“Well?” She strode forward, her gaze meeting his with impatience. “Speak up. Who sent you?”
Nicholas felt a touch of amusement. He couldn’t remember ever having been spoken to like a dimwitted lackey even as a child at the tsar’s court. He stood up and bowed mockingly. “Forgive me for not answering you at once. I fear your beauty held me speechless.”
“Bullshit.” She stopped before him, planting her hands on her hips. “I’m not even pretty. You were just taking my measure as I was taking yours.”
Nicholas’s laugh rang out. He had never encountered such honesty in a woman before. “Quite true. But may I say taking your measure was a very pleasurable experience? I hope you found me equally pleasing.”
He knew she would find him pleasing, Silver thought. There was not a woman in the world who would not look at him and want to keep on looking. A golden sun god—bold, sensuous, lusty as any mythical Apollo. A sudden flush brushed her cheeks as she realized her heart was pounding painfully hard against her ribs. “You’re handsome enough, I suppose. I have a fondness for dark men myself.”
Nicholas felt a sudden sharp annoyance. Was her circus knife-thrower dark, then? Lord, what difference did it make what were the preferences of a promiscuous little schoolgirl? “Is your uncle Dominic dark?”
Her wariness immediately returned. “Yes.”
“And you’re very fond of him?”
“Yes.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Why are you asking questions about Dom?”
“I need to see him. Will you tell me where to find him?”
“Why should I? What do you want with him?” Her voice became fierce. “How do I know you’re really who you say you are? You could be another one of those idiot detectives who came here looking for him.”
His lips twitched. “Who you consigned to the devil?”
“You are one of them.” She took a step back, her hands clenching at her sides. “I should have known that fool I frightened away two days ago would send for someone else to take his place. Why do you think I’d tell you anything about Dom?”
His amusement faded. “Because I intend that you will tell me.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Can you promise me that you mean no harm to Dom?”
He hesitated before meeting her gaze. Should he lie to her? The clear fearlessness of her regard decided him. In a world of women who played with the truth as if it were a pretty toy, it was refreshing to find one who appeared to have no guile. “No, I can’t promise you that.”
“Then you’re loco to think I’d ever tell you anything.” Her eyes blazed. “I won’t tell you. Not ever.”
“You will, you know,” he said softly. “Perhaps not now, but you will tell me, Miss Delaney. It’s necessary that I find your uncle.”
“Why?”
He smiled faintly. “I don’t believe it would be wise to discuss my purpose with you. I think we’ve reached an impasse. I can’t say that I’m sorry. Our situation promises to become much more interesting this way. The quest may become an adventure more satisfying than the discovery.” His voice lowered to velvet sensuality. “I’ve always been quite fond of ‘adventures,’ haven’t you, Miss Delaney?”
His dark eyes held mysteries, sensual secrets she knew he wanted to share with her. Yet his words were a mystery in themselves. Silver tore her gaze away from him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Nicholas experienced a thrust of disappointment that surprised him. What had he expected, he wondered cynically. Just because the girl seemed more honest than most was no reason she would admit to her lustful indiscretions. The woman who occupied a man’s bed one night was seldom the woman he met in the ballroom the next. “I’ll endeavor to make my meaning clear … later. I’ll make sure you understand every nuance and shading.” His dark eyes glinted through half-lowered lids. “Unless you’d care to change your mind?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” She shrugged impatiently. “It makes no difference. I won’t change my mind, so you may as well leave. Good afternoon, your highness. That is, if you really are a prince. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were one of those detectives and only pretending.”
He was dismissed, Nicholas realized with amusement, and with a royal indifference that would have done justice to an empress. “And it wouldn’t surprise me if you were a princess.”
Her gray eyes glinted with anger. “You’re laughing at me. I’m no princess, nor would I want to be. I am what I am. Silver Dove Delaney. Apache. White. Half-breed.”
