anya didn’t know how she got through that next half hour, watching Stefan being dressed and groomed by Sasha. Mostly she kept her eyes averted, or on the little servant, who turned out to be amaz¬ingly bossy for a man a good inch or two shorter than she was.

Stefan had warned him to speak only English, and once Sasha started, Tanya got to listen to a whole stream of grumblings and complaints that only a ser¬vant of long standing would dare to voice. Stefan merely shrugged, or ignored, or teased—which was interesting. Tanya wouldn’t have thought someone as unapproachable and as volatile as Stefan seemed to be would be the sort who teased. Playful just wasn’t synonymous with diabolical. But hadn’t she suspected him of teasing her a few times today, only to dismiss the idea as being too unlikely?

She didn’t like seeing this other side of him that even included affection for a servant. And she really hated it when he smiled, for her heart did a double beat each time, whether he was looking at her or not. He wasn’t incredibly handsome like Vasili, but the more she looked at him, the more attractive he be¬came, and that, for some reason, annoyed her the most. She preferred to keep their relationship black and white. Enemy—captive. No middle ground. Yet his kisses and the feelings they had evoked in her were never far from her mind. And the image of his naked body... She needed to get away from this man for more than just her freedom.

She breathed a sigh of relief now to see that he was finally completely dressed. The buff colored trousers were too snug, if you asked her, and the forest green coat was so well tailored it did nothing but accentuate his fine figure. The shirt he wore was identical to the one she now sported, with pleated cuffs, but the waistcoat wasn’t as fancy, merely em¬broidered yellow silk. His offsetting red cravat was tied in the careless primo tempo style, and Sasha produced a tan top hat that took all of twenty seconds to be placed just so over his black hair.

He was definitely dressed to leave the cabin, and Tanya could only wish at this point that he would hurry up and do so. Except now that he was ready to, he turned his attention back to her, approaching her with a mirror in hand. She stiffened with an idea of what that meant. She wasn’t far wrong.

“Wash the paint off or repair the damage,” he said, dropping the round mirror into her lap. “But do one or the other before we go to supper.”

She was actually being offered a choice? Yet it was an order, plain and simple, no matter how mild the tone. And she simply hated orders these days.

She was about to hand the mirror back and tell him what he could do with it when she caught a glimpse of her reflection that made her gasp and cringe. He’d said she looked like a grubby urchin, but that wasn’t even the half of it. Tanya looked as if she had stuck her head in a fireplace and had cold ashes blown in her face, then had merely dabbed at the mess. Lighter splotches were everywhere, on her chin from having it gripped, on her cheeks and fore¬head where she’d rubbed against Stefan’s chest. How could she repair this mess when she didn’t have her powders and creams?

As best as she could, that was how. She still wasn’t willing to give up her camouflage without a fight. Stefan had been provoked to lust with her looking as she did. How much more difficulty would she be facing if he saw her as she really was? But there was a devil’s voice whispering at her to show him, a bit of vanity that had never troubled her before. She very swiftly squelched it.

“Will this do?” she asked after a few moments of smoothing, blending, and borrowing from the thicker color still beneath her eyes.

“The tired hag again? I think I liked the dirty urchin better.”

Tanya gritted her teeth as she felt another urge to wash herself clean of her disguise. He suspected the truth anyway. But a suspicion was nothing compared to clear evidence. She resisted temptation again and changed the subject.

“Did you mention something about going to sup¬per?”

“Unless you would prefer a tray brought to you here.”

“I wouldn’t,” she quickly assured him, amazed that she was going to be allowed out of the cabin this soon. “But aren’t you worried that I will enlist some¬one’s aid, in particular the captain’s?”

“You would only embarrass him and yourself if you did.”

Her green eyes narrowed. “What absurd lies have you told him about me?”

“Nothing too taxing on the imagination. You are my runaway wife. You deserted not only me but two small babies as well. I’m afraid you won’t engender the least bit of sympathy if you try to tell anyone otherwise.”

He smiled, letting her know he knew how furious that would make her, so all she said was, “Did you have to make me sound so heartless? No one could blame me for deserting you, but babies?”

He didn’t take the bait, possibly because her eyes were so hot with rancor. He chuckled, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, and started her toward the door.

On the way to the dining room, he asked, some¬what on the same subject, “How do you feel about babies, Tanya? You will be expected to give the king at least one heir.”

“Not according to him,” she snorted. “He doesn’t intend to ever touch me, for which I am immensely grateful.”

“Most women adore Vasili. I assumed you would be pleased by the thought of marrying him.”

“You assumed wrong.”

“And if you had another choice?”

“That’s the second time I’ve been asked that. Do I have another choice?”

He didn’t answer. They had reached the dining room, small but comfortably furnished from what she could see through the open doorway. Serge and Vasili were already seated. Lazar was probably still cleaning up from his dunk in the river. No other girls were present at their table, but then if there were other girls like her, the men wouldn’t allow them all to come together to compare fairy tales, would they?

Stefan paused before entering, holding Tanya back by her elbow. “We were discussing babies,” he reminded her.

“You were, not me.”

“You didn’t say how you felt about them personally.”

“I’m afraid it’s a subject I never gave much thought to, since I had never planned to marry.”

“And under these new circumstances?”

“I just told you Vasili said he wouldn’t be sharing my bed, so I don’t see how... wait a minute. Are you suggesting a bastard heir would be acceptable?”

“No! I mean yes—never mind.”

He propelled her into the room without another word. Tanya glanced sideways at him and saw that he wasn’t just flustered, but quite annoyed for some reason. Now, what was she to make of that? Not that it mattered. If she could go to supper, then it was likely that she could go to dinner that evening, too, and that was all she was interested in at the moment—another opportunity to escape.

So she behaved herself that afternoon, didn’t argue, and refrained from any more caustic remarks, even toward Vasili, which was a major feat since he wasn’t nearly as tactful. She also managed to ignore the disapproving looks that came her way, either because of the outlandish story circulating about her or due to her half mannish attire, either reason sufficient to condemn her in the eyes of everyone there.

Instead she amused herself by watching every other female in the dining room trying to catch Vasili’s eye, not just once, but continuously. Stefan was right in that respect. Most women seemed to adore him, and probably did—right up until they got to meet the insufferable peacock.

It was the same that evening, though even worse where Vasili was concerned, for several women managed to finagle introductions through the captain, who seemed so put upon, Tanya didn’t even consider enlightening him with the truth about herself while she had the chance. It was perhaps because she did keep her mouth shut that when she confessed a need to use the convenience before their first course arrived, Stefan let her go without his escort, though she caught his nod toward Serge, which no doubt meant he was to follow at a reasonable distance. Of course, she would never have been allowed even that if Stefan thought she could swim.

Serge’s unobtrusive presence on the deck was no hindrance to her plan, however, since he wasn’t following close enough to stop her. Tanya even had time to pick her spot to jump, which was an added bonus, for she could barely make out a bend in the river coming up. If she could jump just before it, The Lorilie would be around the bend and out of sight long before she reached the riverbank, so no one would see her leave the water, if they could see her in the dark.

Being unable to swim was the smartest lie she’d ever told, definitely worth a mental pat on the back. Now, if she could only find the convenience.