t had been a goodly number of years since Tanya had slept outdoors, but she wasn’t startled when she awoke to humid river smells and grass tickling her nose. She was used to waking clearheaded and alert. Dobbs had taught her that, for he was his grouchiest in the mornings and quick to slap if an order wasn’t understood and acted upon immediately.

She wondered about Dobbs now, and what had happened yesterday when he awoke in the late afternoon and she didn’t come running at his first yell—or his third or fourth, which had been the case lately as her independence asserted itself more and more. Who had opened The Seraglio for him? Jeremiah? But he was only good at pouring drinks. He didn’t even know how to replenish the supply.

The list grew in her mind, of the things that needed to be done at the tavern that neither Jeremiah or Aggie would know the first thing about. And they had no dancer until April’s foot healed. For one or two nights they might be able to get away without entertainment, but then the word would spread and their business would drop drastically.

Panic crept up on her as she began to envision her future livelihood suffering a severe setback because she wasn’t there to watch over it. The Seraglio might even be forced to close, or worse, Dobbs might make a deal with someone else. Her entire future could be ruined by this forced absence. Damn Stefan for find¬ing her last night.

They had returned last night to where she had left her clothes, she and Stefan going on ahead, so she had time to dress before the others joined them. Ste¬fan had decided to wait out the night there, and much to Tanya’s disappointment, since she had hoped to slip away again while they were all sleeping, he had set up a watch, with each of them taking turns through the night. They had had no fire, no blankets to keep warm, and she had slept in her damp clothes, while the men had stripped down to almost nothing so they could spread their clothes out on the surrounding shrubbery to dry.

Tanya hoped they had had the decency to, now that it was light, but she hadn’t looked yet. She had turned over onto her stomach during her sleep, so her own clothes were still damp where she had lain on them. But the men were awake. She could hear low voiced conversations, though they had re¬verted to that foreign language they all knew, so she didn’t bother to listen.

They were undoubtedly making plans, deciding which direction to take. She wondered if they knew the area, because she certainly didn’t, not on this side of the river, nor on the other side for that matter, not this far from Natchez. But that was their problem. Hers was finding one more opportunity to part com¬pany with them, a virtual impossibility because none of them would trust her farther than they could reach.

She finally turned over and sat up, finding them gathered near the water’s edge. Vasili and Serge sat on a log, Vasili trying to buff the mud from his boots with a handkerchief. Lazar squatted on the ground counting money, so one or more of them must have been carrying some when they decided to come after her. Stefan stood facing the water, possibly consid¬ering hailing some passing river craft. She could have told them that was a good way to get robbed and killed with so many unsavory types traveling the Mis¬sissippi these days, an option only for the really des¬perate. She was desperate, but they weren’t, not yet anyway. But then they weren’t exactly upstanding honest people themselves, were they? she thought disagreeably. So they would probably fit right in with thieves and murderers.

Her movement had drawn Serge’s eyes to her, then Lazar’s. When they didn’t look away from her, she glanced down to make sure the waistcoat was still covering her breasts adequately. It was. Looking back, she saw Vasili staring at her now, too, and he seemed surprised, almost amazed. Well, what the hell?

“Have I grown two heads or something?” she demanded irritably.

Stefan turned at the sound of her voice, took one look at her, and uttered a curse that burned her ears.

Lazar started laughing at that point, Serge smiled, but they all still stared at her as if they were looking at something that totally defied belief.

Tanya wasn’t usually so dense, but she was so used to being properly made up before she faced anyone, even Dobbs, that it didn’t occur to her immediately that her camouflage was washed clean away. When she did finally recall scrubbing herself from top to bottom last night in the river, she repeated Stefan’s curse, though silently. She wasn’t supposed to have run into them again after she did that. And look at their damn reactions. She was rendering them speechless, for crying out loud. Well, not quite.

When Lazar had finished laughing, he said to no one in particular, “It stands to reason that she would look like this with her mother a renowned Austrian beauty and her father one of the handsomest men Cardinia has ever produced. This is what we expected, not the well worn hag she painted herself. And Stefan warned us she was not as she appeared to be.”

