Susan Johnson Read Free Page A

him.
    “What’s your name?” he said when he shouldn’t.
    “Teo.”
    Her voice was genial and melodious although the contrast to Natalie’s termagant shrieks may have enhanced its sweetness. “What’s your real name?”
    “Theodora Ostyuk.”
    “Not Korsakova?”
    “No, never.” She smiled as she repeated the words he’d so recently spoken.
    “Would you like a robe?” he abruptly said, because he unexpectedly found her smile fascinating.
    “Do I need one?” And then she laughed—a refreshing, light sound. “Do you scowl like that often?”
    “Natalie’s too fresh a memory.”
    “I understand. Have you ever been just friends with a woman?”
    It took him so long to answer, she teasingly said, “You must be ignoring me, General, although your reputation precedes you. But I’m not like Natalie,” she lightly went on. “I’m actually faithful to my husband so I’m not going to seduce you. Do you mind?”
    “No, not at all.”
    “How ungracious,” she mocked.
    “I meant, no, not with Natalie’s screams still echoing in my ears. Why are you faithful to your husband?” It was a novel attitude in the current flux and upheavals of society.
    “Will you play a game of chess with me?”
    “Now?”
    Evasive but not a no, she decided, and she found she didn’t want to be alone in the middle of the night with her husbands image freshly brought to mind, so she cajoled. “I could tell you about faithfulness while we play and Natalie
has
rather disrupted my sleep,” she reminded him.
    “A short game, then, while you define a faithful wife. A rarity in my world,” he softly declared.
    “And in mine as well. Men of course aren’t required to be faithful.”
    “So I understand.”
    “A realistic appraisal. Should I put on a robe?”
    “I think it might be wise.”
    He played chess the way he approached warfare, moving quickly, decisively, always on the attack. But she held her own, although her style was less aggressive, and when he took her first knight after long contention for its position, he said, “If your husband’s half as good as you, he’ll be a formidable opponent.”
    “I’m not sure you fight the same way.”
    “You’ve seen him in battle?”
    “On a small scale. Against my grandfather in Siberia.”
    “And yet you married him?”
    “Not by choice. The Russians traditionally take hostages from their conquered tribes. I’m the Siberian version. My clan sends my husband tribute in gold each year. So you see why I’m valuable to him.”
    “Not for gold alone, I’m sure,” he said, beginning to move his rook.
    “How gallant, Andre,” she playfully declared.
    His gaze came up at the sound of his name, his rook poised over the board, and their glances held for a moment. The fire crackled noisily in the hearth, the ticking of the clock sounded loud in the stillness, the air suddenly took on a charged hush, and then the general smiled—a smooth, charming smile. “You’re going to lose your bishop, Teo.”
    She couldn’t answer as suavely because her breath was caught in her throat and it took her a second to overcome the strange, heated feeling inundating her senses.
    His gaze slid down her blushing cheeks and throat to rest briefly on her taut nipples visible through her white cashmere robe and he wondered what was happening to him that so demure a sight had such a staggering effect on his libido. He dropped his rook precipitously into place, inhaled, and leaned back in his chair as if putting distance between himself and such tremulous innocence would suffice to restore his reason.
    “Your move,” he gruffly said.
    “Maybe we shouldn’t play anymore.”
    “Your move.” It was his soft voice of command.
    “I don’t take orders.”
    “I’d appreciate it if you’d move.”
    “I’m not sure I know what I’m doing anymore.” He lounged across from her, tall, lean, powerful, with predatory eyes, the softest of voices, and the capacity to make her tremble.
    “It’s