What Wild Moonlight (22 page)

His gaze moved over her crimson gown with a look of bleary-eyed admiration. “Undoubtedly red, Miss Alexander.”

She nodded and placed her token on red, then formed her lips into a pretty pout as the wheel came up black.

“It’s far more complicated than merely choosing red or black,” he rushed to assure her, his chest puffed out with pompous dignity. “Do allow me to assist you.”

He leaned solicitously toward her and explained the rules of the game. Under his tutelage, she commenced to lose one hundred francs within the space of five minutes. “It appears we are not a lucky combination,” she concluded with a soft sigh. “Perhaps I shall try again later.”

She smiled and stepped away from him. As she moved to leave the crowded gaming room, Nicholas materialized at her side. She withdrew Lord Chalmers’s gold hotel key from within her glove and flashed it discreetly toward him. “I shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ll keep him occupied until you return.” As she turned to leave, he caught her arm. “Be careful, Katya.”

She considered his grave features and sent him a soft smile of reassurance. “What could possibly go wrong?” she asked lightly.

Their eyes met and held for one long, breathless moment. Nicholas’s dark gaze seemed to burn into hers, marking her with deep, possessive hunger. Finally he released her arm and she moved wordlessly away. She exited the casino and stepped onto the paved path that led to the Hotel de Paris.

Amazing what Nicholas could do to her with just one searing look. His mere presence left her intoxicated. She felt light-headed and giddy, completely unstable—as though a thousand fluttering butterflies had been turned loose in her belly. Although she knew her feet were touching the pavement, she moved as though she were swept up in a tumultuous cloud of emotion and desire.

The sound of a soft footfall behind her interrupted her thoughts. Katya glanced behind her only to find the street curiously empty. She gave a mental shrug and proceeded a few more yards when she heard the sound again—the distinct sound of a man’s boots striking pavement. She turned abruptly and scanned the street. Nothing. The only movement she saw was the swaying of the palm branches in the night breeze.

Despite the visual assurance that she was alone, her instincts told her otherwise.

Increasing her pace, she moved rapidly toward the hotel and stepped into the grand, cavernous lobby. Once inside, she was somewhat comforted by the presence of the hotel’s guests and staff. Even if someone had been following her, she was relatively safe in the hotel. Seizing that reassuring thought, she gave the night clerk a polite nod and examined the window displays of the exclusive shops that filled the lobby. She glanced from time to time at the reflections in the glass, but saw no one who looked even mildly suspicious, let alone watching her.

Her courage restored, she proceeded up the red-carpeted steps to the room indicated on Lord Chalmers’s key. She found his room and inserted the key; the door swung smoothly open. Katya took a last glance down the hall. Satisfied that no one was about, she took a deep breath, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her.

The chamber was pitch dark, filled with an empty, hollow silence. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, then cautiously scanned the space. Lord Chalmers had leased a suite, she noted. The room in which she stood served as a sort of formal sitting parlor. To her left was a separate chamber that had been partitioned off as sleeping quarters. Rather than light a gas lamp and risk detection, she moved toward the window and parted the draperies. The space was immediately flooded with the soft, silvery glow of moonlight. Deciding that this was adequate, she began her search in the bedchamber. She had barely completed her preliminary search of Lord Chalmers’s bed, pillows, and dresser drawers, when she heard a faint click in the outer chamber.

Katya froze, her pulse hammering in her ears.

She stood unmoving, straining to hear more.

Nothing.

Nothing but the faint sound of her own shallow breathing.

Then she heard it. A soft, almost imperceptible creak coming from the outer chamber. The sound made by a foot striking a squeaky floorboard. Her heart slammed against her ribs as a wave of terror washed over her. Was there someone in the suite with her? She stood absolutely still, paralyzed by fear.

Finally she summoned the courage to move. Her eyes wide and her heart drumming madly, she padded softly into Lord Chalmers’s parlor and scanned the space. To her overwhelming relief, the room was completely empty and still save for the draperies fluttering in the breeze.

The draperies fluttering in the breeze…

Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown. She knew she had opened the draperies, but hadn’t the window been—

An arm shot out of the darkness and caught her about the waist, pulling her off her feet. Before she could react, a rough male hand slammed over her mouth, choking off her cry of alarm.