“I expected worse, not better,” Vasili said.

“You merely call this better?” Serge asked, chuckling now. “They will come from all over Europe to have a look at her, once it is known she outshines even her mother. And to think I felt sorry for—”

Two throats cleared so loudly, Serge was effectively cut off. Stefan, silent so far, stepped forward stiffly to help Tanya to her feet.

“The question is,” he said in a tone frigid enough to predict what was coming, “why would a whore hide a face worth her fortune?”

The fortune producing face turned bright crimson, which infuriated Tanya even more than the insult did. She was getting sick and tired of blushing every time they dumped their contempt on her. Obviously, nothing was going to stop the insults from coming her way, so she had to stop letting them affect her. She didn’t even know why she was reacting this way, when she had been called worse things in her life than a whore and had been too thick skinned to even notice. She definitely needed to toughen up here if she had to pass another day with these four, or start fighting back in kind.

Right then fighting back appealed to her, so even though it had been a rhetorical question, at least not asked of her, she answered anyway, her smile deadly sweet. “I’m only one woman, Stefan. There was never enough time to handle all the customers this face attracted.”

Incredibly, color drained from his face, only to come back in such a rush she knew he was flushing in reaction. Well, score one for you, missy. Fighting back is going to be easier than you thought.

But she heard from behind him, “Jesus,” and from another the warning “Think before you do anything, Stefan.”

And they couldn’t even see that he had turned livid, since he was still facing her. They expected anger from what she’d said. Why? What difference did it make if she owned up to what they all thought anyway? If she told the truth instead, Stefan would probably get just as angry. Maybe she would try that next time.

Right now she braced herself, wondering if he would pounce on her as he usually did. Not with his friends present, apparently, for he merely tilted her chin up with one finger, his golden eyes roving over every inch of her face as if he would commit it to memory.

She knew what he was seeing, or she thought she did. Actually, she hadn’t had a good look at her reflection in decent light for a number of years. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have seen what he was seeing. Spiky lashes framed eyes that were captivatingly tilted, and weren’t pale at all without the gray around them, just light in color and quite brilliant. Petal soft skin was a roses and cream hue, and gently flaring brows were as black as her midnight hair. He saw the aristocrat in her high cheekbones, and passion in her lush mouth, with lips full and inviting. And he saw the strength, or stubbornness, in her jaw, as well as the slight curve at the tip of her small nose that kept her face from being haughty. He saw a face so lovely, even a poet couldn’t do it justice with flowery description. And he disliked every inch of it.

Tanya saw that clearly in his expression, she just didn’t understand it. The man had wanted her a dozen times yesterday, or so he claimed, when she had been at her most unappealing. Now he didn’t? For crying out loud, she should have washed her face sooner.

When he finished his inspection, he said with deceptive nonchalance, “I see your point, Tanya. They would be lined up in droves, wouldn’t they? Or do you service more than one at a time?”

Lord help her, he was going to get really nasty, now that he no longer wanted her for himself. Tanya didn’t know whether to cry over that horrid insinuation or slap him. But she had forgotten how to cry...

The crack across his cheek was shatteringly loud in the stillness. Tanya had to bite her lip to keep from shaking her hand, it stung so badly. Stefan’s cheek turned white, then filled with blood in the shape of her hand print, almost making his scars underneath it disappear.

Tanya felt such satisfaction on seeing that print, she didn’t care if he turned around to look for a stick to beat her with, or slapped her back, as Vasili would have done the other night if Stefan hadn’t stopped him.

But he did neither. He merely touched a finger to his cheek and raised a black brow, saying, “I take that to be a no?” She almost slapped him again. He must have sensed it, for he shook his head in warning. “Ah, no, Tanya. Once was perhaps deserved, but twice I will not accept. Behave—”

“Then get the hell away from me, because I’ve had a bellyful of your vicious taunts!”

