a father, Dimitri,” she said without preamble.

  “I will cherish your children.”

  “That’s not the same thing, and you know it. I’m good enough to be your mistress but not your wife, is that it? Do you know how insulting that is?”

  “Insulting? No, not when I couldn’t care less about a wife, when she is only the means to get an heir and fulfill my obligations. You I care about. I want you to be part of my life.”

  She glared at him, but her anger was slipping away. God, he knew just what to say to tug on the strings of her heart. She loved him. What he wanted was what she wanted, to be a part of his life. His callousness about a wife was…well, she would pity his wife—if that wife wasn’t herself. She wasn’t giving up. She had five months until spring to become necessary to him, to make him more than care about her, to make him love her so much that he would defy the society that said a prince couldn’t marry a commoner, as he thought her to be. Let him be surprised later to find she was his social equal.

  She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, and he caught it, kissing the palm. “I’m sorry,” she offered softly. “I forget you have your obligations. But when my first child comes along, Dimitri, I intend to be married. If not to you, then to someone else.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No!” he said with finality, drawing her tightly to him. “You aren’t marry
ing, ever.”

  Katherine said nothing to such fierce possessiveness. She just smiled, glad now that she hadn’t told him that she was already expecting her first child, though he would be able to figure that out for himself very shortly. And when he did, let him remember what she had said, that she would have a husband, one way or another. A nice bluff, but of course he wouldn’t know that.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The ball gown was exquisite, like nothing Katherine would ever have chosen for herself. A dark, lustrous turquoise satin, with a white lace insert in the bodice and hundreds of pearls running in streamers down the bell-like skirt. It was flamboyant, a deeply scooped neckline ending off the shoulders, the lace draping over little puffed sleeves. It wasn’t Katherine. She felt like a fairy princess wearing it.

  Her hair had been parted in the middle and pulled back sleekly to side ringlets in the current style, with pearl ornaments attached. Every accessory had been included: the long white gloves, the satin shoes in the same shimmering turquoise, even a white lace fan to dangle from her wrist. And Dimitri had come in earlier to hand her a jewelry case containing the pearl-and-diamond necklace, earrings, and ring she now wore, as well as another collection in sapphires and emeralds, so that she would have a choice, he said. Trifles, he called them. He said the same of her winter wardrobe. Several gowns had arrived today along with the ball gown, the rest to be delivered soon.

  He was treating her like a mistress already, she realized, but the thought didn’t disturb her. It wouldn’t be long before none of the clothes he had ordered for her would fit, and then she would be amused to see how he would treat her. She turned around before the full-length mirror, taking particular notice of her waistline. It was still as slim as ever, and in that she was fortunate, being three and a half months along. Only her breasts had filled out a little, but again, nothing noticeable yet, nothing to alert Dimitri that he would soon have one of the children he claimed he would cherish.

  Oh, you are in for a surprise, my prince. Soon you will know why my sentiments have changed so drastically.

  Of course she wouldn’t be so blasé about her situation if she were home in England. That would be a different story entirely. But as long as she was here, why couldn’t she enjoy herself for the time being? After all, she no longer had to worry about getting pregnant.

  Katherine smiled to herself, glancing about her new bedroom once more before she left it. Once again she had been given the room that would normally belong to the lady of the house, and it was pure luxury in every detail. But she had not slept here last night. Her smile widened. She doubted she would sleep here tonight either.

  Oh, it had been heaven, sheer heaven, spending the whole night with Dimitri, sleeping in his arms and waking to find him still beside her. And to be greeted by one of his devastating smiles before she had even cleared the sleep from her eyes, and a kiss, which led to other things… She had no doubt that she had made the right choice. She was happy. That was all that mattered for now.

  He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, holding out a magnificent white ermine cloak lined in white satin, which he draped around her shoulders before handing her the matching muff.

  “You’re spoiling me, Dimitri.”

  “That is the idea, little one,” he replied quite seriously, his smile warm, his eyes dark in appreciation of the picture she presented.

  He was resplendent himself in another uniform, this jacket white, with heavy gold epaulets on his shoulders, gold-embroidered collar, and the blue cordon of the Order of St. Andrew draped across his chest, the medal worn for no reason other than to impress Katherine. Yet Dimitri was the one impressed, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as he helped her out to the carriage and as they drove the few blocks to the ball he was taking her to.

  She was exquisite in her finery, and he was vividly reminded of the portrait Anastasia had painted of her, which now hung in his study and which caused him such unease every time he looked at it. No one was going to mistake this woman for a servant, actress, or whatever she was—not looking like this. Nor would he have formed his conception of her status if he had first seen her like this, which made him realize that it was no more than clothes and circumstances that had convinced him she was not who she claimed to be. And what if he was wrong? A tight knot of misgiving formed in his belly. No, he couldn’t be. But perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to take Katherine to such a large gathering this first time she was appearing in public.

