Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Varek. “Very well. One kiss in exchange for thirty days of blessed respite from your stifling attention. Agreed?”
He bit back his smile and nodded solemnly. “Agreed.”
Christina knew she should leave, but still she stood there and gazed at him. How she wished it was her right to tend to him, to soothe him, to take care of all his problems. But it wasn't.
“Do you have any idea how much I have missed you?” he asked softly, his voice once again that deep, hypnotic hum that resounded through her heart like a temple bell.
It took her a moment to fight back the swell of tears that threatened. Taking a deep breath, she looked directly into his bruised eyes and gave him a frosty smile. “I know only too well, your highness.”
Afraid she would lash out at him as she had Robert earlier, she spun on her heel and left. She so wanted to vent all her pain and frustration over his head; but she couldn't, for it would be like cauterizing a wound, preparing it for the healing process to begin and then her defenses against him would begin to crumble. Varek was a wound in her soul that had never healed, and as long as it was angry and inflamed she could keep her distance, and she needed that more than ever.
They lay before each other with nothing between them but the moon's lambent glow, the night sky above them a blanket of stars. Together they reached out, their fingertips barely touching, and shivered as if an electrical frisson connected them, pulling them closer until the tips of her breasts barely skimmed the taut muscles of his chest. Their breaths stopped. Then they breathed as one, her sigh became his inhalation, their breaths mingling between lips hungry for a taste of the other. Slowly, their mouths met, blending their essence as their tongues mated.
She felt his broad hands cupping her buttocks, lifting her. Her legs encircled his waist, pulling him closer, locking his loins against her moist heat. They groaned as he surged into her tight sheath, their heads thrown back, the moon's gentle light bathing them.
Slowly he teased her with long, slow strokes until she could take this frustrating torment no longer and she strained tighter against him, pulling him deeper into her, claiming every loving inch of him. He gasped as her inner muscles clenched about him, pulling him yet deeper into the very core of her being. His world spiked white with the savagery of his passion.
Flexing his hips, his hands clenched into her buttocks, bruising her, his near violence making her shudder with carnal joy. He withdrew, then groaning low, his teeth gently nipping her arched throat, he drove with hard, demanding strokes into her blessed heat.
Her nails dug into the straining muscles of his back, marking him as hers alone, and he knew he would wear these scars with pride.
Into the still night their cries echoed, the cool mist blending with the sweat streaking their flesh. Then he stiffened. She moaned. He exploded and she dissolved. Their cries became one
...
Miles apart and in separate beds, Christina and Varek cried out in the night, both gasping as they sprang up in bed, cold slashing across their sweat-slicked bodies. Disoriented, they looked about, unconsciously reaching out, seeking their other half. But their arms dropped empty to the beds. When they fell back onto the damp, cold bedding they both stared out their windows, watching in lonely vigil the setting of another mocking moon.
One wondered if her dreams could ever possibly come true again.
The other knew it was only a matter of time.
Varek was nowhere to be seen in the next weeks. However, out of sight was not out of mind for Christina. She was tempted to call on him and check on his progress, but she didn't dare. Sergei had informed her that Varek was well on his way to a full recovery, and that other than praying, he stayed in bed and listened to the doctors. She concentrated on putting him from her thoughts. She spent what few idle hours she had convincing herself that her life was better without him, and trying to soothe Robert's ruffled insecurities. It was easy to use her position as a hostess of the British suite as an excuse to avoid Robert most of the time. Luckily, she worked well with Lady Castlereagh, joining her when she gave teas and dinners. Several times she escorted the viscountess about Vienna, though most afternoons Lord Castlereagh made time to escort her himself.
Her attendance in the planning of the Carrousel was almost demanded of her now. This, however, was difficult at the best of times, as the European aristocracy, having no love of the stiff-necked English, preferred to treat her as if she was still the Archduchess of Austenburg. Of course, the snobbish attitude of the people from her past fueled Robert's ire even further, acting as dry kindling on the fire smoldering between them.
