wife he still loved but who had died several years previously. He had been killed in a car accident himself only months after their arrangement began, putting Tanya back out onto the streets.
Vladimir wasn’t some random man who only required a climax, or an emotionally wounded man longing for the arms of the wife who had died.
Nor, Vladimir had made it very clear, did he consider her to be just any woman, but the one who was destined—fated—to be his mate.
Tanya knew she should feel repelled at the thought of that. But trying to resurrect her previous feelings of anger was proving harder the longer she spent in Vladimir’s company.
He treated her as if she were someone special.
Had made love to her in the same way, and also given her the first physical pleasure she’d ever known.
He was kind to her.
The latter was possibly the hardest for her to resist. There had been so little kindness in her life since her parents died…
Vladimir or one of his brothers was responsible for those deaths!
Vladimir had said from the beginning and continued to deny that accusation. The longer Tanya spent in his company, the more inclined she was to believe him.
So, if the Romanov brothers hadn’t killed her parents, who had?
Those wild animals the authorities claimed were responsible?
That explanation had never satisfied Tanya.
Firstly, because she no longer believed the Romanov brothers to be coldblooded murderers of innocent people.
Secondly, her parents’ bodies had been found in a forest outside St. Petersburg, which begged the question what were they doing in an area where there was even the possibility of them being attacked by wild animals?
The obvious answer to that was they had been dragon hunting.
Which led straight back to the Romanov brothers somehow being involved.
A conclusion Tanya was finding more and more difficult to believe.
In fact, her thoughts were so conflicted after last night’s lovemaking, they no longer made sense.
Because she was falling for Vladimir?
Had already fallen for him?
Last night, when Vladimir made love to her and held her in his arms afterward, that ants-crawling-under-her-skin sensation had disappeared. This morning, it was back again, admittedly muted, but still there.
The explanation as to why that could be wasn’t in the least appealing if it meant that the itching sensation only happened when Vladimir was near but not actually making love to her.
What about those occasions it had happened during the three months before Vladimir came to the winter palace?
Unless…
Tanya looked up to watch as the beautiful black dragon flew back toward the dacha, the itching growing stronger as each flap of its wings brought Vladimir closer to her.
Once the dragon had landed lightly on the balcony, she knew she would never cease to be awed by the way the air shimmered about that fiercely strong and majestic dragon, and a gorgeously naked Vladimir stood in its place.
“Did you visit your winter palace at any time during the three months I’ve been kept a prisoner there?” The question burst from her, the answer more important to her right now than anything else Vladimir might have to say.
Because if he had…if Vladimir had been visiting the palace during those months, then perhaps those visits had coincided with the other occasions when Tanya had felt that unexplainable ants-under-her-skin sensation.
If so, could that awareness possibly be another confirmation Tanya was indeed Vladimir’s mate?
Vladimir stared at Tanya for several long seconds, slightly puzzled as to why she was asking him that question when he had just returned from searching for the intruder she believed she had seen earlier.
There was a flush in her cheeks, a feverish glitter of her eyes, and she kept rubbing her hands up and down her arms.
His brow cleared as he realized her discomfort, also the possible reason for her question. “I visited there whenever the need to be near you became too much for me,” he answered softly. “Your presence, even through the roof of the east turret, was enough to settle my own and my dragon’s longing for a week or so.”
“Oh.”
“Although, according to Vaughn, because I have been unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, I’ve instead been pacing day and night and making grooves in the hallways of the palace,” he added self-derisively. “Have you suffered any such discomfort yourself?”
She gave an awkward smile as she admitted, “I’ve had this…inexplicable but persistent itching on my arms several times during the past three months. Then again last night before—well, before. Afterward, it had disappeared. Now it’s back