Chapter Thirty

Raven heard the footsteps of Prince Nicholas before he saw him directing his staff, who struggled with the huge antique Russian samovar. With great care, they brought the vessel into the drawing room. The exquisite urn was encrusted with gems of various colors glistening in the sunlit room.

Raven announced to the group that Prince Nicholas would inform them about the priceless antique.

Prince Nicholas cleared his throat and said with much pride. “This belonged to my aunt. A connoisseur of the finer things in life, the moment she knew I coveted it, she gifted this unusual piece to me. Of course,” he nodded. “I do recall the exact moment she did so. I knew she always favored me. I might add, with good reason.” He looked at the guests and fondled the edge of his mustache. “There were many who lived in fear of her, but I loved her for all she was…a strong hellcat.” He pointed to the treasure. “I do enjoy bringing it on my long trips since I’m convinced the tea it brews is fit for a Prince. I’d be pleased to obtain your opinions.”

“Dinner á la Russe.’” followed established protocol. Prince Nicholas’ servants assisted the house staff. The novelty of the menu and the white-gloved presentation stimulated conversation for most of the night.

When at last they proceeded through all the courses and were ready for dessert, the ice cream came forth in various flavors served with a crème embellishment. The guests now enjoyed the sweet wine, and His Highness presented a toast. “To His Grace, our gracious host and my dearest friend, and the Lady Margaret, our esteemed hostess, please raise your glasses, in sincere thanks for a most memorable event of my beloved Russia. Da. Yes.” Glasses raised as the guests all smiled in appreciation.

“You are quite welcome,” Raven said. “Now, gentlemen, shall we retire to the library for some brandy while the ladies gather in the main drawing room. There are refreshments there, and it will give us time to speak of other matters.” Raven led them to his library, and the conversations they had kept light and convivial soon evolved into last minute questions about the precarious situation that now enveloped the cartel.

A half hour later, the gentlemen joined the ladies and formed conversational groups. One talked about horoscopes, and Lady Samantha read the ladies signs.

Raven walked toward a group in conversation about the imminent ball. Some others started a game of whist. Raven approached Samantha and extended his arm to her and asked, “My lady, we might be able to look at a few of the eighty-eight constellations. Would you join me?”

She accepted and laughed. “I don’t think we have time for all of them.” They walked through the doorway where he guided her to a secluded corner of the balcony out of sight of everyone.

Samantha gazed at the stars and identified Orion, the giant hunter, as one of them. Her face touched his when she pointed upward. She experienced a difficulty at the heady sensation, which overcame her and she swayed a moment. Her eyes sought and found his. The warmth of her body played tricks, so she glided her hand to her throat to calm her thoughts. Poised to enter the uncharted waters of passion, with him as her guide, her inner muscle tightened. Such a strange reaction. She held her eyes to his. The quiet unsettled her.

“I would like to know what your thoughts are right now, Samantha.” With gentleness he held her hand. His simple touch made her temperature soar, her nerve endings quivered. Everywhere there was heat, hot, wet, slick in inviting silence.

“If I told you, Raven, you would lecture me about propriety.” They laughed in mock gaiety. She tried to calm the thrum of her heartbeat, which pounded in her temples like siege battering rams to a fortress gate. Her logic disappeared, and in its place was—desire.

Through the foggy mist of her mind, she heard him whisper, “Samantha, if you’re taking a chariot ride, don’t forget to include me. You have that faraway look in your eyes.”

Samantha liked the sound of his voice when he uttered her name. It rolled off his lips like sweet nectar.

“Do you succumb to temptation at all, Raven?” She wet her lips in anticipation of something wonderful and decadent. “I find it hard to believe a man of such intellect and progressive behavior with such a concern for human welfare is tempted.” She turned quickly to look back at him. “Are you?”

Samantha had a need to keep conversing. He had asked her about her thoughts. Some things became clear. How do you discern need versus want? Strong new sensations propelled through her now non-existent barriers, and they demanded release.

