Golden Paradise Read Online Free Page B

the scorching heat and Countess Lazaroff. He had no tolerance for bluestocking women and less for unbecoming nonconformist females with a propensity for emphatic declarative statements. She was entirely lacking in the feminine graces and attributes that attracted him to women. In fact, she was damned annoying.
    Both seemed mildly irritated at the course of their conversation, and the remainder of the ride into Aleksandropol passed in a peevish silence.

Chapter Two
    A s they approached Aleksandropol, the Russian army's base of operations eighteen miles from the Turkish border, Stefan said in a voice brusque with fatigue, "Until we reach our lodging, I expect you to obey my orders. The city's jammed with veterans of the siege." He didn't say they'd been without women for weeks. Instead he added, "Soldiers at war can't be expected to act like gentlemen." He hoped she wouldn't argue, because he wasn't in the mood to deal with any more of her idiosyncrasies.
    Surveying the ranks of lounging soldiers at the city gate, all appearing remarkably large and burly, their eyes trained on her in a disconcerting way, Lisaveta judiciously replied, "Yes, sir."
    Stefan glanced down at her swiftly, for her quiet tone and manner were extremely unlike her previous confidence.
    "Are we safe from that mob?" she asked, uncertainty prominent in her voice. She was seeing lust with brutal clarity, and it took enormous control to keep her voice from shaking. Stefan was only one man, she thought. Could even his rank protect her from what she saw in the soldiers' eyes? It was the same look she'd seen in Faizi's eyes, although his had been a more leisured inspection. Under the circumstances she felt sure none of these men were interested in leisurely concerns.
    Before Stefan could answer he was recognized and a series of cheers erupted, traveling down the ranks of men in a spontaneous cry of welcome. Gruff voices called to him as commander and comrade as they passed through the medieval gate and entered the narrow cobbled streets of the city. Stefan acknowledged the noisy clamor, responding to his men with casual waves and a smile, with personal comments to one and then another, recognizing a remarkable number of men by name. It was obvious he was a hero to them, adored and revered and loved.
    But beneath camaraderie and facetious banter, Lisaveta was still aware of the soldiers' eyes dwelling on her as they passed, as hungry wolves would survey a tender lamb. Unconsciously she moved closer to the large man behind her.
    After a dozen turns and a winding uphill climb, the crowds of soldiers thinned, the shouting died away, and they reached a small villa the Prince must have known of, for he made no inquiries on the way. Riding through a gateway into a paved courtyard walled round with a low wrought-iron railing, Stefan said, "Wait here," and slid to the ground, his hands steadying Lisaveta on the saddle. Handing her his Colt revolver, he added, "Shoot anyone who comes too close."
    "Shoot?" Lisaveta said, not reaching for the extended weapon.
    He looked at her for a moment, not wishing to alarm her unduly. But even nondescript as she was, women were in such rare supply she should have a firearm for protection. "A precaution only, mademoiselle" he said, "until I return."
    "Should I come in with you?" Brave under normal circumstances, she knew she was seriously outnumbered with thousands of troops in Aleksandropol.
    "I'll only be a moment," Stefan replied, knowing he'd have to oust the villa's current occupants. He outranked them, but sometimes more than a polite request was required. Additionally, he couldn't be certain the men wouldn't be "entertaining" themselves with some of the available women, a situation that could prove embarrassing for his passenger. Placing the Colt in her hand, he wrapped her fingers around the grip and asked, "Can you shoot?"
    Lisaveta nodded, mute and touched with apprehension.
    He gave her a smile, the first she'd seen since