  He had wanted to please her, to show her off, to do as Vasili had suggested and treat her like a lady instead of keeping her hidden behind closed doors. But suddenly he was afraid to share her. Suddenly he wanted to keep her locked away all for himself.

  “I assume you will introduce me to people, Dimitri. So tell me, who am I to be?”

  Had she read his thoughts? “Who you say you are—Katherine St. John.”

  “That isn’t exactly how I would put it, but if that is how you intend to introduce me, then I suppose it wouldn’t be polite to correct you.”

  She was teasing him. Why was she teasing him, and about her identity, of all things? “Katya, are you sure you wish to go to this affair?”

  “And not show off this divine gown? Why, it’s been ages since my last ball. Of course I want to go.”

  There she was again, dropping little tidbits about her life that couldn’t possibly be true, yet she said such things spontaneously, without thought, without reason, just in the natural course of a conversation. The carriage stopped before he could make up his mind whether to disappoint her and take her home or hope for the best. Knowing Katherine’s outspokenness, she was bound to step on a few toes tonight, and speculation about her was going to run rampant. What if she lost her temper here?

  “You do know how… I mean, you wouldn’t cause—”

  “What are you worried about, Dimitri?” Katherine grinned at him, having an idea what was suddenly bothering him.

  “It’s nothing,” he replied evasively, lifting her down to the ground. “Come along. I don’t want you catching cold out here.”

  He ushered her inside a huge mansion, where they turned their furs over to a waiting footman, then mounted an ornate double staircase to the ballroom upstairs. If there had been a reception line, it had been dispensed with by this hour. Their hosts were the first to greet them, stopping them just inside the wide doorway, and as Dimitri had warned, he introduced her as Katherine St. John.

  Katherine was impressed when she got a moment to look around. The room was tremendously large, an actual ballroom rather than several rooms converted into one, and a half-dozen chandeliers created a dazzling display of light, reflecting on what surely must have been several million rubles’ worth of jewelry. Out of some two hundred guests, half were dancing, others gathered about the sides of the room, talking in groups or pairs, or wandering to and from the refreshment tables set up at the end of the long room.

  A liveried servant came by with a tray of drinks, but Katherine declined for now. Dimitri took one and drained it, setting the empty glass back on the tray. Katherine couldn’t help smiling.

  “Nervous, Dimitri?”

  “What could I possibly be nervous about?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that I might embarrass you here among your friends. After all, what could a simple peasant possibly know about comporting herself in such august company? Dress her up in a pretty gown, but she is still just a peasant, right?”

  He didn’t know what to make of her mood. She wasn’t angry. Her expression was lit with humor. But her teasing was drawing blood nonetheless.

  “Mitya, why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight? I would have—oh, am I interrupting?”

  “No, Vasya, nothing that can’t wait until later,” Dimitri replied with relief. “Katherine, may I present Prince Vasili Dashkov?”

  “Katherine?” Vasili gave her a brief glance, then his eyes widened considerably as he turned back to Dimitri. “Not the Katherine! But
I was expecting… I mean…” At Dimitri’s scowl, he stopped altogether, flushing.

  “You’ve rather put your foot in it, Prince Dashkov, haven’t you?” Katherine said pointedly. “Let me guess. Since Dimitri has obviously told you about me, you were expecting someone with a little more brilliance to her plumage perhaps? But then we can’t all be ravishing beauties, my lord, more’s the pity. Your amazement at Dimitri’s interest in me is no greater than my own, I assure you.”

  “Katya, please, you’ll have my friend here cutting out his tongue in a minute to satisfy you. He doesn’t realize you’re teasing him.”

  “Nonsense, Dimitri. He knows I’m teasing. He’s just embarrassed for dismissing me at first glance.”

  “A mistake I would never make again, dear lady, I swear to God!” Vasili assured her emphatically.

  Katherine couldn’t help herself. She laughed delightedly, enchanting Vasili into a new awareness of her. Dimitri was likewise affected by the merry sound. He loved to hear her laughter, even if it did fill him with a warmth that was wholly out of place here.

  He drew her near to him, his arm fitting snugly around her waist, and whispered huskily into her ear, “Any more of that, little heart, and you will have me in the predicament I usually find myself in with you—wanting a bed with none near at hand.”

  She looked up at Dimitri, surprised to see that he was serious, and blushed so becomingly that he bent to kiss her, uncaring of where they were and who was watching. Vasili’s dry wit stopped him.

  “I’m going to save you from making a lovesick fool of yourself, Mitya, by dancing with your lady. That is, if you don’t mind?”

  “I do,” Dimitri said tersely.

  “But I don’t,” Katherine added, stepping out of Dimitri’s embrace to smile warmly at Vasili. “However, I must warn you that certain people would tell you I can’t possibly know how to dance, Prince Dashkov. Are you willing to risk your feet to learn the truth of the matter?”