“My lady, I’m not a saint. On the contrary, there are many who would refer to me as the devil incarnate.” His words were velvet, soft, and his breath warm as he nibbled her earlobe at the sensitive spot behind her ear. So this is what it’s all about. She uttered a simple sigh.

In her innocence she faulted herself for her inexperience. She faulted the tingle that grew and escalated to a warm flurry in her stomach that increased in intensity. It took all of her strength to pretend the sensible woman in her still existed. The moment Raven first entered her carriage and her life, everything changed—for the better. How much longer would she have to wait?

Raven closed his eyes for a moment. She smelled fragrant and the essence of everything female. Her honeyed lips taunted him with their sweet affectation of innocence. Yet how could a widow feign innocence so well? He asked this question many times. Either she was a good actress or a complete innocent. He pondered the choice.

Raven drew closer to her. “I have missed the scent of you and regret our lack of time together. Everything is not as I planned. There is much I want you to see.” He locked his eyes to hers. “When you get to know me intimately, you might be surprised,” Raven said.

“Intimately?” Wide eyes beckoned him.

“Very intimately,” he said.

The strong vibrations prompted his instincts that she shared his thoughts. The night seemed to stand still, and they were alone in a separate world they created.

“You are incredibly complicated.”

“Yes, I know.” She stepped back.

“You are stubborn and willful.”

“Yes.” She took another two steps back.

He advanced. “You are irreverent in your attitude toward me.”

“Yes, but not as much as before.”

Her back to the wall, he moved toward her, raised his right hand alongside her hair. His left arm against the wall, enclosing her in his body vise.

“I shall have to punish you for your offenses.”

“No.”

In spite of all the negative aspects, his lips leaned into hers. “You are damn irresistible, and I want you.”

“Oh,” she sighed.

“I will come to your rooms tonight.”

“No, that is not wise.”

The sound of her racing breath thrilled him. “There is a stairway at the back of your suite which is discreet.”

“How discreet?” she asked.

“Very,” he answered. “It’s there I will wait for you after everyone has retired and escort you to the boathouse. I’ll be in the darkness to rescue you.”

“And will I need a rescuer?”

How he loved it when she flirted shamelessly with her long fringed eyelashes.

He grinned. “Perhaps I should have said my services are available if required,” he added.

“Do I look like a woman who needs servicing?”

He expelled his breath, “Let us just say, yes. And I am here to pledge my desire to do so.” Raven moved away, but her nearness captured his every thought. Her scent was fragrant, sensual, and expectant.

He did not expect the ruffle of her fan tap to his cheek. A light one, it surprised him. “Does that mean you will meet me?”

The provocative look in her eyes wielded its power, “Yes.”.

His hand went to his cheek and an amused chuckle rose to the trees. “Touché.”

“Don’t be late.” She flicked open her fan.

“Hah, you are dismissed.”

“Hah,” she laughed back. “You’ll find I don’t dismiss easily.” With a wide swoop of her silk skirts, she turned away; her heels punctuated the stone floor, and she never looked back.

The mirth of her laughter appealed to him. He closed his eyes in contemplation of his head between her full breasts—soon. The pang in his groin elevated his desire. Damnation, he never experienced such a thrill.

Obsession, a word he disdained, came to mind. What does a man do with an obsession? He answered his question…I give in.

The amazement of her action with her fan amazed and stilled him. Like fine wine or cognac, she would not disappoint. This gave him delightful food for thought. What else would that fan do?

The ladies retired for the evening. Samantha accompanied her aunt to her bedroom and waited while the maid prepared her aunt for the night’s sleep. She kissed Aunt Min’s forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams. Dream wonderful dreams for me, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think I have to do that, Samantha. I’m sure you will conjure up a few of yours tonight. She turned her head away from her niece in obvious fatigue, “Good night, child. Do try to be good.”

Dear sweet Aunt, I don’t like to deceive you at all, but I want to be with Raven tonight, even if for a few moments. Please understand. It’s something I must do.