Luring A Lady
Page 39
"Love?" Stunned, Margerite reared back. "Now I know you've taken leave of your senses. My God, Sydney, do you believe everything a man says in bed?"
"I believe what Mikhail says. Now, I'm keeping him waiting, and we have a long trip to make."
Head high, chin set, Margerite streamed toward the door, then tossed a last look over her shoulder. "He'll break your heart, and make a fool of you in the bargain. But perhaps that's what you need to remind you of your responsibilities."
When the door snapped shut, Sydney lowered onto the arm of the sofa. Mikhail would have to wait another moment.
He wasn't waiting; he was prowling. Back and forth in front of the garage elevators he paced, hands jammed into his pockets, thoughts as black as smoke. When the elevator doors slid open, he was on Sydney in a heartbeat.
"Are you all right?" He had her face in his hands. "No, I can see you are not."
"I am, really. It was unpleasant. Family arguments always are."
For him, family arguments were fierce and furious and inventive. They could either leave him enraged or laughing, but never drained as she was now. "Come, we can go upstairs, leave in the morning when you're feeling better."
"No, I'd like to go now."
"I'm sorry." He kissed both of her hands. "I don't like to cause bad feelings between you and your mama."
"It wasn't you. Really." Because she needed it, she rested her head on his chest, soothed when his arms came around her. "It was old business, Mikhail, buried too long, I don't want to talk about it." .
"You keep too much from me, Sydney."
"I know. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, feeling her stomach muscles dance, her throat drying up. It couldn't be so hard to say the words. "I love you, Mikhail." The hand stroking her back went still, then dived into her hair to draw her head back. His eyes were intense, like two dark suns searching hers. He saw what he wanted to see, what he needed desperately to see. "So, you've stopped being stubborn." His voice was thick with emotion, and his mouth, when it met hers, gave her more than dozens of soft endearments. "You can tell me again while we drive. I like to hear it."
Laughing, she linked an arm through his as they walked to the car. "All right."
"And while you drive, I tell you."
Eyes wide, she stopped. "I drive?"
"Yes." He opened the passenger door for her. "I start, then you have a rum. You have license, yes?"
She glanced dubiously at the gauges on the dash. "Yes."
"You aren't afraid?"
She looked back up to see him grinning. "Not tonight, I'm not."
It was after midnight when Mikhail pulled up at the big brick house in Shepherdstown. It was cooler now. There wasn't a cloud in the star-scattered sky to hold in the heat. Beside him, Sydney slept with her head resting on a curled fist. He remembered that she had taken the wheel on the turnpike, driving from New Jersey into Delaware with verve and enthusiasm. Soon after they'd crossed the border into Maryland and she'd snuggled into the passenger seat again, she'd drifted off.
Always he had known he would love like this. That he would find the one woman who would change the zigzagging course of his life into a smooth circle. She was with him now, dreaming in an open car on a quiet road.
When he looked at her, he could envision how their lives would be. Not perfectly. To see perfectly meant there would be no surprises. But he could imagine waking beside her in the morning, in the big bedroom of the old house they would buy and make into a home together. He could see her coming home at night, wearing one of those pretty suits, her face reflecting the annoyance or the success of the day. And they would sit together and talk, of her work, of his.
One day, her body would grow ripe with child. He would feel their son or daughter move inside her. And they would fill their home with children and watch them grow.
But he was moving too quickly. They had come far already, and he wanted to treasure each moment.
He leaned over to nuzzle his lips over, her throat. "I've crossed the states with you, milaya." She stirred, murmuring sleepily. "Over rivers and mountains. Kiss me."
She came awake with his mouth warm on hers and her hand resting against his cheek. She felt the flutter of a night breeze on her skin and smelled the fragrance of roses and honeysuckle. And the stir of desire was just as warm, just as sweet.
"Where are we?"
"The sign said, Wild, Wonderful West Virginia." He nipped at her lip. "You will tell me if you think it is so."
Any place, any place at all was wild and wonderful, when he was there, she thought as her arms came around him. He gave a quiet groan, then a grunt as the gearshift pressed into a particularly sensitive portion of his anatomy. "I must be getting old. It is not so easy as it was to seduce a woman in a car."
"I thought you were doing a pretty good job."
He felt the quick excitement stir his blood, fantasized briefly, then shook his head. "I'm intimidated I because my mama may peek out the window any minute. Come. We'll find your bed, then I'll sneak into it."
She laughed as he unfolded his long legs out of the open door. "Now I'm intimidated." Pushing her hair back, she turned to look at the house. It was big and brick, with lights glowing gold in the windows of the first floor. Huge leafy trees shaded it, pretty box hedges shielded it from the street.
When Mikhail joined her with their bags, they started up the stone steps that cut through the slope of lawn. And here were the flowers, the roses she had smelled, and dozens of others. No formal garden this, but a splashy display that seemed to grow wild and willfully. She saw the shadow of a tricycle near the porch. In the spill of light from the windows, she noted that a bed of petunias had been recently and ruthlessly dug up.
"I think Ivan has been to work," Mikhail commented, noting the direction of Sydney's gaze. "If he is smart, he hides until it's time to go home again."
Before they had crossed the porch, she heard the laughter and music.
"It sounds as though they're up," Sydney said. "I thought they might have gone to bed."
"We have only two days together. We won't spend much of it sleeping." He opened the screen door and entered without knocking. After setting the bags near the stairs, then taking Sydney's hand, he dragged her down the hall toward the party sounds.
