And then he was only nibbling, at her lips, her earlobes, her neck, and she knew instinctively that what he was doing now wasn't going to lead to anything more. She felt a disappointment that helped her tamp down her rioting senses. She could protest at any time now; he was allowing that. But since she didn't want to anyway, she decided to wait to see what else he would do. Besides, the way he was leisurely toying with her was sinfully delicious, just stirring enough to keep her senses alert and hoping, but inducing a languor that had her melting into his body.

Finally he looked at her, tipping her chin up so she couldn't avoid his gaze. His eyes were merely sherrygold, about as mellow as she'd ever seen them. And he didn't say a word. That alone brought her back to full reality. But she didn't stir from her position, half reclined in his arms, her right hand curled around his neck.

With a degree of smugness, she asked, "What happened to your promise?"

"I was only a little angry."

"The hell you were," she snorted.

He smiled down at her. "Then let me rephrase that. I was in perfect control."

"You wanted to kiss me?"

There went his smile. "Why the devil do you sound surprised?"

"Your promise—"

"Had nothing to do with it."

It didn't? Confusion reigned, until she thought to ask, "Stefan, what exactly did you promise me?"

The subject wasn't pleasing him, if his new expression was any indication. "I thought I was quite specific."

"Then refresh my memory."

"I gave you my word I would never take my anger out on you again."

Her relief was there, jumping up and down inside her, but there was another thought that had her brows drawing together in a scowl. "Then who will you take it out on?"

"I suppose I will have to find another outlet."

"Alicia?"

She could have bit her tongue for asking that, especially when he grinned. His mood might have suddenly improved, but hers didn't.

"You weren't jealous of Alicia, were you?"

"Not the least little bit," she lied. "Where is she, by the way?" You weren't going to ask that, missy. Oh... shut... up.

"On her way to Cardinia, I would imagine. She left quite early."

"I thought she was going to travel with us."

He stared at her for a long, pensive moment and then he frowned. His hold on her tightened. His scars twitched.

She was confused again, increasingly so when he demanded, "Did you want her along? Perhaps to keep me from kissing you when I damn well feel like kissing you?"

Now, what brought that on? she wondered in vexation. Her innocent remark? Not likely.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"It's what you told her, isn't it?"

Tanya gasped in outrage. "I told her no such thing! In fact, that sounds pretty much like what she told me—that I ought to be grateful for her existence because I couldn't possibly want you bothering me in that way, and she would make sure you didn't. She had the unmitigated gall to assume, assume, to know what I want. What other lies did that bitch say about me?"

Stefan didn't answer. He didn't know whom to believe at that point — Tanya, who said such outlandish things sometimes that he never knew what was true or not, or Alicia, who had never lied to him as far as he knew. And Alicia hadn't told him anything he hadn't already agonized over himself.

That was what had driven him back to the bottle last night after he had unwrapped Alicia from his body and sent her packing. He hadn't been gentle about it, either which he regretted now that he was sober. And now that he was sober, he realized that telling Tanya that Alicia had been with him when she screamed — when Alicia actually had returned to her room some thirty minutes earlier — had merely been his pain trying to inflict a like pain on Tanya. Obviously it hadn't worked, since her reaction had been fury that he might have been enjoying himself while she was in danger.

The accusation Tanya had made against Alicia, however, he still couldn't give credence to. Alicia might be petty and spiteful, but she wasn't capable of murder.

The hardest thing he had ever done was to finally ask Tanya outright, "If you don't want her around, are you prepared to accept me as I am, scars and all?"

Tanya didn't know how important her answer was to him, or how much frustration she could avoid if she would just answer yes. She was too annoyed to answer yes.

"Your scars again? You and Alicia are two of a kind, aren't you? You're both obsessed with those damn scars."

All he heard was that she had evaded his question, which was all the answer he needed.