Nicholas inhaled sharply, feeling heat flow through him and his stomach knot painfully. Christ, she was magnificent. Burning. Flaming with life. Her breasts were lifting and falling with every breath, and he felt a sudden desire to reach out and cover one of those breasts with his palm, to feel the fire, the softness. He pulled his gaze away from her and tried to remember what she had just said. “Apache? That’s an Indian tribe of your American Southwest, isn’t it?”
Her lips curved in a crooked smile. “Your fine detectives didn’t tell you I was a half-breed? Well I am and I’m also illegitimate. My father thought my mother was good enough only to bed and forget. Not that it matters to me. I had no need of the Delaneys.”
“Yet you’re doing your best to protect one Delaney.” He was scarcely aware of the words he was speaking. He just wanted to keep her talking, watch the play of expression on her face. Passion. He could feel the passion in her reach out and touch him like a stroking hand. My God, he wanted her. She had him achingly full, ready as he had never been before. Merde, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
But he would soon. He had never been more certain of anything in his entire life than that he must have Silver Delaney in his bed.
“I said I had no need. I didn’t say I wouldn’t choose to give.” Two bright spots of color blazed beneath the golden smoothness of her cheeks. “I do what I please. And it pleases me to help Dominic.”
And, Nicholas thought angrily, it pleased her to offer her body to this Sebastien and no doubt to any other man who caught her eye. He experienced a hot thrust of emotion that was totally new to him. “You appear to be exceptionally generous in your giving. That could be very dangerous for a woman. Some men prefer that, such generosity be confined solely to themselves.” His lips twisted. “I’m beginning to believe I may be included in that group. I find it quite a surprising discovery.”
A bewildered frown wrinkled her brow. “Half the time I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Do all Russians say one thing and mean something else?”
“Probably, though it’s a trait not confined entirely to my countrymen.”
“What a waste of time and effort. It’s far more sensible to say exactly what one means.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You like honesty?” His ebony eyes were suddenly dancing roguishly. He took a step closer to her. “All right, I’ll stop being Russian and adopt your American ways.”
“Nicholas,” Mikhail said warningly. It was the first time he had spoken since she had entered the room and Silver’s gaze flew to the face of the huge Russian. The Cossack’s gaze was fastened on the prince with apprehension and rueful resignation.
“She wants honesty, Mikhail,” Nicholas said in a reckless tone of voice. “Why not give it to her?” His gaze held Silver’s. “Shall I tell you what I want? One, I want Dominic Delaney. Two, I want to take off all your clothes and carry you to a bed, even one in this nunnery. Not necessarily in that order. At the moment the urgency is definitely for the latter.”
Her eyes were wide and wondering as a child’s. “You wish to fornicate with me?”
He chuckled. “Good Lord, I’d wager you didn’t learn that word at the staid Mrs. Alford’s academy.” He nodded. “That’s exactly what I want to do and shall do at the earliest opportunity.”
She gazed at him for a moment, her cheeks scarlet. Then she shook her head, hard. “No.”
“Are you afraid I can’t please you?” His
tone was only a level above a seductive whisper. “I promise you won’t be disappointed. Come with me now. I have a carriage waiting and we’ll go back to my boat. You don’t belong here among all these prim young misses.”
A pained expression appeared on her face but quickly veiled. “No, I don’t belong here. No one knows that better than I do.” Her chin rose. “But I don’t belong in your bed either.”
“You’re wrong; that’s exactly where you do belong.” He bowed mockingly once more. “But I can wait. It may even whet my appetite.” Something hot and wild flickered in the darkness of his eyes. “Though I doubt it, because I’m already very hungry indeed.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mikhail. “You see, my friend, I was very good. I didn’t throw her down on the rug as you thought I might. Now we can go.”
“A good idea,” Mikhail said dryly. “This is no place for you either.”
Nicholas made a face. “You’re right. It’s difficult to breathe in here.” He turned back to Silver. “Good afternoon, sweet, I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting.”
“I’m not sweet, and we won’t be meeting again.”
