Elusive Passion Read Online Free PDF

beauty of themusic he had heard to take offense at his sarcastic friend.
    They were not the only gentlemen who had pushed their way backstage in hope of begging an audience with the lovely pianist. Miles was surprised that a few of the gentlemen even had ladies with them. It meant that they actually intended to tell Victoria…Vivica…whatever her name was that they enjoyed her performance, not proposition her.
    Miles’s great height and muscular build made it easy for the two of them to push their way through the crowded backstage area. A few of the gentlemen were above him in rank, but he was a well-recognized war hero, not just a lord, and this fact intimidated many into moving out of his way.
    “I do so enjoy going out into society with you, Miles,” Carny commented brightly as they stepped up to the green room door long before Carny could have made it there by himself.
    Miles grinned. “Remember you said that the next time I’m so foxed you have to carry me home.” He knocked on the door.
    A burly man, almost as wide across the shoulders as he was tall, greeted them. He did not speak—he just gazed at them questioningly.
    Miles smiled his most charming smile. “The Marquess of Wynter and the Earl of Carnover to see Miss…” He faltered, her name still escaping him.
    “Varya,” Carny chirped.
    “Varya,” Miles repeated, willing himself to remember.
    The man stepped aside and Miles wondered whyhe had allowed them to enter and no one else. Then he saw a few other guests milling about inside.
    “Apparently, he’s very picky as to who he allows in to meet his employer,” Carny informed him sotto voce.
    Miles nodded as if he understood the ugly guard’s reasoning, but he didn’t. What did he base his judgment on? Looks? Title? Neither was very conducive to determining who could be trusted and who couldn’t.
    He spotted Varya surrounded by a small group of admirers, both male and female. She was smiling and laughing with them as if they were old friends. Miles watched, entranced by the animation on her lovely face, and was ridiculously pleased to see—even from that distance—that her eyes were blue. Sapphire blue.
    As she spoke, she gestured wildly with her hands. Miles found the fluttering motions of her long, slender fingers almost mesmerizing. What would the rest of her look like beneath that silk evening gown? Was the flesh of her body as smooth and white as that of her unblemished cheek? If he pulled all the pins from her raven tresses, how far would they fall down her voluptuous form?
    Lord, but he was beginning to sound like that fool Byron! It was foolish to wax poetic about a woman—even if the woman in question was the most enchanting creature he had ever seen.
    He would be the first to admit that he had had more than his fill of women of the stage. And even though he could almost picture Bella sadly shaking her head at him, Miles still found himself wondering if Miss Varya was in want of the protection of a man such as himself.
     
    Varya loved meeting people after each performance. Though sometimes she worried that some well-traveled lord or lady would recognize her. She knew it was unlikely, however, as the only people she had seen so far in London who were even familiar with Russia were Count Lieven and his wife, Dorothea, one of the patronesses at the exclusive Almack’s. Varya had never been invited to Almack’s, nor did she have any desire to attend. No doubt if the countess ever found out who she was, she would be more than welcome inside those hallowed walls. For now, Varya was content with her haughty distance—they had never even been introduced.
    The hypocrisy of London society did not bother Varya. She’d much rather drink vodka and dance around the music room with Piotr and Katya, the maid and footman she had brought with her when she fled from St. Petersburg. She glanced over at Piotr, who was acting as doorman, and smiled warmly at the stocky Russian.
    Her smile froze when