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Nothing could alter the untenable situation.

Almost as if her thoughts had conjured the very man who occupied far too much of them, Stefan suddenly appeared before her, attired in a dark cinnamon jacket and gold waistcoat.

Her heart contracted, her gaze helplessly moving over his dark features. Dear lord, he was so beautiful. The elegant lines of his features. The sensuous curve of his lips. The broad width of his shoulders.

She shivered, her entire body tingling with pleasure.

“I thought I might discover you savoring the sunshine,” he murmured, his eyes darkening as they drifted over the hair she had left free to fall over her shoulders and the sprigged muslin gown that was trimmed with peach ribbons. It was one of her few dresses that had been cut to show the soft curve of her bodice and her breath tangled in her throat as his heated gaze lingered on the ribbon tied between her breasts. “All alone?” he rasped.

It took a moment to find her voice. “Brianna has returned to Hillside to oversee the workers who are refurbishing the parlors. She is convinced they will never properly choose the fabrics for the curtains.”

That ruthless will he was so careful to keep hidden was briefly exposed as he planted his hands on his hips.

“So she slipped away before I could halt her?”

“She promised she would do no more than sit on a sofa and search through the fabric swaths that were to be delivered this morning.”

“I hope she understands that Edmond will have my head on a platter if anything happened to her.”

“No one desires this baby more than Brianna,” she pointed out in reasonable tones. “She will not do anything to put herself at risk.”

“Hmm.” His gaze narrowed. “At least tell me she took a carriage with a groom and outriders?”

“I believe so.” She regarded him with a curious frown. “Do you suspect there is danger between here and Meadowland?”

“Poachers always pose a danger. I would prefer you not leave the grounds without an escort.”

She rose to her feet at his smooth response. He was lying. Whether it was because he wanted to frighten her so she would remain close enough to keep his eye on or because he feared she might cause Brianna some harm was impossible to determine.

Her chin tilted to a stubborn angle. Perhaps she deserved to be treated with such obvious distrust, but she did not have to enjoy it.

“Unlike Brianna, I have nowhere to go.”

His expression eased as a slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Are you becoming bored with the rather tedious routine of an English country estate, my dove?”

“I have told you I prefer a peaceful existence.”

“So you have.” He took a deliberate step closer, his scent wrapping around her. “While I insist you possess a more adventurous spirit.”

The very air seemed to thicken with an awareness that Leonida desperately attempted to ignore.

“Which only proves you know nothing of me.”

“I am discovering more with each passing day,” he murmured, his fingers drifting along the edge of her bodice, sending tiny shocks through her body. “I now know that you must be kept warm like a delicate orchid and that you have little taste for spirits. I know you prefer comfort to silly fashion, which says a good deal about your common sense, and that you can spend hours lost in a book that catches your fancy. I know that you harbor secrets that you keep hidden from the world and that you fear your passionate nature.”

With a jerk, she stepped back, as disturbed by his intimate knowledge of her as by his lingering touch.

“Ridiculous.”

His smile widened. “Shall we stroll to the grotto? Perhaps I can prove the truth of my words.”

“You are not nearly as irresistible as you believe yourself to be, your Grace.”

“Liar.” He once again closed the space between them, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb softly stroking over her bottom lip. “Does it soothe your pride to know I find you equally irresistible? Most inconvenient, I must admit. You are far more of a distraction than I had anticipated.”

“It was never my desire to be a…distraction, I assure you,” she muttered, a tingle inching down her spine as her lips brushed against his thumb. “Indeed, I would far prefer that you return your attention to your fields and cows.”

His brooding gaze swept over her upturned face. “You should never have come to England, Leonida,” he growled.


Tags: Rosemary Rogers Russian Connection Historical