Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(98)

He moved his hand to the flat surface of her belly, and he held her gaze questioningly. She gave him a small nod in answer, her cheeks turning carmine.

Nikolas drew in a deep breath. His child with Emma, a part of himself inside her…The thought caused, not elation, but instead a kind of astonished humility that he had been given such a chance. He had been haunted by three children in his life: Misha, the brother he had been powerless to save; Jake, the boy he had failed and denied; and Alexei, the son forever lost to him. To be able to see his child born, to take part in his—or her—life, to wipe away the wreck of his past with a new beginning…Nikolas bent his head over Emma's and buried his face in the vibrant mass of her hair.

“You're pleased, then?” Emma asked, her arms locked around his neck.

For a while he was unable to reply. “You're my whole world,” he finally said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

After a lively Christmas morning, during which the servants exchanged presents in the great hall and the Angelovskys held their private celebration in the family parlor, the house was filled with torn paper and ribbons. Knowing that the guests for their lavish Christmas party would arrive soon, Emma changed into a blue silk dress trimmed with narrow black braid. The skirt was simple, with no flounces or ruffles, only a wide trim of black fringe. She wore no jewelry except for the tiger brooch, pinned to the froth of white lace at her throat.

Maids were dispatched to clean the colorful clutter of discarded boxes and wrappings, while the cook and kitchen staff bustled to prepare a Christmas feast for approximately two hundred guests. Appetizing English smells of roasted stuffed turkey and goose mingled with the Russian dishes of mushrooms and cream, seasoned cabbage, and the rum-soaked yeast-and-raisin cake called baba aurhum. Jake raced around the house in unrestrained glee, brandishing his new toys and asking impatiently when his cousins would arrive.

“Soon,” Emma promised, unable to keep from laughing at the contrast between Jake's happy expectation and his father's resigned air. She knew that Nikolas wasn't looking forward to meeting with the Stokehursts, especially Luke. The two men had never been on good terms, and since the wedding, Nikolas had been more than happy to avoid his father-in-law.

Catching Emma's amused glance, Nikolas managed a grimace that almost passed for a smile.

She went over to him and kissed his cheek. “It will be painless,” she murmured. “Everyone will be in a festive mood, and my parents are quite pleased to be attending. Stop looking as though you're about to have a tooth extracted.”

“Are you planning to tell your family about the baby?”

“I'd like to keep it private for a while.”

He nuzzled the soft tendrils of hair near her ear. Before he could answer, Rashel Sidarova appeared in the doorway. “A parade of carriages is coming along the drive,” she said breathlessly.

“Thank you, Rashel.” Emma clapped her hands in excitement and pulled Nikolas along to welcome their guests.

Soon the house was filled with conversation and merriment. A score of children gathered around the large Christmas tree in the central hall, while the adults congregated in the drawing room to sip spiced wine, eggnog, and a Russian beverage flavored with fermented honey. Lord Shepley, a guest with well-known musical talent, played Christmas carols on the piano while others lent their voices in song. Emma relaxed as she saw how well the afternoon was progressing. Her father and Nikolas were polite to each other, keeping their respective distances and taking refuge in watching the antics of the children. Tasia, who looked lovely in a gown of plum silk, caught Emma's gaze and winked.

Deciding to check on the cook's progress with the first course of dinner, Emma slipped discreetly out of the parlor. She hummed a few bars of “Deck the Halls” as she walked toward the kitchen. Suddenly a hand grasped lightly at her elbow. She whirled around in surprise and saw Nikolas. Her lips parted to ask a question, but he caught her face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

“Why did you do that?” she asked when she had a chance to speak.

Nikolas gestured toward the ceiling, to a sprig of mistletoe that someone had hung in the hallway. “I could use that as an excuse. But I would have done it anyway.”

A smile curved Emma's lips. “You should be entertaining the guests.”

“I'd rather be entertaining you.”

She laughed and pushed at his chest, but he tightened his arms around her. “I want to be alone with you,” he said, his mouth descending on hers.

All at once they were interrupted by an unexpected sound—the naughty giggling of children. Emma stiffened and broke the kiss, turning to the intruders. Hot color flooded up to her hairline as she saw the group of three children: Jake and her half brothers, William and Zack…and they were accompanied by her father.

Luke's face was expressionless, but one dark brow lifted quizzically.

Jake broke the silence. “Don't mind them,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They're always doing that.”

Blushing, Emma wrenched free of her husband's embrace and yanked at the waist of her bodice to settle it in place. “Where are the four of you going?” she asked, trying to cover her discomfort.

Jake grinned cheerfully. “I'm taking them to see my pony, Ruslan.”

“Don't let us keep you,” Nikolas muttered.