Free You Belong to Me by Johanna Lindsey Page A

her mind. But women didn’t do that to him.
    Lazar came to stand next to Vasili and also stared in the direction in which Alexandra Rubliov had vanished. Without glancing at him, Vasili said, “If you laugh, I’m going to put my fist in your mouth.”
    Lazar didn’t laugh, but he was certainly grinning. “You think that would stop me?”
    The two friends had been known to tear into each other with very little provocation. Stefan had sent Lazar along with Vasili to keep him out of trouble. But he had jokingly admonished that they not kill each other before they returned to Cardinia. And the six guards, who accompanied the two friends at Stefan’s insistence, were to see to that, as wellas to protect their backs on the bandit-infested mountain passes.
    “It would make it difficult for you to continue,” Vasili promised.
    “True—but what are you growling about? You should be delighted. Now you won’t have to show her what a bastard you can be. She’s told you exactly what you wanted to hear, and without any effort on your part.”
    “Exactly?” Vasili said with irritation. “You must not have been listening carefully, Lazar. The little peasant doesn’t want to marry me, but she expects me to break the betrothal. As much as I’d love to, you know I can’t do that.”
    “Yes, but look how much closer you are to achieving your goal, thanks to her unexpected revelation. You’ve already won half the battle without firing a single shot. How hard can it be to get her to break the betrothal, once you explain that you can’t? She’s on your side, my friend. She doesn’t want you.”
    Having said that, Lazar finally couldn’t resist laughing. It really was incredibly funny, and Vasili’s glower was funnier still. Who would have thought that the one woman who actually had an opportunity to marry Vasili, or at least assumed she did, wouldn’t want to, when hundreds of others would have killed to be in her position?
    “By the way,” Lazar added, just to rub it in, “I don’t think she was the least bit impressed by that splendid display of contempt you treated her to. I can’t say that I blame her, butthen I saw the way you were looking at her before you knew who she was.” He had to pause for another laugh. “Jesus, I can’t wait to tell Stefan and Serge about this. They simply aren’t going to believe it.”

8
    “ C ome, sit down, Vasili—you will permit me to call you so?”
    Constantin didn’t wait for an answer, resuming his seat behind his desk. His study was what one might expect from a man of his years, sedate, and lacking all flamboyance. It reminded Vasili of his father’s study, before Maria had turned it into a sewing room after his death.
    “Though we have never met, I feel as if I have known you all your life,” Constantin was explaining. “But then, you were all your father ever talked about. He was so proud of you and your accomplishments. He wanted to show you off, you know, to take you with him on his travels and hunting trips, but he felt your schooling was more important, particularly since you shared the royal tutors with the crown prince. He was proud of that, too, since he never had such advantages himself, having no connection with the royal family until he married your mother. But I do know he intended to bring you with him to Russiaafter you turned eighteen. I remember when he…”
    Constantin continued reminiscing for more than an hour. Vasili was required to make few comments in reply, merely to listen, and he did that avidly, hearing things about his father he’d never known. Long before the baron had finished speaking, the resentment Vasili had harbored against the man for most of his life was beginning to lessen, and by the time Constantin finished with “I still miss him, you know,” it was gone completely.
    Ridiculously, Vasili felt close to tears, damn close. He hadn’t cried since he was a small child, and the urge he felt now was all but choking him. He