Read Online RUSSIAN WINTER NIGHTS by Linda Skye - Free Book Online Page A

a violent shudder.
    Andrey buried his face in her bosom, panting and murmuring her name. She gathered him closer, her fingers tangling in his thick locks. They stayed locked in that embrace for as long as they could, each passing moment more precious than the one before. When finally they separated, they dressed slowly and reluctantly. They did not know what the evening would bring.
    Right before they parted, Andrey gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. His eyes met hers.
    “Until we meet again, my Lady.”

Chapter Seven
    Empress Anna was positively seething .
    She paced the length of her royal chambers, muttering and casting glares at the two people standing in her reception area. There was the architect’s apprentice, Andrey, who stood tall and broad-shouldered, his lips thin and his eyes grave. And then there was her niece, Ekaterina, with her fierce blue eyes and defiant slant to her chin.
    But appearances were deceiving. Andrey’s palms were clammy, and Ekaterina’s stomach was turning somersaults. Neither knew what Empress Anna would do.
    “Foolish girl,” the Empress bellowed as she turned on Ekaterina. “You’ve toyed with my commands and turned my own subjects against me.”
    “You misunderstand, Aunt,” Ekaterina replied, her voice cool. “My suitors abandoned me.”
    “Manipulative minx,” her aunt countered. “You are delving into a game you can’t hope to win.” Anna advanced on her, chest heaving in anger. “Well, you can take your little aspirations back to the North, you ungrateful girl,” the Empress told her, teeth clacking together as she spoke. “You are banished from my court, Ekaterina Romanova. Go back to your father. Tonight!”
    Ekaterina resisted the urge to shrug. Such a sentence was hardly even a punishment. She’d never wanted to come to the Winter Court anyway. Now, she was only worried for Andrey.
    “And you,” the Empress said venomously, jabbing a finger in Andrey’s direction. “You should thank your lucky stars that your mentor has brought to my attention that the work on this palace would never be finished without you.”
    Andrey’s breath caught in his throat as he dared hope.
    The Empress turned away, her hands clenching. She suddenly slammed her fist into a table and spun around, her cheeks aflame. Andrey felt his heart sink.
    “I will give you a month to finish here, and then,” she hissed, enraged, “and then you will be off to Siberia whether or not you are done. You will spend the rest of your life hauling goods under the whip, until your beautiful back is torn to ribbons and your jaw cracks under the strain. You will die my slave, Andrey Kvasov, this I promise you.”
    Ekaterina’s voice, clear and melodic, cut through the fog of his panic.
    “I’m sorry, aunt,” she said evenly, “but that will not be possible.”
    Both the Empress and Andrey turned to look at her, bewildered.
    “Are you mad?” the Empress sputtered. “Do you think you can command me?”
    “No, Empress.”
    Ekaterina steeled herself and straightened imperceptibly. She forced every ounce of her aristocratic upbringing into her next words.
    “But you cannot send this architect to Siberia.”
    Her aunt spat, her expression shocked and enraged. Ekaterina stared down her aunt, commanding and glacial. Andrey had never been so proud or terrified.
    “You. You!” the Empress stammered, for once at a loss for words.
    Ekaterina took a breath, and got ready to put her plan into motion. All the other pieces had fallen into place; now she just needed to trap her aunt.
    “I am Ekaterina Romanova of the North,” she said, lifting her eyes proudly. “And my father, the Baron Dimitri, has requested the services of the architect Andrey Kvasov in this letter.”
    She held out a parchment, which her aunt snatched away, her beady eyes scanning the scrawled words. Her face grew even redder, her cheeks puffing in aggravation.
    “That scheming brother of mine,” she said through gritted