He tilted his golden head and regarded her appraisingly. “I was mistaken. You’re quite right: there’s nothing sweet about you. You’re like the vodka made in the Kuban. Hot going down and explosive after. I’ve always had an insatiable thirst for that vodka.” He turned to the arched doorway and then turned back as a thought occurred to him. “Silver Dove?” He burst out laughing. “Good Lord, what a misnomer. You’re more like a firebird.” He put on his black silk hat and strolled leisurely out the door.
Silver found herself staring after him, seething with a wild confusion of emotions. “He’s mad,” she muttered. “He couldn’t have meant …”
“He meant it.” Mikhail Kuzdief had paused beside her and was gazing down at her, his deep brown eyes oddly sympathetic. “And he is not mad, only a little wild. Still, it would be better if you ran away.”
“Why?” She looked at him in surprise.
“Nicholas is used to getting what he wants,” the big Cossack said simply. “But if you are not here …” He shrugged. “He saw you only once. Maybe—”
“Why are you warning me?” Silver asked curiously.
“Because I think Nicholas is right. You do not belong among the tame hens in this place.” His gaze gravely searched her face. “But I am not sure you belong anywhere else either.”
She flinched. “If I don’t, I’ll make my own place.”
A faint smile touched Mikhail’s lips. “Yes, that is what we must do.”
“We?”
“I also belong nowhere.” He put on his big black sheepskin hat and turned toward the door. “Except with Nicholas. I have warned you, but my loyalty is to him.” The glance he gave her over his shoulder was sober. “Always.” He strode out of the parlor.
Nicholas was waiting for him in the carriage and cast him an amused glance as he climbed into the carriage. “You warned her?”
“Yes.” Mikhail closed the door of the carriage and settled himself across from Nicholas.
“Do you think she will heed your warning?”
“No.”
The carriage started to move, the horses hooves echoing on the cobblestone street.
“Neither do I.” Nicholas leaned back on the leather seat. “Thank God. I believe I would be ready to break your head if you’d made it difficult for me.”
Mikhail looked at him in surprise. He had known Nicholas since they were children, and one woman had always been much the same as another to him. He had assumed it was the rebellious defiance of Silver Delaney that had caused him to react so explosively. Now, as Mikhail studied Nicholas more closely, he was conscious of something else. “You want her that much?”
“That much.” Nicholas closed his eyes. “God, I’m so damn hard, my guts are twisting.”
“We will be back at the levee soon. I’ll fetch one of the women to your cabin. Which one do you want?”
None. He wanted none of them, Nicholas realized with amazement. He wanted Silver Delaney or no one. What kind of a spell had she woven over him? He didn’t answer for a long time, his gaze on the neat little hedges that bordered the equally neat little houses lining the street. “We’ll be leaving St. Louis tonight. Tell Robert to be ready to cast off by nine o’clock.”
Mikhail nodded.
“I’m taking Silver Delaney with me.” Nicholas’s gaze shifted to Mikhail’s face. “You don’t have to help if you choose not to do so.”
“I will help,” Mikhail said quietly. “I will send her carriage away and be waiting for her when she leaves to go to the circus tonight.” He paused. “But I want to do it alone. The more men there are, the more chance that she will be hurt. I … I like her, Nicholas. Do not hurt her.”
“Rape?” Nicholas made a face. “My God, when have I ever raped a woman? I have no taste for using violence on any woman.”
But Nicholas had never been placed in a position where force was necessary, Mikhail thought worriedly, he’d only had to smile or speak sweetly and women flocked to his bed. But Silver Delaney was not a woman who would yield without a struggle. She would be as fierce as the women of his own people. “I would like your promise.”
Nicholas looked at him in surprise. “What the hell is wrong with you? I told you what Bentsen reported on Silver Delaney. The girl is no blushing virgin. There have been men aplenty between her thighs.” His expression hardened. “And she stood there and watched while they hung André.”
Mikhail merely gazed at him, not speaking.
