Ash nodded and placed the pins on the nearest table then approached the bed again. “Then lie down.”
Her brow furrowed.
“Trouble with instructions, Princess?”
“But I thought we weren’t—”
“Lie down.”
She scurried to the bed and lay down, her smooth body creating a gorgeous lithe painting against the satin sheets.
Ash suppressed a groan and removed his jacket, which complicated things, considering its snug fit. Next came his shirtsleeves, followed by his shoes and then his trousers, leaving him in nothing but his small clothes.
“Ash?”
“I’m going to blow out the candles.”
She said nothing while Ash blew out both candles and blanketed the room in moonlight.
“Ash, perhaps I was a bit forward in asking you to—”
“Shh…” He pressed his fingers against her mouth and then bestowed a gentle kiss on her cherry red lips. “Sleep.”
“Oh, but… oh.”
“Your first lesson in passion…” Ash pulled her into his arms and whispered against her rose-scented hair. “Anticipation is everything. Now sleep.”
She relaxed in his embrace. Within minutes, she was breathing deep, clearly exhausted.
Which left Ash damned uncomfortable.
Holding a woman he could not have.
Ten years he’d gone without holding a woman.
Eleven years ago he’d wanted a woman, but she hadn’t been his to want.
It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that history was repeating itself. Only this time he’d have a taste, but never his fill.
Life was punishing him all over again for his bad choices, punishing him in the form of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
Keeping her a virgin wasn’t just a necessity for her own honor and purity.
But for his own sanity, because he knew that once he shared such intimacy with her — and was forced to give that up? He would be in the same position he’d been in ten years earlier.
Sitting in the cemetery with a pistol pointed beneath his chin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Some women spend their lives trying to look as beautiful as she did… while she slept. —The Grimm Reaper
SUNLIGHT STREAKED THROUGH THE room. Sleepily, Sofia sat up, stretching her arms around her head. When she glanced at the spot next to her in the bed, she panicked. Where was Ash?
And then she realized.
She was no longer in his room, but hers. Sometime during the night, he’d brought her back to her room. She hadn’t even thought of the ramifications of what would take place if she’d been found in his. The servants knew to knock before entering, but yet, all it would take would be one glimpse, and she would be stuck with him forever.
Though stuck seemed like such a horrible word.
The man may have a temper, and at times disagreeable; the swearing was also a little much — but he was so beautiful to look at. On top of that? She felt safe with him… as if the world could spiral into chaos, and all she’d need to do was focus on his eyes and she’d be all right.
With another yawn, she looked down at the pillow.
A note rested against it.
“Remember… anticipation is everything.”
The handwriting was too pretty to be that of a man’s, but the only person who would know of that conversation was Ash. She clenched the note to her chest and let out a sigh.
Three weeks, and she’d no longer be the recipient of notes and passion, but duty.
Straightening her shoulders, Sofia decided to focus on the positive, and the positive was most likely waiting for her downstairs, breaking his fast.
A knock sounded at the door. Ana entered with a cup of warm chocolate. “Your Highness, how did you sleep?”
“Beautifully.” And she meant it. She’d slept peacefully last night — in the arms of a killer. Ironic that she’d feel at her safest with a man who strangled men with his bare hands.
“Wonderful.” Ana curtsied. “Shall we ready you for the morning?”
“Yes.” Sofia climbed out of bed and began her morning rituals, all the while remembering what it had felt like to have Ash’s hands on her body.
A half hour later, Sofia was rushing down stairs and nearly collided with the object of her thoughts.
Ash gripped her arms, steadying her on her feet. “Hungry, Princess?”
“That depends.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Are you offering, soldier?”
His eyes darkened, and, for a brief moment, she thought he’d kiss her; instead, he gently released his hold and offered his arm. “It seems Her Highness decided she wanted to play with the flames, hmm?”
“I find the heat entices me.”
“The most dangerous things in this life — are often the most lovely.”
Sofia glanced up at him. “Yes, yes they are.”
Ash stopped walking; he leaned in again.
“Ah, there you are!” Dominique said from the bottom of the stairs. “How was your rest, Sofia?”
“Hot.” She smirked.
Dominique’s brow furrowed. “I’ll let the maid know to open the window this evening.”
“Please do.” She fanned herself and fought a chuckle at Ash’s amused expression; it seemed with each moment they spent, a part of him cracked, leaving more and more of his true self in place. She liked it — who he was, not who he pretended to be, heartless, crude, indifferent.
“Ash?” Dominique asked. “Didn’t you say you were just on your way to meet with Hunter?”
“Er, yes.” Ash released her arm and clenched his fingers. “Forgot my hat…”
Dominique tilted his head. “And you hid it in your jacket? Or you simply went up the stairs and forgot it a second time?”
Ash frowned.
“I’m afraid he lost it,” Sofia said, saving the day. “Remember? During the travel from Scotland?”
Ash snapped his fingers. “Blast, you’re correct.” He didn’t move.
Sofia elbowed him.
He shook his head. “Have a lovely morning, Princess.” He passed Dominique and gave a slight inclination then patted him on the shoulder. His footsteps echoed across the marble floors.
