The Russian's Tender Lover (The Sisterhood) (11 page)

“Absolutely. You’d be a fool not to try and escape. But I’ve taken precautions to ensure that you’re here for as long as it takes to find that idiot my sister wants to marry.”

She listened to his words, feeling a bit more comfortable now that he at least was able to consider her side of the situation. “Why would you be trying to find this guy if you don’t like him so much? And why on earth would your sister want to marry someone who is so disloyal?”

He dropped his paper and looked across the table at her. “It has nothing to do with my sister now. It has become a matter of family honor. He has disgraced my sister and will pay for this insult,” he said softly.

Darcy reacted to those words as if he’d just slapped her. That attitude was so familiar, she’d heard it often from her father as he railed against one person or another during meals. Family honor was something to be guarded against at all costs, she knew.

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” she asked, barely able to get the words past her constricted throat.

Sergei was astonished that she would even come up with an idea. “Kill him?” he asked. But looking at her pale face, the tense lips and stiff shoulders, he understood that this was no idle question. She was completely serious. “I don’t kill people,” he said firmly. “What would give you such an idea?”

She nodded in acceptance of his answer, quick, jerky movements of her head simulating that she’d heard, but the fear, the gut wrenching horror that had gripped her as she’d been thrown back in history, would take a bit more time to ease. “Thank you,” she said and placed her fork carefully beside her plate, her back stiff and taut.

Adele chose that moment to bring out the eggs Benedict, along with fresh asparagus, placing it proudly in the middle of the table beside the fruit. Manuel was right behind her with two different pitchers of freshly squeezed juice, explaining one was strawberry juice and the other tangerine. Both of them were in smaller, quaint little pitchers. Darcy picked up the tangerine juice and poured some into his glass, placing it carefully to the right of his plate. She then lifted the eggs and passed them to Sergei, who automatically took them, his eyes carefully watching her every movement. It was like she’d turned into a robot and he wasn’t sure what had happened to the animated woman who had danced up to the table five minutes ago.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Darcy smiled politely and picked up the coffee urn, re-filling his half empty cup. “Of course. Thank you very much for asking.”

She placed one of the poached eggs onto her plate, then proceeded to cut the meal into precise, bite sized squares, then pushed the food around on her plate. Sergei watched, wondering if she was going to actually eat any of the food, or simply push it around until it formed whatever pattern she finally decided upon.

Sergei helped himself to the fruit and eggs, eating them carefully, all the while watching to see if she might reveal what had upset her so much. But he couldn’t figure it out. Had she truly considered he might kill someone? What kind of ludicrous idea was that? He wouldn’t allow the man to escape unscathed though. There would definitely be a penalty for insulting him and his family, but the issue would be financial and not violent.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she asked and stood up without waiting for his response. He watched with concern as she pushed back her chair and practically ran from the patio, disappearing down the path towards the beach. He considered going after her, but something told him she needed to be alone, to work out whatever was bothering her.

He finished the meal and went up to his office but found himself moving towards the windows more often than he needed. He was looking for her, he knew. He’d seen her go off towards the beach, but she had yet to appear in either the water or the sand.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her sitting off to the side, her toe making patterns in the sand as she watched the edge of the water as it lapped at the beach. She looked better, less stiff, he noticed and something unfurled within him. With her firmly in his sights, he sat down at his desk and made calls, checking details and reviewing contracts.

Two hours later, he was still at his desk, but had given up on trying to ignore how he watched her out the window. She was trying to windsurf again today, and failing miserably. He chuckled as she fell into the water once more, but raised herself up onto the board, a determined look in her eyes. He even thought he saw her talking to the board a few times, almost as if she were trying to negotiate with the piece of fiberglass.

Shaking his head, he ended the conference call in the middle of negotiations in which he was working to buy out a major hotel chain. To date, no one knew that the chain was in financial trouble and he had big plans to refurbish the rooms, the marketing strategy and the financial situation. But at the moment, his focus was on the slender woman who was once more trying very hard to control a board that was just as determined to ignore her efforts. It was time to teach her how to windsurf, he thought.

Pulling on a pair of swimming trunks, he headed down to the beach. Once there, he watched her technique for a few moments from the shore before shaking his head and walking into the water.

“You need to bend your knees more,” he said as he hauled her up from her latest dump.

Darcy jumped probably about a foot out of the water, so started was she to find Sergei standing right behind her.

Her eyes, which had initially been shocked at his face, were now transfixed on his bare chest.

“You’re naked!” she squeaked and took a step back, almost falling backwards into the water. If he hadn’t reached out to catch her, she would have gotten yet another mouth full of water.

He chuckled and pulled her back up, closer to his chest with his hands holding her gently but firmly on her upper arms. “I’m not naked. I’m wearing a swim suit,” he said calmly. “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“Why aren’t you wearing one of the bathing suits my assistant sent over with the other clothes?”

She put a hand on the board and blinked the water away. “They aren’t bathing suits,” she countered. “Those were small little triangles held together with strings.”

His face didn’t register his shock, but instead, he looked at the sail and rigging. “Do you want to learn how to do this?” he asked.

She looked at the board, then at his chest, biting her lip in indecision.

“Come on, you can do it. You’re almost there, but you’re trying too hard.” He turned the board around and jumped up, easily getting into a standing position. “Come on,” he said and reached down, grabbing her hand and lifting her out of the water as if she were a tiny piece of seaweed. One moment she was in the water trying to keep her balance with the passing waves, the next she was standing on the board, his strong, muscular arms surrounding her as his hands pulled the sail up so it was straight once again.

