RUSSIAN WINTER NIGHTS (4 page)

“Ready now?”

He stepped forward along the passageway, but as soon as she began to follow, her overskirt dropped in a heap to the ground. Andrey glanced over his shoulder, a wicked gleam in his eye. Ekaterina grinned, accepting the unspoken challenge. They made their way slowly though the maze of passages, breathing easier when it widened into a narrow corridor with skylights above to light the way. It truly was an intricate system, and Ekaterina could almost see Andrey mapping it out in his head.

That simply would not do.

They rounded a bend in the passage, and Ekaterina suddenly shoved Andrey into the wall, her eyes shining. She grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and pulled him down for a searing kiss. He responded in kind, grabbing at her plain shift. But Ekaterina would not be outdone; her small hands worked furiously at the buttons of his shirt. She pulled the offending material away, exposing his sculpted abdomen. Her hands wandered over his chest and then over his shoulders and down his arms. The shirt fell to the floor.

And then she pulled away. She looked him over once and then turned and flounced away. Andrey groaned and followed her determinedly.

He caught her at a short flight of stairs, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her from behind. He spun them around and sat, pulling her down so that she was straddling his knees. He laved her neck with kisses while pushing up her underskirts and grabbed her bottom, pulling her flush against his heat. With one hand holding her fast, he pushed up her undershirt and cupped a breast. He teased her erect peaks with his tongue, smirking when she undulated above him, lost in the sensation. He took the opportunity to quickly pull her shirt over her head and toss it down the stairs. He met her playful glare with a grin—now they were both half-naked. He wore only his trousers, and she her underskirt. He stood, helping her to her feet.

“Almost there,” he smiled.

She inclined her head, the double meaning not lost on her. They continued on their way, their fingers loosely entwined. Every now and again they would cast each other lascivious glances. Ekaterina grew bold, her jaunty gait causing her pert breasts to bounce ever so slightly with every step. Andrey’s nostrils flared with desire, and he unobtrusively flexed his arm and chest muscles while walking...which made Ekaterina stare openly, her jaw slightly slack.

Their game of seduction continued...until they turned a corner to face a final door.

“I think this is the door to the corridor leading to the kitchens,” Andrey said, placing his hand against the thick panel.

He turned to Ekaterina, his eyes serious.

“Shall we finish this?” he asked.

“We can’t go outside like this,” Ekaterina said, gesturing to their lack of clothes.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

* * *

Andrey pulled her close, his hands slowly travelling down the length of her body until they reached the waistband of her underskirt. His eyes locked on hers, he slowly pushed the skirt down, leaving her last piece of clothing to pool at her feet. Then, he stepped away. She blushed beautifully as he slowly looked her up and down, the lusty admiration in his eyes plain as day. She wanted to raise her arms to cover herself, but resisted the urge. Let him look, she thought resolutely.

But Andrey didn’t just want to look. He closed the distance between them and began showering her with heady kisses. His lips travelled from her face to her neck then to her bare shoulders. He slowly sank to his knees, worshipping every available inch of her body with his tongue and lips. He painted a story of desire on her body; he was the artist, and she was his canvas.

Ekaterina sighed in pleasure, lost for words. Her heart swelled with emotion. Outside, their love was forbidden, and if anyone even saw them exchange a knowing look, their lives would be in danger. But here, and only here, were they safe, hidden away in their own private passageway. And so Ekaterina gave herself over to their shared passion, indulging in the few moments they had together. After all, who knew when they would be so free again?

When finally Andrey paused to look up, she was flushed with pleasure, her skin tingling and moist. She eased down to kneel with him and covered his face with soft kisses.

“Is it my turn now?” she asked playfully, pulling away.

Delight lit Andrey’s face, and he slowly stood. He reached for the buckles on his trousers, but Ekaterina batted his hands away and pulled them open herself. With a quick tug, his trousers hit the floor, and he sprang free—tall, thick and pulsing with desire. Curiosity overwrote modesty, and Ekaterina slowly reached out to touch the bulging tip with a fingertip. She slowly covered his shaft with her palm. Then, she experimentally pumped her hand, slowly stroking the velvet skin. Andrey nearly doubled over. Ekaterina watched as he swelled even more, the taut flesh growing even harder under her touch. But before she could do more, Andrey caught her wrist and pulled her up.

