Once a Princess

Chapter 12

Tanya would have avoided facing Stefan — or, to be more exact, letting him see her face — for as long as possible, but she didn't have much choice in the matter. When Serge turned around at the sound of Stefan's voice, he took her with him, his arm still firmly around her waist. In fact, that put her in the forefront to receive the full blast of those devil eyes. And if her words hadn't made them glow, then her unwashed face definitely set fire to the coals.

But when he moved slowly forward, it was his friends he addressed. "You two were not, by any chance, trying to persuade her — gently — to do as she was told, were you?"

"Certainly not," Lazar assured him. "We were merely discussing responsibilities and the like."

"And keeping her from leaving on her own," Serge added.

"Ah, so we have that to watch for, do we?"

Tanya's boot-heel came down hard on Serge's toe to thank him for his big mouth. He grunted, but not until Stefan stood before her did Serge release her. This he did with a little shove that sent her careening off balance into Stefan's chest. That one's arms came around her to catch her, and stayed there like a steel cage, tangling in the hair at her waist and keeping her pressed to his length. She imagined she could actually feel the vibration of his anger, surrounding her in waves.

"Let go of—"she began, only to be cut off with an emphatic "No." Ominously, for her ears alone, he added, "You will wish to God you had not defied me, Tatiana."

She turned white under the gray pallor of her makeup for about ten seconds. By then her conviction that to them she was a commodity worth a certain price reasserted itself. Accordingly, they wouldn't deliberately damage the goods, no matter how angry one of them was with her. Stefan had to be referring to the spanking he had promised, and as far as she was concerned, that was nothing to worry about.

In the meantime, she heard that there was a carriage now waiting below, that someone named Sasha had been instructed to meet them at the docks with their trunks, that they considered it fortuitous that their quarry had been found in time for them to leave on The Lorilie. But there was no time to waste. The riverboat was to depart within the hour.

And then they were silent, and Tanya felt they were all three looking down at her, though to be sure she'd have to crane her neck to see, pressed so close to Stefan as she still was. Were they waiting for her to react to what she'd just heard? She wasn't dense.

They intended to get her on that boat with them. But perhaps it had finally occurred to them to wonder just how they were going to accomplish that when they didn't have her cooperation.

Apparently she'd read the situation correctly, for Stefan's very next words were, "A crate, I think."

Tanya stiffened, and was about to protest heatedly, but surprisingly, Lazar beat her to it, reminding Stefan, "She is a royal princess."

The royal princess would have snorted in derision that the pretense was still being played out, except Stefan's casual rejoinder was the last straw.

"When she begins to look like one, she may be treated like one."

Tanya twisted around then, no easy feat in her steel cage, to demand of Lazar and Serge, "Are you going to let him get away with that just because he's angry at me?"

Serge wouldn't meet her eyes. Lazar looked chagrined at being put on the spot and said, "I believe it was explained who has authority over you, Tatiana. Whether you are transported or escorted is his decision, but perhaps if you ask him sweetly... "

The thought was allowed to trail off, for her to interpret as she would. Sweetly? No chance in hell would she be sweet to the devil at her back, who was even now turning her around again so she couldn't tempt his friends to her aid with eye contact or a pity stirring expression. As if she would…. Of course she would! How else was she going to escape? Certainly not stuffed in a crate, and one probably from her own storeroom, none of which were big enough to offer her any degree of comfort.

She dropped her head back so she could finally look up at Stefan. He seemed to have been waiting for her to do just that, for she met his gaze directly for a heart pounding moment. And then his eyes moved slowly over her face, so she couldn't doubt that the only thing he was thinking about right now was her gray-smudged complexion, and how it should have been roses and cream.

"You surprise me, Princess," he said in a voice that was merely conversational in tone.

"I was fairly certain that you would have done everything possible to keep me from lifting your skirt again."

Lifting? Oh, God, she hadn't even considered that he might "heat her backside" without letting her skirt serve as padding. Suddenly a spanking from him became something to be concerned about and to be avoided at all costs.

"I'll wash now," she offered in a breathless whisper, hating to make that concession but seeing no alternative.

"Now there is no time."

He wasn't going to give her an out? "I'm not a child, to be — to be—!" She couldn't say it, and a shuffling foot behind her made her realize, horribly, that this conversation had an audience, that they'd heard...

As much as she was coming to despise the man who'd made her blush more today than she ever had in her life, right then all she could think to do was bury her face in his chest and be grateful it was wide enough to do so.

"What you are, Princess," she heard above her in what she hoped was a sigh, rather than a gust of exasperation, "is exceedingly stubborn."

