Seized by Love by Susan Johnson

foil for the stunning display of enormous, resplendent yellow and lavender orchids, orchids in baskets, orchids spilling out of shallow basins, orchids carpeting the floor, interspersed with a prodigious number of wicker baskets containing perfect red hothouse strawberries.
    “
I
am Mrs. Forseus, and am on my way to see Prince Kuzan now. If you don’t return to his lodge immediately, I promise you he’ll be angry.”
    “I don’t know, ma’am. Prince Kuzan was quite explicit about my instructions,” the man uncomfortably equivocated.
    “I’m sure I’ll be able to change his mind. Please, please, go back!” Alisa implored frantically.
    You might be able to at that, the coachman reflected admiringly as he looked at the beautiful, breathless young woman before him. He knew Prince Kuzan’s susceptibility to beautiful women and had spent many a nocturnal vigilwrapped in fur robes in carriage or troika, waiting for the Prince to reappear from some lady’s boudoir.
    “Very well, ma’am,” he agreed, but added carefully, “if you promise to explain to Prince Kuzan.”
    “Oh, I will, I will!” Alisa finished in a rush of grateful relief. “Thank you.” She waved and disappeared into the forest.
    With a quiet cluck of his teeth and a pull on the reins, he turned the landau around and retraced its journey.
    Alisa ran through the woods, afraid she’d be too late; would he really come to the house to find her? Horror! Please, please, make him wait, she prayed silently.
    Her heart gave a leap of pure happiness. She would see Nikki again!
    If you had an ounce of pride, she told herself. Well, she didn’t when it came to Nikki. She wanted to see him with all her heart.
    Alisa broke from the shelter of the birches into the meadow, the dew lacy and sparkling on the grass, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the glistening meadow. Suddenly she saw the tall figure of Nikki leaning against a tree, restless, impatient, fitfully slapping gloves to thigh as he moodily contemplated the toes of his boots. Alisa stopped abruptly, confused emotions coursing through her.
    Looking up at the slight sound, Nikki beheld Alisa hesitantly arrested at the edge of the grove, her gold-red hair tousled, loose tendrils falling around rosy, flushed cheeks, her breasts heaving with the exertion of the headlong rush through the woods, her yellow flower-printed linen dress damply clinging at the hemline from the dew’s wetness.
    Their glances met.
    In his eyes she saw some strange emotion. Was it relief? The transient expression vanished in an instant. Nikki smiled and started forward, opening his arms wide in welcome.Alisa hesitated, then dropped her basket and ran flying into his open arms. Nikki enfolded her in a crushing embrace.
    “Thank you for coming,” he murmured against her hair in an odd voice. “Forgive me,” he quietly added as he clasped her tightly, burying his face in her hair, taking in the smell of her, the scent and feel of clean, silken hair and sweet young flesh, the exquisite sensation of her body against his.
    As Alisa clung to him, tears of joy ran freely down her cheeks. She was lost to the world in his arms, oblivious of right or wrong, or duty or conscience, aware only of a thrilling happiness.
    For them the world held promise once again.
    “I can’t stay long,” Alisa whispered nervously.
    “I know. May I see you this afternoon?” Nikki asked with a husky urgency.
    “Yes,” she answered, surrendering heedlessly, renouncing with a giddy delirium any thought of propriety.
    “At one, then, I’ll meet you here. Hours to wait. That will be hell,” he groaned softly against her ear.
    “I must go!” she fearfully murmured.
    “I’ll walk you back,” he insisted quietly, still not releasing her from his strong arms, not wanting her to leave.
    “No! You mustn’t. Please! If someone should see you,” she pleaded, lifting her lids to gaze into Nikki’s warm, golden eyes, already kindling with an