“Not yet,” he grunted. “I’ve not finished with you yet.”

His mouth was hot on hers and he pulled her naked body flush against his. He delighted in her passionate sighs and her sweet scent before gently lowering her to her back on the ground. His fingers drew a tantalising path from her chin, stopping to tweak her caramel peaks before circling her navel. Hooking one of her knees over his shoulder, he tenderly planted soft kisses to the underside of her knee up to her inner thigh. Her breathing hitched, her scent becoming heady with need.

Murmuring mindless reassurances, Andrey dipped one long finger lower, coating it in her sweet nectar before sliding it inside her core. Ekaterina twisted in pleasure, her back arching off the floor. Andrey slowly withdrew and pushed back in, his thumb rubbing small, coaxing circles around the pearl of her body as he did. When she began to buck in wild, passionate abandon, he pulled his fingers away. Her complaining cry quickly turned into a low moan of pleasure as he positioned himself above her, his tip at her entrance. Bracing himself against the floor, he pushed himself in slowly, marvelling at how she constricted around him. She grabbed blindly for his shoulders, her nails digging into his muscled back as he began to thrust. His breathing grew ragged as he upped his pace, and Ekaterina began to writhe in pleasure beneath him.

They were close, so close...and then there were voices from outside the panel.

They stopped suddenly, eyes whipping around to the panel. Though muffled, they could both hear the sound of maids talking, their voices growing louder as they drew near. Ekaterina was about to slide away from Andrey when she felt him cover her mouth with his large hand.

“We’re not done, my Lady,” he murmured. “But you must be quieter.”

She was about to protest, but he resumed his fervent rocking, and her eyes rolled back instead. Their bodies came together with the sharp slap of skin on skin, and Ekaterina could barely focus on keeping the bubbling scream of pleasure down. Her body hummed with ecstasy, and she bit down on the heel of his palm to keep from crying out.

And still the voices grew louder.

Andrey stared down at her with his bright green eyes, his thrusts never wavering. His jaw grew tight, and his rhythm grew frantic. He leaned closer, his other hand anchoring her hip to the floor and his eyes promising something more. Their breathing came in short gasps, sweat glistening on their skin.

Finally the voices faded out of earshot.

Andrey pulled his hand away, grabbed her hips with both hands and plunged in so deep that they both screamed in bliss, their voices echoing down the secret corridors. The world exploded in light and pleasure as they rode out the high together, toes curled and backs arched. Finally spent, they collapsed limply in a tangle of moist limbs, Ekaterina’s thighs quivering around his hips. It seemed an eternity before they could manage the strength to stand, and they had to hold each other tight to ward off the sudden chill.

Ekaterina began to giggle from where she was ensconced in Andrey’s muscular arms. He turned a sceptical eye on her, and she laughed outright.

“We can’t go out like this!” she said again.

“Well,” Andrey said reasonably, “I suppose we’ll just have to make our way back to my suite.”

“Collecting our clothes like breadcrumbs on a trail.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding sagely. “I suppose so.”

They picked themselves up and slowly made their way back through the tunnels, donning the clothes they had abandoned along the way. They teased and kissed like young lovers would, relishing the amorous attention. It was sweet. It was lovely.

But it couldn’t last.

Ekaterina only allowed herself to realise that fact much later, when she was safely back in her royal suite, alone with her thoughts. No, she told herself, they would never be safe to be together as long as they were under her aunt’s thumb. Andrey was in danger. Her whole family was in danger.

But there was one thing she could do.

Ekaterina pulled out paper and ink. Dipping her quill into the inkwell, she formulated a plan. And then she began to write.

Chapter Five

It was Christmas Eve, and the Empress was hosting a grand ball in the newly unveiled Hall of Light. Ekaterina wandered through the crowd of guests, completely surrounded yet completely alone. She didn’t really mind. She was content to bask in the beauty of the fruition of Andrey’s planning and hard work—his ultimate creation.

During their few and precious stolen moments together, he had alternated lavishing her with sensuality and describing his ongoing project. Rastrelli had given him free rein, and Andrey had created the pinnacle of beauty in the Catherine Palace. Ekaterina’s heart swelled with pride; this hall would be a place remembered for generations to come.

