Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(35)

“Carrying you across the threshold,” Nikolas replied. “It's an English tradition, yes?”

“Only when the bride happens to be smaller than the groom! Don't—I'm too heavy! Please put me down—”

“Stop struggling, or I'll drop you.”

Emma groaned in an agony of embarrassment as Nikolas carried her inside the manor and through the entrance hall, past the waiting staff. There were a few murmurs and giggles as the servants watched their master proceed to the staircase that led to the upstairs suites.

“Aren't you going to introduce me to them?” Emma asked, glancing back at the waiting group.

“Tomorrow. Tonight I want to be alone with you.”

“I can walk the rest of the way. You'll hurt your back.”

“This is nothing,” he scoffed. “I've carried deer across my shoulders that weighed twice as much as you.”

“How flattering!” Emma was silent with mortification the rest of the way. Nikolas brought her to the new suite he had decorated for her, and set her down in the middle of the bedroom.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly, turning in a slow circle.

“If you don't like it, we'll have it changed.”

“Change?” she repeated dazedly. “I wouldn't dream of it.” The suite, with separate rooms for receiving visitors, changing clothes, bathing, and sleeping, was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen before. It was suitable for royalty, decorated in shades of blue and lined with glass columns. Priceless artwork in heavy silver frames adorned the walls. A Russian heating stove covered with rose-lavender tiles occupied a place in the corner. The bed was enormous, covered in dark blue, embroidered silk and piled high with tasseled pillows.

Opening the door of a mahogany armoire, Emma found it empty except for a few articles of her trousseau that had been sent a few days before. “Where are your clothes?” she asked in surprise.

“My suite is at the other end of the wing.”

“We won't be sharing a room?”

Nikolas shook his head, and Emma blushed at her mistake. Her father and Tasia always shared a bed, beginning and ending each day in each other's arms. Naively Emma had assumed that Nikolas would desire the same arrangement. If he stayed in his own separate suite, they would miss all the little intimacies that made a husband and wife comfortable with each other. But apparently Nikolas didn't want such familiarity. Perhaps it was better this way…or perhaps someday he might change his mind.

She wandered over to a mahogany table covered with a collection of small, carved figurines. A smile appeared on her face as she picked up one of the objects, a white coral swan with a gold beak and sapphire eyes. There was a malachite frog, a gold lion, an ivory elephant, an amethyst wolf with gold paws, as well as a bear, a fish, and birds, also made of precious metals and stones. She lingered on the most striking figurine of all, a snarling amber tiger with yellow diamond eyes and seed pearls for teeth.

“The collection belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother Emelia. I thought you might like to have it.”

Emma turned to face him, her eyes shining. “Thank you.”

Nikolas gestured at the tiger in her hand. “That particular piece was said to be her favorite.”

Cautiously Emma approached him and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said again. “You're very good to me, Nikki.”

Nikolas stared at her, while the place her lips had touched seemed to burn. A odd feeling came over him, and he stood very still. The look in Emma's blue eyes, the sound of her voice, the way she held the amber figurine in her hand…it seemed that it had all happened before. His heart began to thump in a heavy rhythm. The air around him turned hot as an image crystallized in his mind…

She picked up the tiger, examining it from every angle. “Look, Nikki. Isn't it beautiful?”

“Very beautiful,” he agreed, his gaze on her glowing face. He broke off long enough to tell the jeweler, “We'll take them all.”

She laughed exuberantly and threw her arms around him. “You're so good to me,” she said against his ear. “You'll make me love you too much.”

He brushed his lips over her soft cheek. “There's no such thing as too much…”

“What is it?” Emma asked, her brow touched with concern.

The vision disappeared. Nikolas shook his head and laughed shortly. “Nothing. A strange feeling.” He took a step back, still staring at her. The thumping of his heart was almost painful. Wiping his hand across his forehead, he discovered he had broken out in a sweat. The sensation he had was similar to that of jumping into an icy river after having been steamed to exhaustion in a Russian bathhouse.

“Are you all right?” Emma persisted.

“Ring for the maid to help with your dress,” he said brusquely, turning and heading for the door. “I'll be back in a little while.”

Emma frowned in confusion. Carefully she set the carved tiger back in place on the table, and stroked its back with her fingertip. The amber glowed as if it had a life of its own.

Nikolas had stared at her so strangely. The expression on his face…the flash of something like fear…his gaze unfocused, as if he beheld some unearthly vision…where had Emma seen that expression before? “Tasia,” Emma said softly. Tasia looked exactly like that whenever she had one of her premonitions. Russians were a superstitious people, Tasia had once explained to her. Their lives were filled with fantasy and mystery, and they believed strongly in omens and signs. What had gone through Nikolas's mind? What vision had he seen?