Free Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard by Vanessa Kelly

back, waiting for him to scoff at her suspicions.
    He didn’t. Instead, he sat back, stroking his beard-shadowed jaw.
    “Really,” she insisted, “it’s ridiculous. He’s a Russian prince, for heaven’s sake. Besides, the Russian ambassador and his wife are his friends, and are seen with him everywhere.”
    In fact, it had been Countess Lieven who introduced them in the first place. The prince had begun courting Vivien immediately, much to her dismay, and it wasn’t because he looked like a squat toad. She liked a handsome man as much as any girl, but it was his oily, arrogant demeanor and his aggressive pursuit that made her bristle. She’d turned him down three times already in the past six weeks, but the man wouldn’t take no for an answer.
    “What has he done to offend you?”
    “Have you met Prince Ivan?”
    “I know of him, but I’ve never met him.”
    “If you had, you’d know exactly what I’m talking about,” she replied dryly.
    He gave her a faint smile. “Tell me anyway.”
    “He’s arrogant and extremely forward, and quite certain that any woman who is the object of his attentions should be bowing down before him with gratitude.” It would be a frosty day in hell before she bowed to any man, much less Khovansky.
    “Go on.”
    “He refuses to take no for an answer. In fact, he—” She stopped, too embarrassed and angry to recount the last episode when he’d backed her up behind a column at the DeLancey ball and forced his tongue halfway down her throat.
    “I understand,” he replied gently. “He’s asked for your hand?”
    “Three times, and each time I refused him in no uncertain terms.”
    “And what does your brother, Lord Blake, have to say about all this? Surely he cannot wish to see his sister the recipient of unwelcome advances.”
    She scowled. “He thinks I’m a fool for saying no.”
    That earned another lift of his eyebrows, and Vivien silently cursed. Too late, she realized their discussion touched too close to home.
    She waved a dismissive hand. “Truthfully, I don’t think Cyrus cares one way or the other about my suitors. I suppose he’d like to get me off his hands, but he doesn’t favor the prince over any other man.”
    “And do you have many suitors?”
    Vivien hunched her shoulders. Not only was this discussion veering into dangerous territory, it was downright mortifying. She had no desire to talk about her suitors with anyone, especially not St. George.
    “No more than the usual,” she said stiffly. “And lately, none of any note. Besides Prince Ivan, that is.”
    “And how does your—”
    She cut him off. “It’s ridiculous to think Prince Ivan might have a role in my abduction. I don’t like the man, but he’s a prince and a guest of the Crown. Princes don’t go around acting the part of the villain, now do they?”
    His lips parted in a smile that looked more like a snarl. “Have you met any of the king’s sons, my lady?”
    He had a point. King George’s sons were an appalling group, which anyone with half a brain understood.
    Vivien pondered that fact, then finally let out a sigh. It wasn’t Khovansky—she’d stake her life on it. She had a fairly good idea who was behind her kidnapping, but she had no intention of sharing that bit of news with St. George or anyone else.
    “Truly, my dear sir, I don’t like Prince Ivan but nor do I think he had anything to do with my abduction. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’s already given up on me. In fact, I hadn’t seen him for several days before I was attacked in Mayfair.” She’d ended their last encounter by kicking him in the shins. The prince hadn’t appreciated that move one bit.
    St. George inclined his head. “I’ll take your word for it. I do have a few more questions, though, about your brother, Lord Blake.”
    Vivien’s heart skipped a few beats. “Please, no more. My head is spinning and I can barely stitch together a coherent sentence. You must forgive me, but I