“Put your feet farther apart to get better balance,” he explained, moving her legs with his feet, standing behind her as he positioned her, “and bend your knees. With both hands here on the boom” he said, indicating the curved bar that ran from the pole sticking out of the board to the other end of the sail, “now slowly shift the sail so that it’s catching the wind, and lean backwards.”

As he spoke, he showed her, his long, lean fingers sliding up her wet skin, moving against her hips and shoulders. Each time she felt his hand on a new place, she couldn’t control the shiver that raced through her. And no matter how much she tried to be sophisticated about the experience, she’d never felt like this when a man touched her so she wasn’t sure how to control it, to hide her reaction. She was actually embarrassed when, several times, she realized that her nipples were hard and obvious through her thin shirt. She’d been careful not to wear a white shirt, but even the black couldn’t hide her reaction to him.

“You have to relax a bit more,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. His arms were basically wrapped around her, since both of his hands were also on the boom, her back against his chest and his feet next to hers on the board.

“I think I’ve got it now,” she said, the words coming out a bit breathlessly and she tried to turn her head away, but there was no escaping the heat of him. It surrounded her, wrapped around her and comforted her even as it increased her nervousness.

“Pull back a bit,” he suggested, then showed her how by pressing his knees against the back of hers. She was lying against him and her heart rate escalated. Darcy knew she wasn’t doing any of the surfing, it was all him, but as she looked up, she realized that they were now skimming across the water, the shoreline fading away as the wind blew them out to sea.

“Oh my!” she gasped and almost dumped them in her awe of the ride.

“Don’t get crazy,” he said softly, chuckling at her excitement. “You have to learn to turn now,” he said and showed her the way to ease back on the boom, the neutral position that would take the sail out of the wind. With great gentleness, the board slowly skimmed around the water, turning back towards the island and as they slowly shifted on the water, once again they were flying as Sergei maneuvered the sail so that it caught the wind, catching speed and skimmed over the waves.

For another hour, he showed her tips on how to work the rigging, slow down, speed up and turn into the wind. He explained tacking to her, showing her how to zig zag back to one point when the wind was against the direction one needed to go. Throughout the entire lesson, Darcy was aware of him against her, but her focus was now on the lesson, on learning how to control this contraption and share in the wonder he could teach her with the sport.

As they drifted back towards the island this last time, his arm pulled her more firmly against him as he held on to the boom with one hand. “Hold on,” he warned moments before the board jumped over a wave.

Darcy cried out, her hands gripping the boom and her back pressing against him. “Bend your knees now!’ he called out above the sound of the crashing waves and Darcy followed his instructions at just the right moment as the board came crashing down on the other side of the wave, gliding into the sand easily and Darcy hopped of, spinning around and jumping up in delight as she clapped at his expertise. “That was amazing!” she yelled out, jumping into his arms and hugging him, throwing her arms around his shoulders in her delight.

When she realized what she was doing, she tried to jump back, but his arms had already closed around her waist and held her still. “Don’t go,” he said, looking down at her, his voice husky.

“I’m sorry,” she said and tried to drop her hands, but his own skimmed up her back and he shook his head. “I’m not,” he said a moment before his mouth touched hers. Tentatively at first, as if he was testing to see if she would stop him. But when she simply stood there, waiting for more, her head turned up to his as if ready for the next step, he was more than willing to go there. His mouth covered hers more firmly this time, nibbling at her lips, moving across hers, his hands molding her body against his, pulling her tighter. And when she responded, kissing him back while her hands slid up his chest, he became more aggressive.

His fingers slid through her hair, pulling her head back and giving him greater access. As his mouth moved over hers, Darcy thrilled to the taste, the feel of him against her. He was so large and her fingers ran across his muscled chest, exploring and feeling, testing the surface just as he was doing to her mouth, his tongue invading, making her moan in reaction and need.

As his hand slid inside her wet shirt, his fingers unerringly found her breast, pushing away the bra and discovering the fullness, the shape and absorbing her gasp of surprise in his mouth. He was surprised as well, amazed at how perfectly she fit in his hand, how soft and wonderful she felt and when his thumb rubbed against her nipple, he had to hold her against him as her knees gave up.

Darcy didn’t want the feelings to stop but she couldn’t control the shivering his hands were causing. And when he laid her down in the sand, she curled up against him, wanting to feel all of him. Her knee bent and she thrilled when his hips pressed against hers, finding just the right spot to press, making her wiggle underneath his large body.

“Sergei!” she gasped when his warm mouth closed over her cold nipple through the shirt, her hand clenching at his hair in desperation. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, arching into his mouth and loving the way he felt.

“I don’t intend to,” he growled and pulled her shirt up, then yanking the cup of her bra down so he could see as well as taste. “You’re beautiful,” he said as his hot gaze looked down at her breast uncovered now and Darcy smiled, closing her eyes and feeling soft and feminine, incredibly sexy.

Her hands were in his hair, traveling down his shoulders then running back up against his stomach muscles. She loved the way he looked as well but she couldn’t get the words past her lips. The issue was a combination of the new feelings and a painful shyness that overcame her at that moment.

Sergei didn’t know what was going through her mind, all he knew was that this woman excited him beyond words. Beyond anything he’d ever experienced with another woman. And he’d have her, he thought with determination.