“Sofia…” Dominique shifted uncomfortably between his feet. “…may I have a word with you?”
Her stomach dropped.
Did he know?
About her proposition?
About her and Ash?
“Of course!” She forced a bright smile and quickly walked down the rest of the stairs and followed him into his office. The same office where she’d tried to seduce Ash. Suppressing a groan, she waited for her punishment, chin high.
“Tell me about Peter,” he said once he’d taken a seat.
All the air escaped her lungs in a whoosh as she collapsed into the seat opposite Dominique. “What exactly do you wish to know?”
“Has he made an offer for your hand?”
Sofia swallowed, refusing to make eye contact; instead, she focused on the flickering flames of the fireplace. “He did.”
“And you denied him?”
She took a deep breath. “Only after I found him with my stepmother…”
“With your stepmother?” Dominique leaned forward. “Speak plainly.”
“They were naked,” she blurted. “How much more plainly do you wish me to speak, cousin?”
His face paled. “And he still wishes to pursue the marriage?”
Sofia nodded slowly. “I left the very next day. Before Father died, he — he said I needed to leave, that Stepmother Esmeralda would… hurt me… that she was mad with envy.”
“Typical of a woman who’s so focused on her own vanity.” Dominique muttered a curse. His blue eyes drew her in; for once they held no intimidation, just comfort. “You understand how important it is to make a match?”
Sofia worried her lower lip. “I understand.”
“Do yo
u know why, Sofia?”
Why was her throat so dry? The room so incredibly hot? “If I don’t marry, then I cannot inherit the throne and take back the country from my stepmother.”
“It is more than that.” Dominique’s eyes went from comforting to sad as he stood and walked over to his desk. It seemed a million seconds went by before he approached her with a small piece of paper. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Sofia. But if you do not marry within the next three weeks, you will not just lose control over the lands we both love. You’ll lose everything.”
“Wh-what?” She gripped the paper between shaking hands and read aloud.
My Final Will and Testament—
My daughter must marry a titled gentleman of good breeding before her twentieth birthday or cease all control of White Manor and its lands, including its tenants. She will be under the protection of the Crown and allotted a small cottage on the grounds, as well as a townhouse in London. All political power will be stripped of her and given to my wife, Esmerelda.”
The paper fluttered to the floor. “So that is the happy ending to my story.”
“Does it really make a difference?” Dominique asked in a gentle voice. “It is clear that Peter wanted your hand to gain control over the lands, and when you refused, your stepmother saw no choice but to eliminate you. If you die, the same happens. Everything goes to Esmerelda. If you live…” He choked. “…because I guarantee you will, Sofia… you will be safest with a man by your side. Legally, it is protection. I know…” Dominique sighed. “Damn it, I’m not good with words, Sofia, but I know in a young woman’s heart is the desire to be loved. I just wanted you to understand what you were giving up.”
Her head jerked to attention. “Giving up?”
“If you decide to wait to marry.”
“Wait?”
His smile was sad. “Do you think I would truly force you into a lifetime of unhappiness without first discussing it with you? The ball was to welcome you into society, to introduce Russian royalty. It was also an opportunity for you to get your feet wet. You met many single gentlemen last evening. Did any of them catch your eye?”
Yes.
One.
But he wasn’t titled.
Nor was he available.
“No,” she lied, hating the way it tasted on her tongue. “I did not.”
“The choice is yours…” Dominique said quietly. “But you have limited time to make the decision. I trust you’ll do exactly what I did.”
He stood and offered his hand.
“And what was that?”
The Beast pulled her in for a tight hug and whispered in her ear, “I followed my heart.”
There were tears pooling in her eyes when he stepped back. “And what if my heart wants what I can never have?”
“My dear…” Dominique wiped away her tears with his scarred thumbs. “…you may have the world. All you must do is ask and believe yourself worthy enough to accept it.”
“But, my people… the lands…”
“At what cost?” Dominique gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I will stand by your side, whatever decision you make. Even now, time is not on our side. Peter is most likely tracking you as he’s been trained to do, and Esmerelda will soon follow. Regardless, I will be by your side. As will Ash.”
“Ash?”
Dominique’s eyes narrowed. “He’s your protector. He will never leave your side, lest he sign his own death.”
That was truer than Dominique knew.
“Breakfast has been ready for a while.” He nodded. “Take your time, gather your thoughts, and join us when you’re ready?”
He quit the room.
Sofia plopped into the chair, her mind racing with possibilities. A small part of her wished — begged — for things to be different. A life where she could choose, where it would be Ash offering for her hand. Not some nameless gentleman.
She knew she only had limited time, but the letter or the will had made everything more real to her.
The choice had been taken from her and then given back by her cousin. He’d stand by her side. But who would stand by her people? The farmers? The shop owners in her small city? Who would fight for them? Not her stepmother. Certainly not Peter. They were evil, through and through, already taxing the people more than necessary, making it impossible for the village to flourish. They sought only more riches. And when they were in court with the czar? It was like watching peacocks prance around back and forth.
Dominique might stand by her side.
