caressing voice made the nature of those other diversions quite clear. He was standing close to me now, and I had to tilt my head back slightly in order to look into those deep blue eyes. I could smell his teak cologne and faintly moist silk and flesh, and his aura was so strong it seemed to envelop both of us like an invisible cloud.
Count Orlov smiled, the full mouth curving, pink, the lower lip taut. The heavy eyelids drooped, half-shrouding those magnetic eyes. In love with Jeremy, I was immune to the charms of any other male, yet I was acutely aware of the sexuality he exuded through every pore, sexuality so potent it was almost palpable.
"You like these things?" he inquired.
"I-I enjoy a good meal.'
"This is good sign. You like the wine?"
"On occasion."
"And the other-ab, it would be indiscreet of me to ask about that."
"Extremely indiscreet," I said stiffly.
He looked disturbed. "I offend?"
I shook my head and turned away from him, gazing at the hollyhocks, inhaling their strong fragrance. I could feel him there behind me, warm and big and solid. It was growing darker, the haze deep violet now, the sky turning black. The fireflies flickered a brighter yellow-gold. Soon the first stars would appear. The bird began to warble again, and the oak leaves made a soft rattling noise as the breeze stirred them.
"I do offend," he said, and his voice sounded pained. "In Russia we make light of these matters. We jest. We do not take them as-as seriously as you English. I am forgiven?"
I faced him. I nodded. He was visibly relieved.
"Good. We must not begin on-how do you put it?-we must not start on the wrong two feet."
"The wrong foot," I corrected.
"Right. We must not start on the wrong foot. You are sad and I attempt to bring the levity and step on the wrong foot immediately. I am the clumsy oaf on occasion, I fear.
Too many years in the army barracks. The fine breeding is lacking."
"I-I guessed you had been a soldier."
"Oh, yes, in my youth I am the mighty Russian soldier. I ride like a demon and flash the sabre and put fear in the hearts of my enemy. I am more at ease in the thick of battle than in the drawing room with the gold gilt chairs and velvet hangings."
"I'm sure you exaggerate, Count Orlov."
"I am like the caged lion in those rooms. It is agony even now, many years after I leave the military and become a count. They try to civilize me, but always I long for the rowdy comrades and the brawls."
"You-you were not born a count?"
"Oh, no. My father he is a military man, a fierce soldier.
My four brothers and I are ruffians. We terrorize the countryside.
Many scrapes we get into, many pranks we play.
The priest says we are spawn ofthe devil. My father thinks it is a compliment to him."
He chuckled, the navy blue eyes full of amusement as he recalled those days. I suspected there was still much of the little boy in Gregory Orlov, a simplicity of response the years had not diminished. He would be easily pleased, easily angered, and his responses would be as quick, as volatile and uncomplicated as a child's. Count Orlov, I felt, would ever be guided by instinct and emotion rather than intellect.
"It is good to find you well," he said. "I worry much."
"You-you and Lucie have been very kind."
"We find you on the road. We bring you here and bring the doctor. Is that not what anyone would do?"
"You saved my life."
"I suppose maybe. It brings responsibility, this, much duty. In Russia when you save the life, you are responsible for this person."
"I thought that was in China."
"In Russia, too," he assured me.
"I don't know how to thank you for-for all you've done."
"Is natural to do these things, no? We are cruel sometimes, we Russians, it is in our blood, but we are not savages.
Only the savage would leave a beautiful woman broken on the road."
"Thank you all the same."
"Is heavy responsibility, this. Now I must see that you are not unhappy and do not have this sad look in your eyes I see when
Count Orlov smiled, the full mouth curving, pink, the lower lip taut. The heavy eyelids drooped, half-shrouding those magnetic eyes. In love with Jeremy, I was immune to the charms of any other male, yet I was acutely aware of the sexuality he exuded through every pore, sexuality so potent it was almost palpable.
"You like these things?" he inquired.
"I-I enjoy a good meal.'
"This is good sign. You like the wine?"
"On occasion."
"And the other-ab, it would be indiscreet of me to ask about that."
"Extremely indiscreet," I said stiffly.
He looked disturbed. "I offend?"
I shook my head and turned away from him, gazing at the hollyhocks, inhaling their strong fragrance. I could feel him there behind me, warm and big and solid. It was growing darker, the haze deep violet now, the sky turning black. The fireflies flickered a brighter yellow-gold. Soon the first stars would appear. The bird began to warble again, and the oak leaves made a soft rattling noise as the breeze stirred them.
"I do offend," he said, and his voice sounded pained. "In Russia we make light of these matters. We jest. We do not take them as-as seriously as you English. I am forgiven?"
I faced him. I nodded. He was visibly relieved.
"Good. We must not begin on-how do you put it?-we must not start on the wrong two feet."
"The wrong foot," I corrected.
"Right. We must not start on the wrong foot. You are sad and I attempt to bring the levity and step on the wrong foot immediately. I am the clumsy oaf on occasion, I fear.
Too many years in the army barracks. The fine breeding is lacking."
"I-I guessed you had been a soldier."
"Oh, yes, in my youth I am the mighty Russian soldier. I ride like a demon and flash the sabre and put fear in the hearts of my enemy. I am more at ease in the thick of battle than in the drawing room with the gold gilt chairs and velvet hangings."
"I'm sure you exaggerate, Count Orlov."
"I am like the caged lion in those rooms. It is agony even now, many years after I leave the military and become a count. They try to civilize me, but always I long for the rowdy comrades and the brawls."
"You-you were not born a count?"
"Oh, no. My father he is a military man, a fierce soldier.
My four brothers and I are ruffians. We terrorize the countryside.
Many scrapes we get into, many pranks we play.
The priest says we are spawn ofthe devil. My father thinks it is a compliment to him."
He chuckled, the navy blue eyes full of amusement as he recalled those days. I suspected there was still much of the little boy in Gregory Orlov, a simplicity of response the years had not diminished. He would be easily pleased, easily angered, and his responses would be as quick, as volatile and uncomplicated as a child's. Count Orlov, I felt, would ever be guided by instinct and emotion rather than intellect.
"It is good to find you well," he said. "I worry much."
"You-you and Lucie have been very kind."
"We find you on the road. We bring you here and bring the doctor. Is that not what anyone would do?"
"You saved my life."
"I suppose maybe. It brings responsibility, this, much duty. In Russia when you save the life, you are responsible for this person."
"I thought that was in China."
"In Russia, too," he assured me.
"I don't know how to thank you for-for all you've done."
"Is natural to do these things, no? We are cruel sometimes, we Russians, it is in our blood, but we are not savages.
Only the savage would leave a beautiful woman broken on the road."
"Thank you all the same."
"Is heavy responsibility, this. Now I must see that you are not unhappy and do not have this sad look in your eyes I see when
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