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I’m already breathless as I round the banister at the bottom of the stairs. My eyes flit to the front door–just within reach.
But I can’t. I have no way of running–aside from barefoot into the woods, which would be stupid even on a summer evening with enough light to guide me. I’ll need to find another way.
My mind flashes to my sweet gray mare I rode just yesterday. It feels like a lifetime ago since I followed Pyotr through the trees on her back. What a difference an hour can make.
No, riding’s not an option. I relied on Pyotr’s know-how every step of the way. Even if I managed to tack the mare up and climb into the saddle, I wouldn’t know which direction to go.
As reluctant as I am to stay in the house, I turn toward the back of the foyer to make my way deeper into the manor. Maybe one of the cooks will still be in the kitchen. They might help get me off the estate.
It’s a long shot, I know. I can’t imagine someone being willing to jeopardize their job–or their life–to help Pyotr’s fiancée run away. But I can’t just go back to my room with my tail tucked between my legs. I hope I never see his devastatingly handsome face ever again.
It just might break me.
The marble’s cold beneath my feet as I pad down the hallway, quietly now, as I hear Pyotr pounding down the stairs after me. My stomach lurches as I realize he might happen upon me by sheer luck if he turns the right way.
I need to hide until he’s gone.
Grabbing the handle of the first door to my left, I yank it open and slip inside. Whirling to face it, I ease it closed without a sound, holding my breath as I do.
Only after I manage to latch it silently do I turn to take in my surroundings.
My heart skips a beat as I face the room, only to realize it’s not empty.
Three sets of startled eyes watch me closely as I stand frozen to the spot.
I’m in some sort of parlor room, decorated with rich paintings of hunting scenes, fox chases, and wooded landscapes. The lavish game table that fills the center of the room looks to be set up for poker. And based on the fan of cards in each man’s hand, I’m guessing they’re in the middle of a game.
For a moment, we all remain speechless, them appearing as stunned as I feel as they take in the sight of me.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasp, clinging to my dress and feeling just how scantily clad I am because I never stopped to button it around my neck.
Though I’ve managed to cover my body well enough with the fabric, my arm pinning it across my breasts is creating a considerable amount of cleavage. Hot embarrassment races up my neck and pools in my cheeks as I attempt to cover myself better.
But I’m desperate for help, and time is of the essence. So pushing aside my dignity, I step forward. “Please, I know this might sound like an odd request, but could any of you give me a ride into the city tonight? It’s urgent.” I glance over my shoulder to ensure the door’s still closed, then turn my attention back to the card players.
All three have lowered their cards to the table, not seeming to notice they’ve set them face up on the table, blowing their round, because they’re openly gaping at me.
“A ride?” the middle one asks, rising slowly from his seat. He’s tall, on the lean side, with eyes like onyx. And his thick Russian accent unnerves me for some reason.
The other two follow suit, taking a step toward me.
For the first time, I really take in their appearances, each with an open suit jacket, ties loosened in a haphazard way. Hair slightly wild.
The guy to the left–a larger guy with an impressive beard that swallows the lower half of his face–releases a throaty chuckle that makes my blood run cold.
“I can give you a ride,malen’kaya shlyukha,” he offers, his words slurring slightly.
His companions leer, joining in his laughter as they sway and stagger toward me.
They’re drunk.
I see it now, the nearly empty vodka bottle, the three rocks glasses on the table.
And from the sound of it, I’ve just walked into the lion’s den.
Eyes widening in horror, I slowly back toward the door.
“Don’t worry,igrushka. I’ll give you the ride of your life,” the middle guy promises as he rounds the table. His gaze rakes down my body as he undresses me with his eyes.
