The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman #1)

The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman #1) Page 67

14

Even without his watch, Alexander, still on military time, woke first in the early blue morning and went to wash and smoke, while Tatiana sleepily waited for him, curled into a ball like a warm bun, as if she had just come out of the oven. When he jumped into bed, he immediately pressed his ice-cold body into her. She yelped and futilely tried to get away. “Please, no! That’s just merciless. I hope they fine you for that in the army. I bet you never did that to Marazov twice.”

“I bet you’re right,” he replied, “But I don’t have inalienable rights to Marazov. You’re my wife. Now, turn to me.”

“Let go and I’ll turn.”

“Tania . . .” whispered Alexander. “I don’t need you to turn to me.” He continued to press himself into her. “But I’m not letting go until I’ve had enough of you. Until you’ve warmed me from the inside out and the outside in.”

After they made love, Tatiana made Alexander breakfast. Twelve potato pancakes, and then she sat on the blanket next to him in the crisp sunrise, every glittering day warmer than before. Alexander ate ravenously. She watched him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She smiled. “You’re always so hungry. How did you survive last winter?”

“How did I survive last winter?”

She gave him the rest of her own pancakes. He protested, but not for long when she scooted closer to him, a breath away, and fed him herself, unable to look away from his face. She felt melted before him.

“What, Tatia?” Alexander asked softly, taking the last bite from the fork in her hands. He smiled. “Did I do something you liked?”

Blushing and shaking her head once, she emitted a small excited sound and kissed him on his unshaven cheek. “Come on, husband,” she murmured. “Let’s go and shave you.”

While she was shaving him, she said, “Did I tell you that Axinya offered to fire up the banya tomorrow morning if we want to have a hot bath, and to stand guard by the door to make sure no one comes in?”

“Hmm. You told me,” Alexander replied. “I like that Axinya, but you know she’ll be standing at the door to hear us.”

“You’ll have to be quieter, then, won’t you?” Tatiana said, wiping the soap off his smooth cheek.

“I’ll have to be quieter?”

She blushed, and he smiled.

“What are we going to do today?” Tatiana asked as she finished the other cheek and dried his face. “We should go pick some blueberries later, so I can make blueberry pie.”

“We should. But first I’m going to drag that log into the water so we can have a place to sit and brush our teeth, and then I’m going to build us a table to clean our fish,” Alexander replied. “You will go to your damn sewing circle. To your women. I won’t be happy.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she told him.

“I’ll be happy.”

“Your job is to be happy.”

“I have only one job here in Lazarevo,” Alexander said, catching her around the waist. “To make love to my nubile wife.”

Tatiana almost moaned out loud. “I see a lot of talking and not a lot of—”

“How is my English?” Tatiana asked Alexander in English.

“It’s good,” Alexander replied in English. It was late morning. They were walking through the dense deciduous riverbank woods a few kilometers from home, with two buckets for blueberries, and they were supposed to be talking only in English, but Tatiana backtracked and said in Russian, “I’m reading much better than I’m talking, I think. John Stuart Mill is simply unreadable now instead of unintelligible.”

Alexander smiled. “That’s a fine distinction.” He yanked up a couple of mushrooms. “Tania, can we eat these?”

Taking them out of his hands and throwing them back on the ground, Tatiana said, “Yes. But we will only be able to eat them once.”

Alexander laughed. She said, “I have to teach you how to pick mushrooms, Shura. You can’t just rip them out of the ground like that.”

“I have to teach you how to speak English, Tania,” said Alexander.

In English, Tatiana continued, “This is my new husband, Alexander Barrington.”

And in English, Alexander replied with a smile of pleasure on his face, “And this is my young wife, Tatiana Metanova.” He kissed the top of her braided head and in Russian said, “Tatiana, now say the other words I taught you.”

She turned the color of a tomato. “No,” she stated firmly, in English. “I am not saying them.”

“Please.”

“No. Look for blueberries.” Still in English.

She saw that Alexander couldn’t have been less interested in blueberries. “What about later? Will you say them later?” he asked.

“Not now, not later,” Tatiana replied bravely. But she was not looking at him.

Alexander drew her to him. “Later,” he continued in English, “I will insist that you please me by using your English-speaking tongue in bed with me.”

Struggling slightly against him, Tatiana said in English, “It is good I am not understand what you say to me.”

“I will show you what I mean,” said Alexander, putting down his bucket.

“Later, later,” she acquiesced. “Now, pick up your backet. Collect blueberries.”