"You expect me to go along with my own abduction?" she mumbled resentfully against his shirt.

"We expect you to honor the betrothal that was arranged and decreed by your own father, and to stop fighting what you cannot change."

She flung back her head furiously. "Stop fighting, when you can't even be truthful? You can't even make up a decent lie to get me to go along with you! You create one that's so implausible—"

"That it can be nothing but the truth."

"The only truth here," she said angrily, "is that I don't want to go with you."

His expression was skeptical. "So you would have us believe you prefer a life of drudgery and servitude, is that it? A life which includes salacious performances both on the stage and in the bedroom?"

Tanya sucked in a sharp breath, then drew back her foot to give his shin her reaction to this latest defaming innuendo. His arms tightened slightly around her, but in reflex rather than retaliation. In no other way did he acknowledge the pain she'd inflicted, so she answered his question in a calm voice that belied the fury behind that kick.

"What I prefer is no one telling me what to do. It took all my life to get to this point, where I have no one to answer to but myself. Now you show up here with your ridiculous tale, your threats, your insults, and your arrogant assumption that you can take over every aspect of my life. Well, you can't. You don't have that right. No one does anymore, and no one ever will again."

"It's too bad there is no time to discuss this unusual existence you desire for yourself, which so few of us ever achieve. As for our right to take you in hand, you are Cardinian by birth, and every Cardinian is subject to the supreme power of his ruling sovereign."

"Like hell. That's what I don't accept, Stefan, so that excuse is not valid as far as I'm concerned. In this country you can't justify what you're attempting to do. It's unlawful no matter how you look at it."

He looked up toward the ceiling to say, "Why am I arguing with her?" which made Tanya bristle until he added in sharp command, "Lazar, Serge, wait for us below." Then she stiffened, filled with apprehension.

His gaze came back to her as the others squeezed past them, and the very fact that his eyes were only sherryhued eased her tension somewhat. But he also brought one hand up to caress the back of her head in what was clearly an attempt to soothe her, and she simply wasn't sure how to interpret that.

"I have concluded, Tatiana, that I was, perhaps, a bit hasty in demanding the removal of your clever disguise. Of course, just now," he added with the softening of his expression which presaged a smile, "it merely gives you the appearance of a grubby urchin. But if that is how you wish to look, so be it.

She didn't trust this mellowness after the storm, not one little bit. "What exactly are you saying?"

"That we will forget the consequence I promised for your defiance, and go on from here with a bargain."

She distrusted that even more, but said, "Go on, I'm listening."

"If you will agree not to cause a disturbance of any sort, then you may board The Lorilie without restraint."

Her eyes narrowed to green sparks. "Otherwise I get crated aboard?"

"Bound, gagged, and crated," he clarified.

"What about this one instead?" she said tightly. "I agree not to tell anyone what you tried to do here, if you simply take yourself off and never darken my door again?"

The arm still around her lower back squeezed just enough to remind her who was ultimately in control right now. "Make no mistake, Tatiana, you are coming with us. Your choice is merely how."

"But I don't want to!" she cried. "Doesn't that matter in the least?"

Slowly he shook his head. She hissed through her teeth in frustration. She was going to be abducted no matter what she said or did, but there was no choice to make in what was being offered, not if she intended to escape at the very first opportunity.

"All right," she said with ill grace. "I'll walk if that's my only option."

"Without causing a disturbance?"

"I won't speak to anyone, if that's what you mean."

"Excellent. Just remember, Tatiana, that this is a bargain, and like any bargain, there will be a consequence to bear if it's broken. I believe you already know what that is."

Don't you dare blush again, missy! He's just trying to put the fear of — him — into you,

but his threats won't be worth sour beans once you escape.

To him she said, "If you're in such an allfired hurry to leave, don't you think it's time you let go of me?"

"What I think is that this bargain needs to be sealed with a kiss first."

"N—!" was all she got out before his lips covered hers.

Tanya would have struggled right away, except it occurred to her that this was a golden opportunity to lure Stefan down a path of confusion, at least where her feelings were concerned. If he was arrogant enough to think she liked his kisses and because of them might be resigned to her fate all the sooner, then he could let down his guard, making her escape that much easier. The trouble was, she did like his kisses. There wasn't the least bit of unpleasantness in the way his mouth moved sensually over hers. So there was no pretense in her yielding to that kiss.

But there was definite danger in her strategy, as she discovered when he finally set her away from him, and it took her a long dreamy moment to be drawn back to the present. Losing herself to the kiss hadn't been part of the plan. Nor had she counted on feeling a very strong desire to draw him back to her mouth for more of the same.

