My Angel (30 page)

He'd wanted her. When he held her close, she'd felt the evidence of his arousal against her belly. If anything, the heat of him against her--and knowing what he felt like deep inside her--had warmed her more thoroughly than the bathwater. He could have seduced her then, but he chose not to.

Why? she wondered. Was it the deep-seated honor and the code of loyalty he lived by? He'd made a promise to her, and now he meant to keep it.

Jasmine, his favorite perfume, floated with the steam to swirl around her. The door opened and closed. Alexi had returned. He padded barefoot around the room, hanging up her wet clothes then his own. Through the screen, she could see the outline of his body, watched as he disrobed and donned dry pants and a shirt.

"Angela?"

Alexi stepped around the screen, a huge bath sheet in hand. She moved lower into the tub, her hands covering her breasts. He looked concerned for her.

"You warm enough now?" he asked. He bent over and tested the bathwater. "The worst of the storm has passed by. You should snuggle down in the bed and warm yourself."

"Alexi?" She swallowed hard, unwilling to let go of her values, but wanting him so very much. If he touched her now, she'd come undone.

"No, you misunderstand; as much as I'd like to, I will not join you. I've too much to do topside." He chucked her under the chin and laughed softly. "You want me. I can tell."

She nodded, a tear suddenly slipping down her cheek. "But I won't give in to you. I deserve better than to be a man's plaything. I deserve to be your wife, and I'll settle for nothing less."

For a moment he stiffened, his breath held tight. Then his expression softened, his eyes growing warm with caring. "You would never be my plaything,'' he said softly, the backs of his knuckles brushing her cheek.

"In my eyes--"

"Hush. I would cherish you. When you come to realize how precious you are to me, life will be more satisfactory for both of us."

"You would do the same if I were your wife." She turned from him, unable to continue the discussion. It was a useless pastime. He had made up his mind and wouldn't budge. She felt him withdraw from her. His fingers clenched tight against the rim of the tub.

She sighed softly, her lashes closing as if she could shut the pain away. "I wish you could understand my point of view--my needs."

"Allah, but you are a stubborn woman. I could ask the same of you."

She felt an immediate need to defend herself.' 'You are twice as stubborn, arrogant, presumptuous... The list could go on, and still we would not be able to reach an agreement in this. I will not be your mistress--ever. The moment we reach land I will purchase passage home."

The pulse beneath his jaw jumped rapidly. "With what? You don't have enough money and I will not give you any for that purpose."

"If I'm a whore, I could always sell my favors."

With a fierceness she'd never seen before, he lifted her from the water. He held her at eye level, her breasts pushed against his chest, her feet dangling in midair.

"Never!" Sweeping her into his arms he strode to the bed. They fell upon it.

He held her there with his eyes and his body. Petrified, she could not move, could barely breathe. "You will not sell your favors to anyone," he told her coldly. He did not touch her. He hovered over her, his expression fierce, his eyes determined. "Do you hear me?"

"To anyone but you?" she countered. "Isn't that what you expect me to do? Sell my body to you? In return you will lavish me with gifts." She was shaking, so unnerved by the man she saw above her. She had pushed him too far. She knew it the moment the words were out of her mouth.

"A wife sells herself for respectability and a name. You, I would love and adore with every part of my heart and soul forever." She tried to turn her face away. The pain she saw in his eyes was more than she could bear.

"You have the roles reversed," she told him, trying to maintain some level of rationality when she wanted to yell and scream at him.

"No," he said, and rose from the bed. "I don't." He walked the length of the room and back again, not pausing even a moment to look at her. His hands raked through his damp hair until it stood on end.

Angela buried herself beneath the covers of the bed and watched in silent dismay. Finally he stopped in front of the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and watched the rolling ocean, the calming weather.

Silence dragged on for what seemed an eternity. She could not stop herself from looking at him, could not stop wishing he'd believe her.

The door opened, light from the hallway spilling into the cabin.

"Alexi?" Misha's voice called out. "There are men who need you. The captain has fixed our location and would like to know where you want to put into port for repairs."