“Quiet.”

The word was whispered in her ear with rough urgency. Katya didn’t hesitate to ignore the command. She opened her mouth and emitted a muffled scream as she raised her foot and slammed her heel down hard on her captor’s instep.

She heard a softly sworn oath, followed by the words, “Dammit, Katya, it’s me!”

It took her a moment to recognize Nicholas’s voice through the fog of terror that held her in its grip. Once it did, relief poured through her—followed immediately by anger.

“I’m going to release my hand,” he whispered, speaking slowly and distinctly. “When I do, don’t speak. Don’t even move. Do you understand?”

She nodded obediently.

As soon as he removed his hand she spun around and demanded, “What in blazes are you—”

He immediately covered her mouth again.

Katya sent him an indignant glare and moved to jerk his hand away when she heard the sound of voices approaching from down the hall. One voice in particular caught her attention. Lord Chalmers. Her eyes widened in horrified understanding as her startled gaze flew to Nicholas. His features grim, he sent her a curt nod and released his hand.

This time Katya made no sound. Instead her gaze moved about the room, searching frantically for a way out. Nicholas must have gained access through the second-story window. While that offered the best escape route for him, it was not an option for her—not while she was dressed in a floor length ball gown and high-heeled satin slippers. He must have come to the same conclusion, for after a brief glance at the window he turned away and quickly scanned the room, searching for a place to hide.

The obvious solution would have been to crawl beneath the bed. Unfortunately, the mattress was dressed with only a short coverlet; there was no bedskirt to conceal them.

The footsteps echoed closer, then Lord Chalmers’s voice carried into the room. “I know I had the blasted thing in my pocket.”

“You’re certain the door is locked?” responded a female voice.

“Of course it’s locked. Why wouldn’t it be locked?” Chalmers replied shortly. “Now if I can just find the bloody key…”

The doorknob rattled.

Katya’s gaze flew to the small table beside the door. With a jolt of dismay, she realized she had forgotten to lock the door behind her. The key rested on top of the table, exactly where she had set it after admitting herself.

The knob rattled again—and then turned. The door began to swing open.

“How very odd,” began Chalmers.

The rest of his words were lost as Nicholas grabbed her by the arm and gave her a sharp tug, breaking her free from her frozen stupor. He pulled her to a tall wardrobe that stood between the bedroom and parlor. Throwing open the thick door panels, he thrust her inside then immediately followed, quietly shutting the panels behind him.

The fit was tight—their bodies were pressed together—but the wardrobe was tall enough so that they could comfortably stand. Katya held her breath, afraid to emit even the slightest sound. The heavy tread of a man’s boots moving over the wooden floorboards told her that Lord Chalmers had entered the room. The sound was followed by the click of a delicate heel and the soft rustle of a woman’s gown. Her curiosity stirred, Katya peaked through a knothole in the wooden door. She instantly recognized the woman as Gabriella, the stunning redheaded courtesan Nicholas had pointed out earlier.

As Katya watched, Gabriella sent Lord Chalmers a smile of calculated seduction. “The emeralds are beautiful, darling,” she cooed. She lifted her wrist and gave the glittering bracelet she wore a soft shake. “If it weren’t for your little gift, I’d have nothing to wear with my gown. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Chalmers smiled and drew the ravishing redhead closer. “On the contrary, my dear,” he said, “I think you know exactly how to thank me.”

Katya lowered her gaze as heat stained her cheeks. Apparently Lord Chalmers’s frequent trips to his hotel room had nothing to do with the scroll—and everything to do with an illicit rendezvous with one of Monaco’s most celebrated courtesans. With that clear, she would have liked nothing more than to beat a hasty retreat. Unfortunately she and Nicholas were trapped where they stood, reluctant witnesses to the torrid affair.

The ridiculousness of their position was suddenly vividly clear. In a moment of comic horror, she tried to imagine what she would say if Lord Chalmers were to open the wardrobe and she and Nicholas came tumbling out. She bit her lips as a wave of nervous, almost hysterical laughter welled up inside her.

