From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(35)

Aleksei shuddered. ‘Heaven forbid. Besides, ultimately Arakcheev dances to our Emperor’s tune.’

‘Then you must set your sights even higher,’ Allison teased.

‘If I wished to do that, I’d stay in St Petersburg. I’d find a couple of European princes to marry Catiche and Elena off to. I’d abandon my plan to employ some of my former comrades as estate managers and keep Nikki’s empire in my own iron grip. And I grow weary of talking about myself.’

Allison pushed her empty plate to one side and leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hand. ‘Then let us talk of other things.’

Aleksei pushed back his chair, pulling her to her feet. ‘Or we could stop talking altogether.’

There was a gleam in his eye that made her stomach flip. ‘We could. We are off duty after all.’

His hands smoothed up her evening gloves to rest on her shoulders. She stepped closer, reaching up to touch the white-blond kink in his hair. He dipped his head, nipping her earlobe, then kissing the column of her neck. She moaned softly, flattening her hands over the expanse of his shoulders. He slid his hands down her back, cupping her bottom to pull her up against him, and then their mouths met.

Such a kiss. Sweet and deep, a long, slow slaking of a thirst. Enough, just this meeting of lips and this tangling of tongues, it was more than enough for now. Allison closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensations, drowning in their kisses, sinking slowly, into the dark folds of their passion. His hands swept over her body, her bottom, her breasts, the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, sensing her, mapping her, learning her, rousing her. More kisses, and she touched him too, learning his body as he did, not yet frustrated by their clothing, wanting only to kiss and to touch and to kiss, and to lose herself, to forget herself, to submerge herself in the languorous, melting sensations of their kisses, more and more kisses.

And then the nature of the kisses changed, became more urgent, and their hands became more demanding, and their clothes became a barrier, and Allison pressed herself against Aleksei, and he staggered back, and a large serving tureen crashed on to the floor, and they both leapt apart as the door opened, and a sheepish footman asked if they required him to clear the table.

‘No!’ Aleksei cursed under his breath as the servant retreated hastily. ‘Do not tell me he was simply doing his job, I am perfectly well aware of that.’

‘I wasn’t going to say any such thing.’ Allison stared in dismay at the shattered, no doubt priceless, Derevenko china. ‘I can’t think how we came to...’

Aleksei grinned. ‘We were not thinking.’

‘No. But we can’t possibly—at least, not here.’

Her words, the product of her thrumming body, spoken without thinking, seemed to crackle in the air. ‘Do you mean that?’ Aleksei asked. ‘That you would, if...’

Her mouth went dry. She could deny it, but it would be a lie, and who was to say when there would be another chance? ‘Yes.’

Yet he did not move. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, but not...’

‘Not here.’ He kissed her. ‘We will go where we will not be disturbed.’ He kissed her again. ‘Not your chamber. Nor mine. Not any room in this damned palace where a servant is a bell-pull away.’

‘The barge?’ Allison suggested, half-teasing.

‘Too far away, but if you are in the mood to be transported, I have just thought of the perfect venue.’

*

Ten minutes later, after traversing a bewildering maze of corridors and staircases, Aleksei pushed open a huge wooden door. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, as he held the door open, ‘the stables and the grooms’ quarters are in quite another part of the grounds. This is the carriage block, and no one will come here unless summoned, but just to make sure we are not disturbed...’ He turned the key in the lock, then held the lamp high. ‘What do you think? Are you transported?’

‘Good heavens.’ Allison stared around her in astonishment. ‘How can one family possibly require so many sleighs?’

‘The rivers and canals of the city are generally frozen from December until March. A sled is the quickest and safest way to get around. Here,’ Aleksei said, pointing, ‘are the small ones used by servants, which can be drawn by a pony or dogs.’

There were several simply constructed sleds, the main body a basket-like structure, balanced on wooden runners. ‘They are compact enough to be used on the narrowest waterways,’ Aleksei told her. ‘Michael and I had our own sleighs when we were children. Mine was just exactly like this one, but Michael, naturally, had his livery painted on it. It will be Nikki’s now.’

‘And will you teach him to use it?’

‘That is for one of the grooms to do.’

Allison said nothing. Sometimes it was best, she had discovered, to allow her silence to ask the question. And she was rewarded this time.

‘Though the grooms likely have more than enough to occupy them, and if I do say so myself, I reckon I’ll be able to pass on a few winning tips to my nephew.’

‘I hope not a few neck-breaking tips.’

He laughed. ‘No, he’ll discover those for himself. I shall teach him how to sled at a nice sedate pace.’

‘Something tells me that a nice sedate pace is anathema to you.’