Now it seemed she could do nothing right. He was always close by to scowl at her or offer her an unsolicited lecture. Even a harmless, flirtatious conversation with the obese King of Württemberg had been the catalyst to spark another argument between them later, when they were alone. She was beginning to realize it was not just Varek he resented, though perhaps his presence had triggered Robert's jealousy to a harsher degree, rather he resented any friend of hers who he felt was a threat to her undivided attention. She was still shocked and confused at discovering the extent of her husband's lack of confidence in himself. There were times he was spiteful and petty, others when he was abjectly apologetic for his actions. Then he would do a complete turnabout and be her Robert of old, witty and charming. She never knew which mood she would find him in from one hour to the next. It was disconcerting and at times almost frightening.
At least she could count on Varek to be consistent through this taxing time. Even after he had rejoined the hectic schedule of the Congress several weeks later, he kept true to his word and kept his distance, though he was never far away. His brooding presence didn't bother her anymore, just as long as he kept his distance from her and Robert.
It was late one afternoon, dusk already descending, when she finally made her escape from a particularly long afternoon as the ladies of the committee bickered over the costumes to be worn at the Carrousel. Just as Sergei was assisting her into one of the carriages provided for the guests of the Congress, she heard her name called.
Turning, she spied a very old and dear friend walking toward her. Smiling warmly, she held out her hand to Prince Adam Czartoryski, who had always been a special friend of hers and Varek's. Over ten years ago the Polish nobleman had been held as a hostage in St. Petersburg, where he became best friends with the Russian heir, Alexander. At the Russian court he had also met the beautiful Grand Duchess Elizabeth, his best friend's wife. The two had fallen instantly and deeply in love. Their affair lasted three years under the nose of Alexander, who strangely turned his head the other way during their affair. However, when Elizabeth gave birth to a dark-haired, dark-eyed baby girl, the Emperor Paul could no longer sit back and watch his son be humiliated. Czartoryski had been exiled to Sardinia, even against the vehement protestations of his son. Sadly, the lovers’ child had died a year later, leaving Elizabeth even more heart-broken.
Though Czartoryski had been recalled from exile by Alexander upon his father's death, and made him a foreign minister at his court, the two lovers had strangely enough never been reunited. Now the prince was out of favor again, this time with his long-time friend, the Czar Alexander. His chances of reuniting with the empress in Vienna during the Congress were as slim as ever.
As the prince took her hand and bent low over it, Christina noticed the gray in his dark hair. Since coming to Vienna and rediscovering so many of her friends of old, she was beginning to realize how much of her old life she really did miss. Many of these people had almost been like family to her, and she had to admit that it was good to see them again.
“Adam, how have you been? It's been too long, my friend.”
“How have
you
been, Christina?” he asked, keeping hold of her hand, his kindly gaze searching her face.
Shaking her head, she laughed, as she looked him over. “My God, you rogue! You only grow more handsome with age.”
“Now, aren't you sorry you turned me down?” he teased with a smile curving his sensuous lips.
“You know very well that if I had accepted you, I would have kicked you silly when you started to make eyes at the empress.”
“If I'd had you, I would not have made eyes at the empress.” Even as he jested with her she saw a deep sorrow cloud his dark eyes. The affair between those two had truly been one born of a deep love.
Tears tickled Christina's nose as she looked at Adam. It was sad to think that now they had more in common then ever before. “Have you seen the empress?”
He smiled ruefully at her, squeezing her hand before finally letting it go. “I dare not; Alexander has me watched constantly. I don't wish to bring his anger down upon her. She has enough sorrows to bear. It seems only the good are so cursed, eh?” He glanced at Sergei, standing a polite distance away. “I have heard Varek is in Vienna.”
Not trusting her voice, she just nodded.
“That rough, is it?”
“That and more.”
They looked at each other in sympathy, silently understanding and commiserating with each other's anguish. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing. “What a pair we make,” he chuckled. “A most unlikely couple of lonely hearts.”
“I am married again,” Christina assured him hurriedly.