Tanya quickly tamped down that crazy urge, as well as the mushy feeling in her innards. The damned devil had powers she'd better not tempt again. But looking at him, she didn't think he seemed any more pleased with the results of that little experiment than she was.

His next words proved it. "And to think I had actually begun to wonder if a mistake might have been made, that you might — miraculously — be chaste after all. Foolish of me, wasn't it?"

Tanya fought this newest wave of heat surging up her neck to her cheeks, hating for him to know he'd scored another hit so easily if he should notice. But it wasn't just embarrassment that she felt, it was anger too, that he could say something like that just because she had kissed him back. And the anger prompted her reply.

"Well, you won't ever know for sure, will you?" she taunted him.

Stefan merely smiled, a smile that smugly stated as plain as any words, That's what you think. And he had made a promise to her in that regard, hadn't he? Something about her sharing his bed before their journey ended. Why were they all so convinced she was a whore? She almost asked him, but she didn't think she could stand any more insults right now. And there wasn't any time, if his sudden look of impatience could be interpreted correctly.

It could, since he reached for her arm as he turned toward the stairs. "Come along, Tati—"

"Wait a minute!" she cut in sharply. "What about my things?"

He didn't even glance back as he continued to pull her along. "Perhaps next time you will do as you are told when you are told."

In other words, she'd lost her chance to take along even a change of clothes. Tanya almost dug in her heels to protest, just for the hell of it, but she'd just as soon have all her possessions here awaiting her return than risk having to leave anything behind with these devils when the opportunity came to part company with them. She was aware, however, that Stefan thought he was getting some subtle revenge by denying her. So let him think it.

But there was one other matter she had to take care of. It wouldn't hurt to have a little help in getting away from these men, and only Dobbs could supply that by sending someone after her. He couldn't do that if he didn't even know she was gone. And he wouldn't have heard all of the commotion in the hallway to alert him that something was wrong, because it was his habit to sleep right after he finished his breakfast. This he did like a dead man until The Seraglio opened for business in the late afternoon. If he had heard anything, he'd be yelling to find out what was going on.

Tanya dug in her heels this time. "You have to let me at least say goodbye to Dobbs."

He didn't stop, and she was jerked along despite her efforts to hold him back. "Why?" he demanded. "He lied about you, without even knowing why we sought you. That man is no friend of yours."

"I know it, but he's still the closest thing I've ever had to a relative."

"Not anymore."

He said that so automatically, it had a ring of truth that disconcerted her. Lord help her, he was a convincing liar, but she wasn't fooled.

"Let me guess," she sneered. "I suppose you'll tell me now that you are a relative of mine?"

He had her halfway down the stairs, and still didn't even glance back to answer. "We share a common ancestor, five generations removed. We are, in fact, very, very distant cousins."

"And I believe that about as much as I do the rest of what you've told me. You're afraid to let me tell Dobbs I'm leaving."

"I believe he would try to prevent your going, yes. You are, after all, of great service to him, aren't you? A slave without the cost. Very convenient for the man. "

She'd thought the same thing herself when she had become old enough to realize that Dobbs didn't have any right to demand so much from her. Now she was his housekeeper, maid, cook, laundress, nurse, and — for the tavern — manager, clerk, purchasing agent, waitress, sometimes bartender and dancer, and as Stefan and his friends would have it, a whore when she had the time. When, she'd like to know, did she ever have any spare time? But she was finally going to be paid for a whole life of servitude — with The Seraglio.

However, if these men had their way, she was going to lose that, and her freedom as well. They intended to make her a whore in truth. Well, there was no way she was going to let that happen.

They were halfway across the common room when Stefan paused, perhaps realizing that, for the sake of the pretense, he'd been a bit harsh. "If you do have friends you would like to bid farewell to, and they live close by, I suppose we could spare a moment or two for goodbyes."

Friends? The only friends she'd ever had were barmaids, and that was before she'd become their boss. But that wasn't the kind of friends she believed he was referring to, for she'd never felt close to any of them. Only Lelia could she call an actual friend, and that had been for a very short time a long time ago.

"There's no one," she said, her answer immediately saddening her since she'd never really thought about this lack in her life before.

"Not even a lover you are particularly fond of?" Stefan persisted.

Anger instantly replaced her sadness. "Oh, too many. Do we have all day?"

She got jerked along again for that piece of sarcasm, and could have kicked herself when she saw the carriage and the rest of the men, who were going to do all they could to prevent her escape, standing ready to surround her. Couldn't she have named someone, even one of Dobbs' old cronies, instead of trying to get in a dig to annoy Stefan? Great going, missy., Why don't you just help with this abduction? You couldn't be making it any easier for them if you tried.