The Frost of Springtime Read Online Free PDF

features cold and unfeeling, bodies stronger than a
warrior’s. Epically handsome and still as death, those divine sculptures seemed
to echo Aleksender’s gaze. Such a thing was beyond unsettling—one might even
say demonic. Salle Le Peletier was no Mount Olympus or kingdom of light.
Aleksender neurotically threaded fingertips through his hairline and forced his
eyes upon brighter pastures.
    And then it happened.
    A young lady with striking beauty rounded one of Salle Le Peletier’s
corners in a frantic rush. She clutched at the hem of her skirts and raced up
the winding steps, nearly tripping over herself in the process. Aleksender
emerged from his shadowy concealment in a swift movement. He grasped the girl’s
slender forearm and spun her round in a remarkably graceful dance.
    Really! She’d half-expected to be tossed into the waltz! Instead, she
shrieked and collided with a wall of masculine flesh. Very
masculine flesh that roused her senses and smelled vaguely familiar.
    An exotic blend of Persian spices.
    Sofia fell into stunned silence as the revelation crashed down like a
crystal chandelier.
    In the same breath, Aleksender shamelessly returned her stare as he
examined his ward from head to toe. Mon Dieu. She was
slender and fragile—beyond gentle and angelic. Her petite height reached the
middle of his chest and came not an inch more.
    Curls descended just past the small of her waist in lush ringlets. Her
lips quivered as the blue of her eyes flooded with a storm of unshed tears. And
those eyes were truly breathtaking to behold. Her sapphire gaze sparkled,
shining like twin diamonds, running over his features in pure disbelief.
    Aleksender felt something contract inside his chest.
    After gathering the slightest sense of composure, Sofia managed to
utter all but a single word. “You …”
    She splayed a hand over her bosom, entirely breathless. Aleksender’s
eyes followed the unconscious motion and lowered to the tender swell.
Transferring his attention to one of Salle Le Peletier’s forsaken stone angels, he cursed himself and averted his piercing stare.
    Just who was this woman? She was incredible.
    “Sofia …”
    Aleksender whispered the name with unearthly reverence. He dared to
step intimately close, drawn to Sofia much like a moth is drawn to the
promising heat of the flame. Unsteady hands rose from his sides in a tentative
and suave movement. They cupped her cheeks and deftly lifted her downcast face
with the pads of twiddling thumbs.
    He drew invisible circles along her flesh, worshiping everything that
was his beloved ward, tracing down the smooth bend of each cheek and back up
again. A solitary tear streamed over the curve of her chin and vanished between
her lips. Aleksender’s eyes traced the liquid path and settled upon the lush
flesh of her mouth. Sparks of awareness coiled through every
inch of his body. Clasping Sofia’s chin, he gently swiped away her tears
and offered a weak smile.
    “Sofia,” he repeated, stunned by her appearance, adoration lacing all
three syllables.
    “I thought you for dead. A year and not so much as a
word?” She sniffled, surrendering to a smile that melted Aleksender’s
heart into ashes. “I was sure I’d never see you again.” Luscious curls fell
across her shoulders as she inclined her chin. “Oh, Alek. How I missed you.” She lunged forward and threw her arms around the
circumference of his waist, tugging Aleksender impossibly closer. “You—here in my arms.” Her lashes fluttered shut. “Tomorrow
I shall think this was all a dream.”
    “A dream we have both shared.” Aleksender sighed and inhaled her sweet
essence.
    Roses and the frost of wintertime.
    “You’ve truly grown up,” he whispered, speaking more to himself .
    With Sofia resting in his arms, Aleksender felt strangely content. Strangely happy. And the epiphany frightened him half to
death.
    At nineteen years, she was terribly young and naive. Was she even aware
of how she affected