"Coming," Alexi said. Before he left, he walked to her and, kneeling by the bed, ran his fingers along her jaw. "A very determined jaw you have." He closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Sleep, little one. You need to rest. Please do not fear me. I would never hurt you." His voice was gentle and full of grave concern. "Soon you will understand that I want only the best for you--for the two of us."

Angela knew his words for the lie they were. He had already hurt her deeply. Nothing he could ever do, save marry her, could heal the pain he'd inflicted upon her. Worst of all, he didn't understand, might never understand.

~ * ~

The clock chimed midnight before Feodora collected enough courage to leave her bedroom and make her way down the narrow servants' staircase to the outside. With each step the wooden planks creaked and groaned their protest.

She held her breath, thrilled with the excitement. Before this night ended, she'd have Ivan in the palm of her hand. She'd have him begging for her favors.

Her heart sped out of control with anticipation of Ivan's big, strong arms around her and the delightful things she knew he'd do to her. He was the best lover she'd ever had. Her insides quivered like jelly with the thought of seeing him naked. She'd never seen him completely bare, but tonight she meant to see all of him. She giggled.

Deep inside her most feminine parts she ached and dampened with desire for him. He'd put every other man she'd known, intimately or not, to shame. Thoughts of him driving into her, licking and nipping her breasts and her secret feminine folds drove her wild with desire.

Sweet Jesus, but she could hardly stand the wicked anticipation. It had taken all the control she had to wait for Natasha to finally go to bed. Then watching the hands on the clock for the entire hour she gave herself just to make sure no one would see her leave had her hot and panting with need. She was ready for him right now.

She risked a great deal. Of course, that was part of the thrill.

She touched a finger to her lips and let her tongue moisten the tip, thinking of Ivan and the little drop of moisture that would inevitably spill from his shaft just before he drove inside and satisfied her. She ran the palms of her hands across her breasts, keeping her flesh sensitive and alive with the heady passion she felt for him.

Outside the house a sliver of moon sat low on the horizon, giving little light. She didn't need light, the path to Ivan's bed ingrained in her memory.

Looking both ways and seeing no one, she lifted her skirt and dashed across the back lawn to the darkened stables. Ivan would have doused the lights, but he'd be up waiting for her. She pictured him in his bed, naked, his hands behind his head, a knowing grin on his gorgeous face.

Another giggle slipped from her at the surprise she had planned for him. Her bare nipples swelled and budded against the silk shirt she wore. She wanted to touch herself again but decided to wait for the master's caress. At the thought of Ivan stroking her, her stomach muscles and those farther down clenched tightly. Her body felt swollen and damp with need.

She slipped through the stable to the back room where Ivan slept and ate. The room smelled of hot coffee and wild male animal. The door stood open, the bed vacant. She gasped, frightened for a moment by the hand that closed over her mouth.

"Be still. It's only me," Ivan told her, his warm breath whispering softly across her heated skin.

She'd know his voice and the feel of his powerful chest anywhere. He smelled like unleashed power and hot desire, and she loved his wild virility. She leaned into him, pressing her back against his chest, letting his forearm rub against her breasts. His thumb caressed her lips, and one finger ran down the column of her neck.

She shivered, her womanly impulses quivering with anticipation of the erotic delights awaiting. Her tongue flicked out to touch the palm of his hand, and she delighted in the masculine rumble deep inside his chest.

With his free hand, he flicked open the buttons on her blouse, her breasts spilling free. He turned his attention to the fastenings on her skirt. After a few seconds, the fabric pooled on the ground. She stood before him naked, completely exposed and vulnerable.

He would never be able to resist her siren's call.

"Are you still intent on marrying Alexi?" Ivan asked, his breath hot and sultry against her cheek, his tongue gently exploring her ear, tracing the shell she'd exposed by pulling her hair back. He nipped her ear.

She groaned, pressing herself closer to him, reveling hi the unleashed power of the man.

"Are you?" he asked again after several minutes of silence. He tongued kisses down her throat, across her shoulder. With both hands he lifted her breasts, pushing them together, caressing them with the callused pads of his fingers.