"I believe what Mikhail says. Now, I'm keeping him waiting, and we have a long trip to make."
Head high, chin set, Margerite streamed toward the door, then tossed a last look over her shoulder. "He'll break your heart, and make a fool of you in the bargain. But perhaps that's what you need to remind you of your responsibilities."
When the door snapped shut, Sydney lowered onto the arm of the sofa. Mikhail would have to wait another moment.
He wasn't waiting; he was prowling. Back and forth in front of the garage elevators he paced, hands jammed into his pockets, thoughts as black as smoke. When the elevator doors slid open, he was on Sydney in a heartbeat.
"Are you all right?" He had her face in his hands. "No, I can see you are not."
"I am, really. It was unpleasant. Family arguments always are."
For him, family arguments were fierce and furious and inventive. They could either leave him enraged or laughing, but never drained as she was now. "Come, we can go upstairs, leave in the morning when you're feeling better."
"No, I'd like to go now."
"I'm sorry." He kissed both of her hands. "I don't like to cause bad feelings between you and your mama."
"It wasn't you. Really." Because she needed it, she rested her head on his chest, soothed when his arms came around her. "It was old business, Mikhail, buried too long, I don't want to talk about it." .
"You keep too much from me, Sydney."
"I know. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, feeling her stomach muscles dance, her throat drying up. It couldn't be so hard to say the words. "I love you, Mikhail." The hand stroking her back went still, then dived into her hair to draw her head back. His eyes were intense, like two dark suns searching hers. He saw what he wanted to see, what he needed desperately to see. "So, you've stopped being stubborn." His voice was thick with emotion, and his mouth, when it met hers, gave her more than dozens of soft endearments. "You can tell me again while we drive. I like to hear it."
Laughing, she linked an arm through his as they walked to the car. "All right."
"And while you drive, I tell you."
Eyes wide, she stopped. "I drive?"
"Yes." He opened the passenger door for her. "I start, then you have a rum. You have license, yes?"
She glanced dubiously at the gauges on the dash. "Yes."
"You aren't afraid?"
She looked back up to see him grinning. "Not tonight, I'm not."
It was after midnight when Mikhail pulled up at the big brick house in Shepherdstown. It was cooler now. There wasn't a cloud in the star-scattered sky to hold in the heat. Beside him, Sydney slept with her head resting on a curled fist. He remembered that she had taken the wheel on the turnpike, driving from New Jersey into Delaware with verve and enthusiasm. Soon after they'd crossed the border into Maryland and she'd snuggled into the passenger seat again, she'd drifted off.
Always he had known he would love like this. That he would find the one woman who would change the zigzagging course of his life into a smooth circle. She was with him now, dreaming in an open car on a quiet road.
When he looked at her, he could envision how their lives would be. Not perfectly. To see perfectly meant there would be no surprises. But he could imagine waking beside her in the morning, in the big bedroom of the old house they would buy and make into a home together. He could see her coming home at night, wearing one of those pretty suits, her face reflecting the annoyance or the success of the day. And they would sit together and talk, of her work, of his.
One day, her body would grow ripe with child. He would feel their son or daughter move inside her. And they would fill their home with children and watch them grow.
But he was moving too quickly. They had come far already, and he wanted to treasure each moment.
He leaned over to nuzzle his lips over, her throat. "I've crossed the states with you, milaya." She stirred, murmuring sleepily. "Over rivers and mountains. Kiss me."
She came awake with his mouth warm on hers and her hand resting against his cheek. She felt the flutter of a night breeze on her skin and smelled the fragrance of roses and honeysuckle. And the stir of desire was just as warm, just as sweet.
"Where are we?"
"The sign said, Wild, Wonderful West Virginia." He nipped at her lip. "You will tell me if you think it is so."
Any place, any place at all was wild and wonderful, when he was there, she thought as her arms came around him. He gave a quiet groan, then a grunt as the gearshift pressed into a particularly sensitive portion of his anatomy. "I must be getting old. It is not so easy as it was to seduce a woman in a car."
"I thought you were doing a pretty good job."
He felt the quick excitement stir his blood, fantasized briefly, then shook his head. "I'm intimidated I because my mama may peek out the window any minute. Come. We'll find your bed, then I'll sneak into it."
She laughed as he unfolded his long legs out of the open door. "Now I'm intimidated." Pushing her hair back, she turned to look at the house. It was big and brick, with lights glowing gold in the windows of the first floor. Huge leafy trees shaded it, pretty box hedges shielded it from the street.
When Mikhail joined her with their bags, they started up the stone steps that cut through the slope of lawn. And here were the flowers, the roses she had smelled, and dozens of others. No formal garden this, but a splashy display that seemed to grow wild and willfully. She saw the shadow of a tricycle near the porch. In the spill of light from the windows, she noted that a bed of petunias had been recently and ruthlessly dug up.
"I think Ivan has been to work," Mikhail commented, noting the direction of Sydney's gaze. "If he is smart, he hides until it's time to go home again."
Before they had crossed the porch, she heard the laughter and music.
"It sounds as though they're up," Sydney said. "I thought they might have gone to bed."
"We have only two days together. We won't spend much of it sleeping." He opened the screen door and entered without knocking. After setting the bags near the stairs, then taking Sydney's hand, he dragged her down the hall toward the party sounds.
