From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(13)
Which was, if one turned the idea on its head, rather a liberating thought, for the worst that could be said of her had already been said. Allison smiled slowly. What’s more, what was damned in London was positively encouraged in St Petersburg. Why should she make a virtue of resistance?
She enjoyed sparring with the Count. He brought out a teasing, playful side of her that she didn’t recognise. Another sign that she was emerging from the fog of the last six months? Smiling to herself, Allison sat down at the dressing table and took a brush to her hair. Perhaps so, but it wasn’t only that. It was him. Count Aleksei Derevenko. If she was being skittish—and she did feel rather skittish—then she’d have said that he had been fashioned to her precise design. She’d responded to his body on a basic, visceral level that was unknown to her, and she had flirted—yes, unbelievably, that is what she had done, she’d flirted with him. What’s more, she’d enjoyed it.
And so had he. He’d wanted to kiss her last night. Had they not been in the ballroom of the Winter Palace—Allison paused mid-brushstroke. She couldn’t believe they had nearly kissed in the middle of a ball in the Winter Palace.
She resumed her brushing and rolled her eyes at her reflection. She had far too much to lose to make a fool of herself over a man who was her employer, but provided she kept that salient fact in her head, where was the harm in indulging in a light flirtation, if he too was so inclined? She had nothing to lose. She was in St Petersburg, after all. It was pretty much expected of her. What the hell, why not!
Chapter Three
The Square Room, where Aleksei had first encountered Allison Galbraith, was a suitably private and soberly oppressive venue for their next, crucial meeting. A room which epitomised the suffocating world of the Imperial court. A world which he had rejected and in which his brother had flourished, strangely enough, for though Michael had been a pompous prig, he’d had integrity and he had been scrupulously honest, both qualities in short supply in the court of the Tsars.
The aristocrats he had mingled with last night at the Winter Palace ball seemed like strangers to Aleksei. It was not on their behalf that he had fought for his homeland. Last night had confirmed what his gut had told him from the moment he arrived: he did not belong here in this chaotic city so singularly lacking the rules, discipline, the sense of order to which he was accustomed. The sooner he could escape it the better. Which meant getting to the bottom of the conundrum he faced.
He checked his watch. Five minutes before Miss Galbraith was due. He got to his feet. One thing to be said for the sprawling Derevenko Palace, it provided abundant opportunities for anxious pacing. He hadn’t expected to enjoy the company of the woman who would assist him in his search for the truth, but he had, very much. She had resolve, she had a ready wit and a great deal of poise. Her early encounter with Arakcheev had unsettled her, the general’s salacious remarks had made her furious, but she had quickly regained her composure, deftly handling the gossip and speculation which had followed them around the ballroom for the rest of the evening.
Gossip and speculation which, given her appearance, he ought to have anticipated. Allison Galbraith had a lush sensuality that was all the more enticing because she seemed blissfully unaware of it. No doubt she received more than her fair share of unwelcome propositions. And last night, he’d actually suggested that if circumstances were different...
Aleksei winced. He hadn’t actually propositioned her, but the implication had been there. To be fair to himself, he was pretty certain that the attraction was astonishingly, delightfully—and extremely inconveniently, mutual. Though by all that was precious, wasn’t the situation complicated enough without that!
It had been too long since he’d been able to enjoy the company of any woman. Frustration, that was all it was, he told himself. Though if that was true, why hadn’t he been attracted to one of the many other beautiful women he had been introduced to last night?
Because he couldn’t trust any of them, of course. And because none of them had that—that certain something which Allison Galbraith possessed. Something which made him sure, absolutely certain, that together they would be...
Dammit! She was here for a very specific purpose, and if he wanted to take advantage of her skills, he could not risk being distracted by her body. He was a rational man, he was a man who had forged a very successful military career by putting discipline above all else. Now was not the moment to change the habit of a lifetime.
But on the other hand, must a desire to conclude his business here as quickly as possible preclude enjoying the company of the woman who would help him do just that? How long had it been since he’d been able to indulge in even the lightest of dalliances? Months? It felt more like years. He would not go so far as to say he deserved the tempting Miss Galbraith, but didn’t he deserve some sort of mild flirtation?
But what if he was mistaken? What if he was imagining the attraction to be mutual simply because he wanted it to be? And really, wasn’t he getting his priorities all wrong?
As if in agreement with this very point, the double doors were flung open, the servant announced her, and Allison made a curtsy. ‘Good morning, your Illustrious Highness.’
*
He looked just as striking as he had at the ball, Allison thought to herself. Last night had not been a dream, then.
‘Good morning,’ the Count said, ‘and it is Aleksei while we are alone, if you please. In company, Count Derevenko will suffice. Hearing Your Illustrious Highness makes me want to glance over my shoulder to see my brother enter the room. Though actually he preferred Your Serene Highness. Michael was a stickler for etiquette, with a predilection for pomp and ceremony. As you’ll have gathered from our surroundings,’ he added, waving vaguely at the huge reception room in which they were ensconced.