“Oh, very well,” Nicholas said with exasperation. “You have my promise. I’ll not force her no matter how much I’m provoked. Satisfied?”
Mikhail nodded.
Nicholas slowly shook his head. “Why are you so concerned?”
“I do not know. You are right, she is probably able to take care of herself, even with you, Nicholas.”
“Exactly,” Nicholas said. But would Silver Delaney want to protect herself? He had known a plethora of passionate women and had learned to recognize the signs when he saw them. Silver Delaney possessed a potential for fiery sensuality greater than any he had ever encountered before. If he wasn’t mistaken, it would take very little to arouse her to the point where she would be pleading for him to come into her.
Just the thought of her lying in his bed, her arms outstretched with yearning, sent an aching heat to his groin. His heart was suddenly slamming hard and fast against the wall of his chest. Tonight. He drew a deep harsh breath and tried to relax. Damnation, he didn’t know if he could wait until tonight.
Silver moved slowly, heavily, through the arch of the parlor entrance toward the curving staircase. She must get to her small room on the third floor, she must close the door, close out what had happened between her and Nicholas Savron.
“Silver.” Mrs. Alford’s dulcet tones rang through the hall. “I do hope nothing is amiss with your family. No one has suffered an illness?” The headmistress’ pale blue eyes were bright with curiosity as she hurried forward. “His highness was most insistent on speaking to you alone or I would have been there to support you.”
Silver gazed at her blankly. She had never heard that note of concerned sweetness in Mrs. Alford’s voice in the two years she’d been under her roof. At least, not when the woman was addressing her. “No, there’s been no illness.”
“Then perhaps it would be proper to invite his highness to dinner. It would be a social coup of the first order to entertain Prince Nicholas. You have no idea how prestigious it would be for the academy. I’ve just been speaking to Miranda’s mother and she says the entire city is in a tizzy about his arrival. Rumor has it that he’s fabulously wealthy and his mother is a favorite at the court of the tsar.”
So he hadn’t been lying; Nicholas Savron was truly a prince. The thought sent an unexplainable rush of disappointment through her. Why should it matter? Nicholas was only an extraordinarily handsome young man who h
ad spoken words of lust to her. Such words had been spoken before and been stopped by the little knife she always carried with her. The knife could stop Nicholas also, perhaps he would be even easier to discourage. His exquisite attire and cultured manners could reflect a will that was equally soft.
“Silver! You’re not listening to me.”
“What?” Silver glanced absently at Mrs. Alford’s displeased face. “Oh, no, I’m not.” She started up the stairs. “And no, I won’t invite Nicholas Savron to dinner.”
“You won’t invite his highness?” The woman’s voice was outraged.
“No,” Silver said again, even more clearly. “I will not see him again.”
She heard the headmistress’ indignant gasp and then proceeded to ignore the woman as she climbed the stairs.
He was gone. Why did she still see his face before her? She had behaved so stupidly. Pray God he hadn’t noticed the effect he’d had on her. She had blushed and trembled like one of the giggling ninnies who were her classmates. He had smiled at her with that wicked golden charm and she had felt a melting somewhere deep within her. She had wanted to reach out and touch him, run her fingers over the clean outline of his upper lip and then up the broad plane of his jaw and perhaps—What was she thinking? Of course she did not want to touch him. She had always found it difficult to touch any person with affection.
Yet, if she had wanted to touch Nicholas Savron, it could mean only one thing. Lust. She was beset by the same malady that was common to all young animals, the same fever that had driven her mother to lie with Boyd Delaney. Fear shivered through her as she remembered how strong had been the response of her body as she stood before Nicholas. She had never dreamed how terribly strong that response could be. She must fight it. Who should know better than she how dangerous lust could be? She had lived all her days on the fringe of life as punishment for her mother’s yielding to that siren call. But she was stronger than her mother; she’d had to fight to prevent herself being crushed by the contempt of both Apache and white. She could close her ears to that siren call even when sung by a golden warlock.