Katya took a deep, sobering breath and forced herself to remain calm. Putting their situation in perspective, she reasoned that they needed to remain hidden for likely no more than an hour—any longer than that and Lord Chalmers’s wife would undoubtedly begin to wonder where her husband was.

It might have helped if she had been facing Nicholas so that they could at least communicate. But they had hastily stepped into the wardrobe one right after the other. As a result, they were both facing in the same direction, with her back snuggled up tightly against Nicholas’s chest. All they could do was stand silently and wait.

A moment later, she was glad that Nicholas couldn’t see her face. She heard the distinctive sound of clothing falling on the floor, followed by Lord Chalmers’s low, passionate groan. It occurred to her with unforeseen clarity that people do not make love in total silence. She and Nicholas were about to be made privy to every noise and utterance made by the unsuspecting couple. But short of revealing their presence in the room, there was no way to avoid it.

She heard Gabriella’s throaty giggle, followed by a whispered endearment. The sound of high-heeled slippers hitting the floor echoed through the room. Then a whoosh of skirts, a soft thud, and another giggle. Had Gabriella just fallen onto the bed or onto a chair? Before Katya could resolve that question, she heard a wet, rhythmic noise that could only be described as sucking. Was Lord Chalmers sucking his mistress’s fingers, or some other portion of her anatomy?

Horrified that she had posed such a question—even if only to herself—Katya tried desperately to divert her thoughts. But she couldn’t ignore the sensual noises surrounding her. The soft groan, the tittering laugh, the feathery sigh, the brush of clothing hitting the floor. The sounds were inescapable.

Cognizant that Nicholas was also hearing everything, Katya’s embarrassment rose to new heights. What was he thinking as they stood in guilty silence listening to another couple making love? Nervous suspense churned in her belly as she considered his response. With every second that passed, the space in which they hid seemed to grow even darker and more confined. Her nerves felt stripped raw and her senses were almost painfully heightened, so alert was she to every sound and motion. She was far too aware of the feeling of Nicholas’s body squeezed against hers, too aware of the way his breath softly fanned the back of her neck; too aware of the way his strong, muscular thighs brushed against hers.

Just when she thought she could stand it no longer, Nicholas lifted his hand and traced his fingers lightly from her elbow to her shoulder. The relief that that small physical contact brought was almost dizzying. There was a question in his touch, and Katya replied without thinking. She nearly collapsed against him as he wrapped his arm around her waist, so strong was the desire that had been swelling within her.

He lowered his head and pressed a series of sweet, searing kisses along her shoulder blade, then he shifted slightly and traced his lips over the nape of her neck. As his mouth and tongue made contact with the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, a rush of tingling heat shot through her body. She shivered and threw back her head, giving him greater access to her tender skin.

She felt as though she were melting with yearning, so intense was her need for him. It seemed that the more Nicholas touched her, the more he awakened the fire within her, stoking and building the flames until they threatened to rage out of control. She couldn’t get close enough to him. She moved with wanton abandon, pressing her back against his chest, crushing her bottom against his groin, locking her foot around his calf, running her hands down his lean hips—striving unthinkingly to make their bodies one.

Nicholas seemed to be caught in the same torrent of desire that held her in its thrall. His hands wandered fervently over her body with no apparent purpose but to explore and entice. He stroked her thighs, caressed her hips, captured her waist, and tickled her ribs. His touch was magic. Boundless. Reaching beneath the satin bodice of her gown, he cupped her breasts in his palms and moved his thumbs over the taut, hard buds of her nipples, teasing the tender flesh into firm peaks.

Katya drew in a sharp breath, then released a soft, fluttering sigh. She was overwhelmed with carnal curiosity and unhindered by propriety. Her body felt marked, burned by Nicholas’s touch. Nothing else mattered. As he caressed her breasts, she rubbed her bottom against his hips. His manhood leaped to life against her skirts. She experienced a momentary surge of pride at the effect she had on him, but her thoughts quickly turned to baser matters as his hand went from her breast to the juncture of her thighs. He moved his palm rhythmically, cupping her most intimate of places through the crimson satin of her skirts. Katya gasped as shock, apprehension, and desire spiraled through her in equal measure. She arched her back and lifted her arms, reaching behind her to touch Nicholas’s face.