True to its moniker, the hall glowed golden with reflected light. The walls and ceilings were covered in mirrors, each framed in polished gold. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the floor was done in two-tone marble. It was a masterpiece of architecture.

Ekaterina aimlessly admired each gilded frame; they were unique yet unified in design, and she marvelled at the attention to detail. Besides, it distracted her from the spectacle at the other end of the hall. Her aunt sat poised on a golden throne, and Andrey was seated on a cushioned stool to her right. Ekaterina tried to avoid sneaking glances their way, only slightly mollified by Andrey’s stiff composure. She gritted her teeth and turned away once again as her aunt continued to fawn all over him. She couldn’t be angry with him, since neither really had a choice in the matter. When the Empress called for his company, he had no choice but to attend to her. So far he’d been able to fend off her amorous advances, but there was no telling when her aunt would tire of the endless game.

* * *

Meanwhile at the head of the Hall of Light, Andrey was fighting the urge to slap the Empress’s hand away. She was clinging to him once again, and he felt nothing but revulsion for the woman who so tormented her subjects. But there were niceties to be observed in order to stay alive, so he managed a few tight smiles and curt nods to satisfy her. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a woman.

Ekaterina.

She was clad in a stunning scarlet gown trimmed with gold, her midnight hair tumbling freely over her pale shoulders. He subtly followed her movement across the hall, watching as she paused before each of his individually inspired creations. Sometimes, she would reach out to run a fingertip over the design, her blue eyes awed. It gratified him to watch her admiring his work, making the evening somewhat bearable.

The musicians suddenly struck up a familiar tune. The guests hurriedly rushed to take up dancing positions on either end of the hall.

Ah
, Andrey thought,
here is my chance.

He stood and offered his hand to the Empress.

“Would you care to dance, Empress?” he invited with a bow.

“Oh, no,” she answered with a pout and a dismissive wave of her hand. “I prefer to watch these types of things.”

Of course you do
, he thought rather uncharitably.
You can hardly walk since gorging yourself silly.

“Then let me entertain you,” he said instead.

Andrey hurried to take up a dancing spot, trying not to appear overly eager to get away. He caught Ekaterina’s eye from across the hall, where she had also snuck into position. He risked a quick wink. And then the dance began.

It took a while for them to reach each other, but when they finally did, they enjoyed a few moments of sheer bliss. Their eyes met, their hands touched and they swayed around the ballroom, all of a sudden in a world of their own. Andrey discreetly bent forward to brush his lips across the shell of her ear, her fingers tightly clasped in his. She smiled as they shared a lingering look...and then the moment was over as the song ended. Ekaterina dropped gracefully into a deep curtsy, acknowledging Andrey’s formal bow with a slight tilt of her dainty chin.

Andrey could not look away, much less step back. He knew he should return to the Empress’s side; he knew he should tear his eyes away; he
knew
he was courting trouble just by being within a few feet of the Empress’s niece. But with an electric tingle singing in his ears, he dared to take a step forward instead of back. Ekaterina’s head shot up, a clear warning in her worried eyes. Andrey simply shook his head and held out a hand...just as the band began to play another waltz. Ekaterina hesitantly stepped back into his embrace, pressing her slender fingers into his palm. He whirled her around the room in time to the music, his heart pounding in his ears. He ached to pull her closer, but etiquette clearly dictated that they keep their distance as they danced. And so he focused on her tiny hand in his and on the feel of her arm lightly resting on his shoulder as they swayed to the sweet music. His eyes traced the gleam of her hair, the elegant sweep of her pale neck and the slight heave of her chest. He wondered if she was feeling the same rush of adrenalin and desire that he was. He risked a glance at her face; she was flushed, her eyes bright. He smirked.

“Ekaterina,” he murmured under his breath. “Do you see the mirrors between the windows?”

She glanced around and gave him a quick nod. There were large oblong mirrors edged in gold all around the hall.

“I want to you to look straight at them all. What do you see?”

Ekaterina frowned, her eyes darting from mirror to mirror. It was strange; when she looked head on into each mirror, she didn’t see herself. No, instead she saw the reflection of part of the ceiling.
How odd
, she thought to herself. She wondered if Andrey had tilted the mirrors to accentuate the light.