She turned her back on him, but he didn’t reply. After another moment, she heard him walk away, and it was all she could do not to break into a run in the opposite direction. But there were four of them to give chase, so all she’d end up doing was wasting her strength.

Another moment passed and Lazar approached her, extreme wariness in his expression. “I hesitate to ask, Princess, but are these edible?”

She glanced down at the branch of foliage he held in his hand. Wild berries. If she weren’t so hungry herself, she’d tell him no, then sit back quietly and watch them all try to throw up what they had probably already eaten. She took the branch from him instead and popped a few of the succulent berries in her mouth, a good enough answer as far as she was concerned, since she was done talking to the lot of them.

But the damn berries wouldn’t go down. She had a lump in her throat that felt as big as her fist, some¬thing she hadn’t experienced since she was a child. She guessed she could still cry after all.

She didn’t make a single sound, but the tears started flowing copiously. Lazar blanched upon seeing them. Tanya didn’t notice his reaction or that he left her side. And then an argument started behind her that got really heated for a moment, though she wasn’t paying attention to that either. Maybe they’d kill each other. She could hope...

The arms that came around her were achingly tender, drawing her against a comforting chest. She assumed it was Lazar, but didn’t look to be sure since she didn’t care at that point. Sympathy broke the dam, it seemed, for she became loud then, great racking sobs echoing through the woods. Crying, for crying out loud, and when she’d been so furious just minutes before. How utterly embarrassing. And she couldn’t even say why she was doing it—certainly not because that devil eyed devil didn’t like her any¬more.

She was making so much noise, it was a while before she could even hear the soothing words com¬ing her way. When she did hear them, she stiffened, pulling back. But the arms around her only tightened. She was going to be comforted whether she liked it or not, by him. What unmitigated gall. There wasn’t anything he could say...

“I’m sorry, Tanya. At times I am the devil they call me. I did warn you of that, did I not? And sometimes when I am surprised—”

“You mean disappointed, don’t you?” she inter¬rupted bitterly.

“Surprised will do,” he replied. “I have never dealt well with surprises.”

“You have unusual reactions for a lot of things, don’t you, Stefan?”

Pointing that out wasn’t the wisest thing she could have done just then, when his arms were still around her. But she was in danger of being kissed only when he was angry, or sealing bargains, and that danger was undoubtedly gone now that he knew what she really looked like. She should be relieved. So why wasn’t she?

He was quiet for so long, she was sure he wasn’t going to reply to her remark, but he did. “You deal with my unusual reactions very well, do you not?”

Up came the color to her cheeks, and she had no gray pallor to hide any of it, only his wide chest for the moment. “That was a short truce,” she said tiredly.

His hand ran over the back of her head, pressing her even closer to him. Comforting even while he was insulting? The man didn’t do anything in a nor¬mal way.

“Actually, I meant no offense,” he said softly near her ear. “There are women of vast experience who are still terrified of me when I... but an innocent girl would be even more so. You have that, at least, in your favor.”

And nothing else? But he didn’t say that. He wasn’t trying to insult her, after all.

“Some innocents would react just like I do,” she retorted. “But I don’t suppose I will have to worry about it anymore, will I?”

He sighed. “I’ve made you angry again.”

All Tanya noted was that he hadn’t answered the question. “You can let go of me now, Stefan. The rain has stopped in case you haven’t noticed.”

She heard him chuckle, and he tipped her face up so she could see that he was smiling, his way of telling her that he at least was willing to forget the harsh words that had passed between them and start over—again. But he didn’t know that she hated it when he smiled. He didn’t know that her heartbeat sped up each time he did. She looked at those lips, felt the length of him pressed so close to her, and experienced that fluttering In her innards again. Hell and high water, how could he still do that to her after his recent nastiness?

She felt him tense just before he released her, giving her an idea that he had sensed what she was feeling and didn’t like it. She turned away from him before she could see it in his expression too.

“What have you decided for our direction?” she asked in a neutral tone.

“South.”

They would choose the opposite of the way that she wanted to go.