“All right,” he said in English, not letting go of her. “And it’s bucket. Come on, Tania. Say the other words.” He held her. “Your shyness is an aphrodisiac to me. Say them.”

Tatiana, breathless inside and out, said, “All right,” in English. “Pick up your bucket. Let us go house. I will practice love with you.”

Alexander laughed. “Make love to you, Tania. Make love to you.”

It was a dazzling and peaceful summer afternoon. Alexander was sawing a tree into short logs. Tatiana was by his side.

“What?”

She was nudging him.

“What? You’re like my tiny shadow. Let me finish. I have to make a bench so we can sit and eat.”

“Want to play something?”

“No. I’ve got to do this.”

“We can play Alexander Says.” She smiled invitingly.

“Later.”

“What about war-hide-and-seek?”

“Later.”

“What? Afraid of losing again, Captain?” She grinned.

“Oh, you . . .”

“You want to . . . cavort?”

Alexander glanced at her. She blushed and said, “I meant really cavort. Frolic in the water. I want to stand in the palm of your hand and have you lift me above your head—”

“Only if I can fling you after.”

“Never heard it called that before, but all right, you got yourself a game.”

Laughing, not letting go of the saw, Alexander said, “We will do all that and twice, but first I have to finish sawing this damn wood.”

Tatiana was silent a second. “Do you want to show me how you do your military push-ups?” She paused. “Fifty in a row?”

“Only if you give me an incentive.”

“Fine. Now?”

“You’re too much. Later.”

She was silent another second. “Do you want to arm wrestle?”

“Arm wrestle?” Alexander said with a disbelieving grin. “You’re joking, right?”

“Come on, big man, what are you, afraid?” She tickled him.

“Stop.”

Tatiana tickled him again, croaking like a chicken. “Croak, croak, croak.”

“That’s it.” He put down his saw, but she was already halfway across the clearing, running away and shrieking. He ran after her, yelling, “You better not let me catch you!”

She let him catch her with joy in the woods. Whirling her to him and panting, he said, “You’re not allowed to tickle me when I have a saw in my hand!”

Tatiana was laughing. “But, Shura, you always have something in your hand. If it’s not a saw, it’s a cigarette, or an ax, or—”

He grabbed her bottom.

“Yes, or—”

He grabbed her breasts.

“Do you see what I mean?” she said, panting herself. “So wrestle me to the ground.” She paused. “Like you want.” She couldn’t get her breath back as he hugged her. Either he didn’t know his own strength or he was afraid of not being able to hold her close enough. Tatiana hoped it was the first one. “I’m here, Shura, I’m here,” she panted, gently patting him. “Come on now.”

He let her go, and she stood in front of him for a moment.

“All right.” Alexander grinned. “You got me away from my work, now what? Push-ups now, cavort now, what now?”

They stood without moving. Tatiana’s eyes twinkled. Alexander’s eyes twinkled. She moved left, right—

But he was quicker this time. “Got to be quicker than that,” he said, grabbing her and then setting her back down. “Try again?”

She moved right, right, left—

Still not quick enough. “Try again?”

Motionlessly she stood, stood, lunged left, and was around him on the right before he even straightened up.

Squealing, Tatiana jumped into his arms as he ran for her, and then hugging him and kissing his face, she said, “Let’s do this. Let me blindfold you. I’ll spin you around, and then you have to stumble around the clearing and find me.” She giggled. “Stop tickling me.”

“I’m tired of you blindfolding me,” Alexander replied, continuing to tickle her. “How about instead if I blindfold you and feed you and you tell me what I’m putting in your mouth?”

Tatiana was laughing even before he finished. Alexander looked at her innocently. “What?”

“Shura!” she exclaimed. “How about if even before you blindfold me, I tell you what you’re going to put in my mouth?”

Alexander laughed himself, carrying her to the house. “You have yourself a game,” he said, “But only if you call what I’m putting in your mouth by name — in English.” He put his hands under her dress, caressing her.

“Shura?”

“Yes?”

“Let go of me. I have to go and hide. You have to find me.”

“Why should I have to find you? You’re already right here.” He fondled her bottom.

“Shura, you’re holding me too tight. I can’t move.”

“I know. I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“What kind of game is this?”

“The same game we play all day long.”

“Which is . . .”

“Get up, make love. Wash, make love. Cook, eat, make love. Swim, make love. Play soccer, play dominoes, play blindfold, make love.”

“Yes, but here we’re going straight to making love. Where’s the fun in that?”