Monday, February 22, 2010

Excert Monday - Across The Fickle Winds of History

The Set up: Olga has asked Paul to escort her to a ball. She has just met him, but feels an incrediable attraction to him.


We went back to the dance floor, and I discovered he had a stamina
no other man had. It seemed almost unnatural, and I grew winded a
second time before he took me upstairs to the second floor to get some
air. We looked down over the railing, admiring the dancers.

He stood close to me, his hand in the small of my back, his hard
body pressing ever so slightly into mine. His wonderful musky scent
drew me closer to him. Oh, how my heart beat loudly in my chest! I
prayed he could not hear it and I felt myself skirt the line between my
shyness and flirtatiousness.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked.

“Thank you, but no, Paul, I’m fine,” I replied. We spoke in his
native English and I noticed no unusual pauses in our conversation,
although I must admit, I had a very proper accent compared to his.

“Tell me about you, Olga. How is it Tatiana takes such command
when you are alone, but here, in front of all, you clearly assert

“I do what is expected of me, and since I am the oldest, a lot is
expected of me,” I answered.

“But the throne is not expected of you,” he remarked. I turned to
face him and caught an unusual look in his eye, as if he were studying
my reaction.

“No, it is not, but that does not mean I will live a sheltered life,
either.” I suppose my tone was a little harsh.

“I apologize if I have offended you, Princess.”

“That is the second time you’ve used the word “princess,” Paul. I
suppose that would be the English word for my title, but in Russia, I
am known as a grand duchess,” I explained.

He leaned close to me. “Olga,” he whispered with such a ravenous
smile, I thought I would faint. Then he put his hands on my upper
arms and his warm, honey brown eyes locked onto mine. “I have no
right to make such a bold statement to you, but the moment I saw you,
I felt drawn to you.”

His words hung like the lightest feathers in a breeze, and he brought
up a hand to my hair, teasing my ringlets. “You’re so gentle, so kind,
so sweet. I think of you as my princess.”

I took his hand and led him to the nearest balcony, wanting to be
away from prying eyes. With the glass door shut behind us, I pulled
him to the darkest corner the balcony had to offer and put my hands on
his waist, looking up into his eyes. My heart pounded in my chest as
my breathing became deep and ragged.

“What spell have you woven over me, handsome stranger? You
have been on my mind since the moment I saw you. And what will
happen when this evening ends? Will you go home the way you

Across the Fickle Winds of History is available at Http://
4 Stars, Shannon Yarbourgh, Lulu Book Reviews

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