“The ceiling?” she whispered back.

“What in the ceiling?”

Ekaterina’s brows knotted as she tried to focus on the reflection in each mirror. Each was exactly the same. Her eyes widened as recognition dawned.

Every mirror reflected a golden sculpture of lovers entwined in a sweet embrace. But it wasn’t just any pair of lovers; no, she saw her own face in the golden statuette. Hers and his. Andrey had immortalised their secret kiss in the ceiling of the Hall of Light. Ekaterina could not contain her gasp of surprise and delight.

“What have you done?” she breathed, feeling both flattered and terrified.

“I have made us untouchable,” he replied quietly, meeting her eyes defiantly. “And you will always remember what we have together when you come to the Hall of Light.”

“You daring, clever fool,” she whispered. “You take too many risks!”

But even as Ekaterina reprimanded him, she felt a surge of exhilaration and desire course through her veins. She considered his square, determined jawline and his serious eyes. She wanted to show him how much she appreciated this clever gesture of devotion, this subtle rebellion against the Empress. But what could she do? Certainly not a kiss, nor a hug. Perhaps...

Her heart swelling, Ekaterina squeezed his hand. Then, with the hand that lay on his shoulder, she slid her palm up so that she could gently stroke his neck with the tips of her fingers.

* * *

Andrey stifled a groan and a shudder. It wasn’t much, but this brief illicit touch in the centre of the Hall of Light gave him strength—strength enough perhaps to survive the night.

At least that’s what he believed, until Empress Anna rose and clapped her hands, ending the dance abruptly. The courtiers spun to a halt, all eyes on the Empress. A feeling of dread knotted in Andrey’s stomach as he watched her rise from her chair, a cruel smirk lifting her lips. She beckoned to him with one curling finger, and he fought the urge to stay rooted to his spot. But the Empress was not one to be openly defied, so he begrudgingly headed back towards the dais. As soon as he reached her side, she looped her hand through his elbow and addressed the waiting crowd.

“Christmas is upon us,” she announced, her voice echoing in the hall. “And I have an extra special treat for all of you today. As you know, my niece has recently joined my Winter Court, and she is still unmarried.”

The Empress paused to fix her rival with a malicious smirk. Ekaterina suddenly felt light-headed, as if she were floating away. She stared up at her aunt, eyes wide in shock and dismay.

“Aunt,” she announced, forcing her voice not to tremble. “I believe I shall retire for the evening. Please excuse me.”

“Now, now,” her aunt said disapprovingly. “You’re going to play my game whether you like it or not, my dear!”

Empress Anna snapped her fingers, and a line of aristocratic bachelors marched out onto the dais in single file. Ekaterina’s throat closed in dread. She knew all of these men by name. Captain Boris Zukov, a ruthless military man. Count Vitaly, who once beat a servant to the verge of death for dropping a cup. Igor of the North, known for torturing his mistresses once he tired of them. Her ribs felt like constricting bands of steel as she took in the sight of each cruel, malicious man.

These are my suitors
, she realised as panic shredded her stomach.

Anna grabbed Andrey’s sleeve and leaned her cheek against his. Her breath was hot and rancid against his skin.

“Let this be a lesson to you, foolish boy,” she muttered under her breath. “No one steals from me and gets away from it unscathed.”

Andrey felt frozen in place, as if he might be shattered by his hammering heart. His eyes found Ekaterina’s, whose face had gone blank.

“My dearest niece, you have been dallying among the wildflowers for too long. So I have assembled this group of suitable men for you,” her aunt bellowed. “And I demand that you choose a husband from these suitors by the end of tomorrow’s Christmas celebrations.”

To be shackled to one of these barbarians
...

“Aunt,” Ekaterina protested, “surely—”

“If you don’t choose a husband,” she warned, interrupting, “I will choose for you and send you, married, back to your father’s house tomorrow night.” She paused, her smile sharp. “And if I have to send my favourite niece away, I don’t believe I will very much care for this bright room any longer. Nor the man who designed it.”

The thinly veiled threat hung in the air between the lovers. She was to be condemned to a life of violence and servitude no matter what—and if she did not willingly walk into that trap, the Empress would damn them both.