Her innocent touch brought a groan rumbling from his depths that had her innards curling up and sighing with satisfaction. She was making love to him, and he was letting her. And when she thought she couldn't bear another minute of it, he took over, gathering her close and filling her with his heat. But unlike before, he moved slowly this time, sensuously, deliberately prolonging the wonder of it, then finally with deep, grinding thrusts where he reached for the core of her, and brought her to a shattering climax that racked her body with fierce pulsations that continued to his final thrust, only with slightly less force, then nearly exploding again when she felt his own hot spasms.

She didn't want reality to intrude. It hadn't been pleasant the last time. But of course they couldn't lie there forever, clinging to each other, much as she wanted to. It was morning. Everyone else would be up and readying to depart. And Tanya still had to account for her foolish behavior that had sent her right into the arms of bandits.

So it was with some surprise that she felt his lips softly grazing her cheek and heard him ask with only mild curiosity, "Who kissed you and made you feel nothing?"

Without the slightest guilt for what kind of fury her answer might bring down on his golden head, she said, "Vasili," then promptly exonerated him by adding, "But he hated doing it, grouched the whole time, and only gave in when I said I'd ask someone else to kiss me if he wouldn't."

Stefan raised himself up on an elbow to give her an incredulous look. "You went asking for kisses?"

"Only to see if you were right or not."

"You couldn't just draw on past experience for an answer?"

She didn't let that bother her. She was too sated and mellow to be bothered by anything just then.

"I hate to disappoint you, as I did Vasili, since he asked the same thing, but my past experience isn't as great and varied as you both think."

He smiled then. "And here I was going to admit, to my own amazement, a gratitude for it."

Tanya almost choked, but she knew what he was referring to and blushed, retorting, "That wasn't experience, that was pure instinct."

"I wasn't trying to insult you, Tanya," he said gently.

She knew that. That it was so was what she found hard to believe. But if this was the kind of reaction she could expect from him when he wasn't troubled by guilt, which she now understood had been the problem last time, then she'd just have to see that they made love more often.

"Could we stay here today to — explore this 'gratitude' of yours more fully?"

He laughed and rolled back, his arms tight around her so she went with him. His hand moved to smooth her hair and keep her face pressed to his chest.

"I wish we did have more time, but my father is anxious for our arrival. He will know to the hour when we should be expected, and this delay—"

"Will worry him." She sighed. "I understand."

He whacked her bottom then, and told her to get dressed. But she received four more delaying kisses while trying to do as ordered. The man couldn't seem to keep his hands off her this morning. She felt the same way. It was so unusual, having him like this, and she couldn't have been happier.

When they were ready to leave, she took advantage of his pleasant mood to ask, "What was that remark you made about Pavel sparing me a switching all about?"

"Nothing important," he replied, but then he caught her chin in his hand to add sternly, "Don't ever ignore specific warnings again, Tanya."

She smiled, aware that that was going to be the extent of his scolding. "Then don't ignore me again, Stefan. I do foolish things when I get angry."

"God, don't we all."

Chapter 47

The capital city of Cardinia was merely that, a city, not unlike Warsaw, which they had passed through, or Danzig. Tanya didn't know why she'd had a fairytale setting in the back of her mind, complete with castle and rosy countryside. There was no castle, but it snowed for her arrival, which added a wonderland beauty to this place where she was going to live. The city proper was enclosed in an ancient wall that was no longer guarded and crumbling in places, but the city had stretched beyond this wall centuries ago.

As in any city, there were many large, elegant homes in certain sections, then there were many not so elegant in other sections, but they all looked only slightly different from the homes she'd seen elsewhere in Europe. Commerce was thriving. There were large stores and small shops, open markets, vendors, even warehouses, next to parks, cafes, churches. Carriages and sleighs clogged some streets where the snow had been swept to the sides but an icy crust remained behind, while other lanes were empty, the snow pristine white and undisturbed. Tall bronze statues were centered in squares, and winter-naked trees lined many streets.

The palace formed a square by itself. If not a towering castle, it was incredibly large nonetheless. Three stories high, it covered an entire block in the city proper, with the majority of official rooms at the front of the palace and many more rooms stretching down the side blocks, a barracks comprising the rear of the square, and open gardens and courtyards in the center of these four long, connecting buildings.

Tanya was delighted with the city, after having seen nothing but small villages and the occasional estate of a nobleman for days. But she was totally amazed by the palace, the grandeur of it, the opulence. The entrance was mammoth, the entire three stories high, where an official with armed guards at his sides, many more stationed about the hall, would have stopped them if Stefan hadn't been recognized. Wide corridors of marble were lined with large portraits in solid gold frames, separated by consoles on the walls set with silver lamps, or pedestals holding busts or small statues, or doors with footmen standing at attention on either side.

She was dazed by it all as she was ushered down one corridor, then another. Was she actually supposed to live in a place like this? And if she was being taken to the room she would be given, Lord help her, it must be at the end of the next block.

But she wasn't being shown to her rooms, which were going to be in the same wing as Stefan's. She should have known he would go immediately to his father. She just wished he hadn't thought to bring her with him.

Stefan might be king now, but she hadn't always thought so, and she still thought of him only as Stefan. But his father had been king for twenty years, the length of her life, a real king as she saw it, and she wasn't up to meeting him just yet, was forgetting all the protocol and correct forms of address Lazar and the others had drummed into her.

It was no wonder she curtsied to the Prime Minister, who was seated at the desk in the anteroom outside the royal chamber, when he looked up in surprise. Fortunately, his surprise was such that he didn't notice her blunder.

"Stefan! Why did you not send word that you had returned?"

Stefan embraced the older man with a laugh. "I would have, except Sandor's man was waiting in Danzig and left immediately to return here, so I didn't see any point in sending another with news you would already have."

"What man? Sandor didn't send anyone. We assumed you would."

"Then—" Stefan paused to glance at Tanya. "It would seem your would be assassin was rather clever after all. And that means Alicia would know what he looks like."

"Assassin?" Max exclaimed.

But Tanya interjected first, with eyes narrowed. "If you're going to see your redhead to question her, Stefan, I'm going with you."

"I don't even know if she was returning to Cardinia, but in any case, someone else can question her."

Tanya was only slightly mollified. Maximilian Daneff wasn't at all. "Assassin?" he repeated, and regained Stefan's attention.

"Someone has made two attempts on her life since we reached Europe," Stefan replied, then added in what was clearly an order, "I don't want another, Max. "

"I will see to it personally. But I do not think Sandor should be told. His health has improved, but worry could cause another setback."

"How improved?" Stefan asked suspiciously.

"Now, my boy, none of that. You cannot really think your father would have staged—"

"Would he not?"

Max grinned. "Well, possibly, but as it happens, he did not. Your crowning was official. And I said his health had improved, not that he has made a complete recovery. However, the physicians are hopeful that he might have a few more years left, if he stays out of the throne room. Now, if I may welcome your betrothed, who certainly needs no introduction." Max turned to Tanya and bowed formally, then said, "You are the very image of your mother, Princess Tatiana, except for your hair, which is pure Janacek. Welcome home."

She would never understand why tears suddenly sprang to her eyes, but they did. Perhaps it was because this man had known her parents well, had known her as a baby, could tell her things not even Stefan could. Or perhaps it was simply because home had been such an elusive thing to her all these years and now she was finally feeling as if she really had come home.

At the first sign of tears, Stefan drew her into his arms and grinned over her head at the Prime Minister. "It was nothing you said, I'm sure, Max, so don't look so stricken. The wench is just emotional and high-strung. You would not believe what I have had to put up with — " At that point he got a fist in his side and grunted. "You see?"