He abruptly set her from him, waiting only until she had settled back in her seat to say stiffly, "You may not like my touch, Tanya mine, but you had best get used to it. But then we both know that once you're being kissed, you don't care who is doing the kissing, or the touching. Do you?"

"I honestly wouldn't know," she shot back, only to realize that that particular taunt was the truth.

Chapter 43

"Would you mind kissing me?"

Vasili stiffened to his full six feet, impressive in his indignation. "I beg your pardon?"

Tanya flushed, but she wasn't giving up yet. They were close to Cardinia. Another three or four days, she had been told. But ever since leaving Danzig, Stefan had been deliberately avoiding her again, not as completely as on the Carpathia, but nearly as much.

Almost immediately he had stopped riding with her in the coach, sending Serge or Lazar, or both, to keep her company in his stead, while he rode with Vasili and the guards outside. Now she was lucky if she even caught sight of him through her window. Nor did he come to speak to her when they stopped at villages or great estates for food or to pass the night. Once they had camped in the open. She didn't know where he had slept.

When they had left Danzig, it was like leaving civilization behind. The countryside had been pretty bleak and barren, with winter upon it. Houses or farms became a rare sight, towns even rarer. The occasional castle held Tanya's interest the most, but not for long. Clouds or fog sometimes surrounded them so completely, it was difficult to see the road even a few yards ahead. She had yet to see a sunny day. It had rained often, and yesterday there had been a few snowflakes, though a frigid wind had whisked them away. The weather alone would have put her in a gloomy mood if the situation with Stefan hadn't.

She was definitely beginning to regret her childish behavior during their last conversation. She had let her temper get the better of her, as usual, this time because of her jealousy, and that in turn had alienated Stefan again. And just when she had discovered that he wasn't indifferent to her. Well, he was now. But that last taunt of his, that she didn't care who was kissing or touching her once it was happening, had really bothered her after she thought about it. He'd implied she might protest first, but she was easy to conquer once she got heated up.

It was an insult, not as bad as his similar one about her not caring whom she bedded with, but an insult just the same. Only how did she know if it wasn't true? She'd never given any other man the chance to prove it one way or the other, stopping them all from kissing her the way Stefan did. So what if he was right? She didn't want any other man kissing her. There were dozens of them now in their party, but she didn't want any of them. She wanted only Stefan. But if one of them kissed her, really kissed her...

She had decided at last to find out for herself. If she was as wanton and fickle as Stefan claimed she was, then she damn well wanted to know it. And Vasili was a very logical choice to find out with. At that moment, he would probably like to vindicate himself, because he had actually been showing some guilt ever since he had accepted her innocence as fact. So he ought to delight in proving that if she wasn't an actual whore, she was at least one by nature.

He was also the most handsome man she'd ever known, and if she was going to prove this experiment beyond a doubt, she might as well use the big guns, so to speak, and make it as tough on herself as she could. And once she did prove it in her favor — and she was confident of that outcome — then she would have some ammunition to confront Stefan with. But she was going to have that confrontation one way or another, before they entered Cardinia.

Stefan said she had to live with him, but she wasn't going to go on living with him like this. If she wasn't positive that there was at least some hope of Stefan ever coming to love her, then she would just as soon leave before they reached Cardinia and the whole country knew about her existence.

Now she looked Vasili straight in the eye and repeated her question in a tone he couldn't doubt was serious. "I asked if you wouldn't mind kissing me."

"Actually, I would mind," he replied, still indignant, then glanced about the camp they had set up about an hour ago, looking for Stefan.

Tanya guessed as much. "He went with Serge to the village that is supposed to be a couple of miles from here. At least that's what Lazar said."

Vasili's eyes came back to her, narrowed. "So if he isn't around, what was the point of that ridiculous request? It was to make him jealous, wasn't it?"

"As if he would be," she snorted. "No, I asked for my own benefit, because Stefan says that no matter who kisses me, they'll get the same response from me. I want to know if that's so."

"You must be joking!" he exclaimed.