But her father had entrusted a responsibility to her.
She would enjoy her three weeks with Ash.
It would have to be enough to get her through a lifetime.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Madness. Also known as repeating the same torture over and over again—and enjoying it. —The Grimm Reaper
HUNTER’S TOWNHOME WASN’T FAR from Dominique’s, and Ash needed to stretch his legs after that embarrassing spectacle on the stairs, where he’d momentarily forgotten his own damn name — all because of her.
Passion. Ha, well, the joke was on him. The idea had been to distract her with small touches, lingering looks, kissing, touching — not to drive himself to an early grave for the thought of having her, over and over again.
“Damn it.” He kicked a pebble.
It didn’t alleviate his dark mood.
It simply reminded him that he was easily spinning out of control, all because of a girl with violet eyes and a tempting smile.
By the time he reached Hunter’s townhome, he’d gone over several scenarios where he discussed the pitfalls of his little agreement with Sofia… only to curse himself all over again for even thinking upon it. She would simply go to Pierce or another gentleman, of that much he knew. He wasn’t vain enough to assume it was because of who he was that she wanted him.
Sofia was simply… desperate… for something she had read in books and heard whispered amongst women.
Something, sadly, the girl wouldn’t experience, lest she find a tutor.
After all, most titled gentleman thought the wife was merely part of one’s wardrobe. One dressed her up pretty, took her to fancy balls and dinner parties, kissed her on the head goodnight, did his husbandly duty to produce an heir and a spare, then promptly hired a mistress to feed his base needs.
Disgusting.
The mere thought of Sofia’s husband doing such a thing had Ash craving the man’s blood, willing to punch any male who dared approach with her name across his lips. Bastards. All of them. Well, he’d simply wait for them to produce an heir then kill him. Be done with the whole messy business.
Then what? Keep her for himself?
If he lived that long.
If she still wanted him in that way.
If, if, if…
Bloody hateful word.
He knocked on the door and waited.
Hunter’s stiff-looking butler, John, opened the door, his face impassive. “Yes?”
“Ash to see—” Bloody hell. “The Lord Grimm to see the Duke of Wolverstone.”
“Ah…” John’s face transformed into a smile. “…good of you to be so prompt.”
“Tsk, tsk, John.” Ash stepped into the large house. “There you go again, trying to have a personality, when all that’s asked of you is to answer doors and take coats.”
“Yes, well…” John began stripping the coat from Ash’s shoulders. “…I find indifference bores me.”
“It bores us all.” Hunter’s booming voice sounded through the large entryway. “Brother… and almost early. My, my, to what do I owe the pleasure of this prompt arrival?”
Ash’s eyes narrowed.
“Or to whom?” Hunter grinned.
John chuckled.
“Your butler’s impertinent.”
“Yes, well, he tries to look stern when we have more important guests. I do tell him to practice but alas…”
“Apologies, Your Grace.” John bowed, his bald head shinin
g in the light. “I’ll do my best to look as depressing as the London sky.”
“Think rain, puddles, mud, France…” Hunter nodded encouragingly then slapped him on the back. “…and when all else fails think—”
“France.” Ash coughed. “It never fails.”
“—France.” John repeated. “Right, well, shall I have some tea brought into the office?”
“Ah, you read minds!” Hunter snapped his fingers. “I knew I kept you for a reason.”
John rolled his eyes and walked off, leaving Hunter laughing silently to himself while Ash tried to dispel thoughts of Sofia from his head.
France, France, France…
Waterloo.
Bloody hell, even the thought of war wasn’t helping.
“Come along then.” Hunter urged him forward. “Let’s not get caught gossiping by the wife.”
“Because that happens so often,” Ash said dryly.
“More so than usual, since you’ve been in attendance. Why, the maids are all aflutter that Lord Grimm has returned to society. Hell, the bloody rag sheets are swarming with gossip.”
Ash cringed and took a seat near the fireplace; he leaned his elbows on his knees. “How bad?”
Hunter let out a bark of laughter. “One lady claims she felt her heart skip a beat when you smiled in her direction.”
“I make a habit not to smile at females.”
“Yes, I’m aware. So are the females. I believe she imagined the entire thing. Shall I ask her what she’s named your future children?”
“Hunter,” Ash warned.
His brother sat across from him and threw a few scandal sheets onto the table. “Another says you appear to be a man haunted by a dark past… in need of some… company of the female sort. Oh and my favorite is this…” He pointed to the sheet and sighed happily. “Shall I read it aloud?”
“I’d rather you not—”
“Rumors are fast spreading amongst the ton that Lord Grimm has his sights set on London’s latest arrival. Miss Sofia Maskylov, the Russian beauty and cousin to Prince Maskylov, could not take her eyes off the fellow and vice versa. This author has it on good authority that a scandal is brewing between the two. After all, to share more than one dance then disappear for half the night, only to return with a look of pure satisfaction? Then again, this author would have that same look on her face if she was able to disappear with the dangerous looking lord; by God, the man has a face of a fallen angel. But you know what they say about fallen creatures. They so love to bring the pure down with them. Will she stay white as snow? Only time will tell.”