Adam glanced sharply at her, then whistled. “I can just imagine how Varek is taking that bit of news.” Then mumbled under his breath, “The poor bastard.”
Christina's brows rose in query. “Who? Varek?”
“Lord, no!” he laughed. “How could one ever apply a hint of pity to Varek? No, I mean the poor man who is your husband.”
Christina stiffened, her manner cooling slightly. “What are you implying, Adam?”
His gaze was too candid as he confided, “I've been there, Christina. I know better than anyone what you are going through. How can the poor bastard win? You and Varek were born for each other. It was apparent to anyone who ever saw the two of you together. And what is killing you is that you know it, and no matter how faithful you will always remain to your husband, there still won't be a day in your life that you won't wish him in Hell and your one true love back in your arms.”
She gasped, stepping back, feeling Sergei behind her. Anger and a sense of betrayal shivered along nerves already rubbed raw. “I thought you my friend, Adam?”
“I am, my dear. That is why I can tell you the brutal truth. Do you think there is not a day that goes by that I don't wish the same fate for the best friend I ever had, and all because I covet his wife?” His words were brutal and stark.
Yes, it was true. More and more she found herself wishing that she had never met Robert, had never been weak enough to marry him. If only she had been stronger...
Adam drew a gentle finger along Christina's flushed cheek before he stepped back and gave her a bow. Without another word, he turned about and sauntered off, idly swinging his cane as he walked. Most people who noticed this impeccably dressed gentleman would have thought he had not a care in the world.
Christina hurriedly stepped forward. “Adam.”
He paused and looked back.
“Come and call on me. Please. It is so good to see you again, and there is still much we have to say to each other, years to share.” Sergei took the card she held out and crossed the distance to deliver it. Adam smiled warmly as he accepted it and tucked it safely in his pocket. There were not many doors opened to him lately; Czar Alexander had seen to that.
“You know where my residence is,” he called back. “The door will always be open to you when you need a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. Hell, I just may wet your cheek with a few of my own.” He touched his cane to the brim of his hat in a jaunty salute before he disappeared into the crowd.
Christina stared after him, a frown creasing her brow. “Is true love always so doomed, Sergei?” she murmured, “And if so, then why do we bother?” Not really expecting an answer to her gloomy musings, she turned and climbed into the carriage.
The next day was too beautiful to be wasted indoors with another interminable afternoon of the usual squabbling between the ladies of the committee, so Christina begged Sergei to escort her out on an aimless afternoon of wandering through the menageries along the avenue Jaegerzeile. The weather was brisk and clear, and for the first time in a long while, Christina was able to relax. She even let Sergei tease her into a full-bellied laugh that had her gasping for air. It felt so good, she laughed again just for the sheer pleasure of it.
Together they paused to watch a couple of dwarfs on stage dancing with some puppets. Then, hearing the roar of a lion, their curiosity pulled them along. Christina turned toward Sergei, intending to point out some monkeys to her companion, when a head of golden hair caught her eye. She stopped short, staring, her breath caught in her throat.
Sergei, unaware of her preoccupation, had walked a few paces ahead of her before he realized she was no longer at his side. Looking back, he was startled at the ravaged expression on her pale face. Following the line of her vision, he spied Varek standing near the cage of a tiger. In his arms was the most beautiful little girl he had ever seen. She was the image of her majestic father. Quickly, he retraced his steps back to Christina's side.
As if he sensed her behind him, Varek turned and looked straight into Christina's eyes. The laughter on his face died slowly; then he gently set his daughter on her feet and led her over to them.
He bowed courteously to her and gave Sergei a brief nod. “Good morning, lark,” he greeted her warmly, his voice low so only she could hear.
Christina couldn't seem to find her tongue. Her gaze was riveted on his daughter.
Oh, God, his daughter. The child she couldn't give him.
She didn't know what she felt. Her breathing was erratic, she had broken out in a cold sweat and the ground beneath her tilted. Varek's child by another woman. This beautiful little angel should have been
hers.