Читать книгу Modern Romance October 2015 Books 1-4 - Эбби Грин, Annie West - Страница 14
ОглавлениеIT WAS A long time since Erin had stayed in a five-star hotel. Not since she’d worked for Dimitri, when luxury had been the norm. When she’d taken for granted the valets and bellboys and meals which arrived on silent trolleys concealed by heavy silver domes.
Dimitri’s car had dropped her off at the Heathrow branch of the Granchester hotel chain, which was tucked away only ten minutes’ drive from Heathrow. True, her suite didn’t have the greatest view in the world but the bathroom was every woman’s fantasy. After stripping off all her clothes, she lost herself in a world of scented bubbles and dried her hair and was just padding around in the oversized towelling robe, when the doorbell rang.
At first she thought it might be the soup and salad she’d ordered from room service, but instead she found Dimitri’s assistant, Sofia, standing there, her arms laden down with glossy bags and shoe boxes.
‘Dimitri said you’d need these,’ she said as Erin invited her in.
Erin stared at the bags in confusion. ‘What are they?’
‘Clothes suitable for staying in a country with clothing restrictions a little more rigid than our own.’
Erin nodded. She guessed what Sofia meant was that her own everyday clothes would be completely unsuitable for a stay in a royal palace. Her ordinary jeans and sweaters and dresses—bought in chain stores or online—would highlight a relative poverty which might reflect badly on Dimitri. If she was supposed to be the secretary to one of the world’s richest men, it followed she would need to look the part. Erin watched as Sofia pulled a full-length fitted gown from one of the bags and gave an instinctive little murmur of pleasure.
‘How did you know my size?’ she questioned as she leaned forward to touch it, her fingertips skating over the exquisitely embroidered silk dress.
‘I had a rough idea from the way my jeans fitted you—or didn’t fit you!—but it was Dimitri who guessed,’ answered Sofia, with a slightly embarrassed shrug.
Erin gave a wry smile. Of course he had guessed. With the amount of women Dimitri had bedded, he could probably work out a woman’s measurements to within the nearest centimetre.
Sofia left soon after and Erin picked at a supper she didn’t really want, before getting into the largest and softest bed she’d ever seen. Except that she couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking back over the things Dimitri had said. The way he’d described himself as Mr Respectable and her natural reluctance to believe him. Or maybe she didn’t dare believe him. Because how could a red-blooded sinner like him suddenly become a bona fide saint?
The hotel was deathly quiet and she glanced at her watch and grimaced. Three-fifteen in the morning. Picking up the TV’s remote control, she put on the rolling news summary. Bright pictures appeared on the giant screen and she lay there listening to the drone of the announcer until she must have dropped off, because she awoke to the sound of her phone ringing.
It was Sofia, telling her that the car was waiting outside to take her to the airport and that Dimitri would meet her there.
‘And I hope...’ Sofia hesitated. ‘I hope you have a lovely vacation in Jazratan.’
‘Vacation’ wouldn’t have been Erin’s word of choice as one of Dimitri’s powerful jets thundered down the runway and soared up into the cloudless autumn sky. And she didn’t feel remotely vacation-like when the plane touched down on Jazratan soil eight hours later. They had exchanged few words during the long flight, but that hadn’t stopped her from being uncomfortably aware of his presence. Especially when he’d first seen her in the full-length embroidered dress, which made walking more difficult than usual. The soft silk revealed no flesh whatsoever, but Erin had felt almost naked as those blue eyes burned into her.
She hated the way her body tingled in response, as if it were written into her DNA that she should desire him every time he looked at her with hunger in his eyes...
She’d tried to read a magazine, wondering if he was aware that she wasn’t taking in a single word. She found herself ridiculously grateful when he fell asleep and for once his hard face softened. And even though she’d tried not to, it had been impossible not to drink in the carved beauty of his proud features—until one of the stewards had appeared and she’d been forced to hastily avert her gaze.
Her body felt stiff as the aircraft doors were pushed open and her sense of detachment only increased when she saw the deputation of robed figures waiting to greet them. Nervously, she smoothed down her hair, which had already begun to react to the dense blanket of heat which hit them the moment they stepped outside. The burning heat and the vivid blue sky were so different from the drizzle she’d left back at home in England, and she’d never gone away without Leo before. She thought about her son back in London and felt a sudden pang as she turned to Dimitri. The desert sun was gilding his hair into an abundance of deepest gold and she thought his eyes had never looked quite so blue. ‘I must ring Leo.’
‘I think it had better wait until we have reached the royal palace,’ he said. ‘There’s a certain amount of protocol we need to get through before you start pulling out your cell phone.’
This can’t be happening, Erin thought as she was ushered into the first of a convoy of vehicles by the light press of Dimitri’s hand at her spine. I can’t be in an air-conditioned car so cold that it feels like travelling in an icebox, while outside there are palm trees and camels carrying men with headdresses billowing behind them as they move across the dusty sands.
But it was happening. Every surreal second of it. People were bowing as the convoy went past—as if they suspected that their royal king might be enclosed in one of the long line of dark vehicles. The car was approaching an enormous domed palace whose golden gates were opening before them. Past stern-faced guards they drove, into vast and formal grounds, studded with marble statues and exotic blooms she’d never seen before. She found herself wondering how on earth the grass could be so green when nothing but dust and desert surrounded them. She wondered what kind of birds she could hear singing in those strange and beautiful trees.
‘Excited?’ came the accented caress of Dimitri’s voice from beside her as they came to a halt.
She turned to look at him, hating the instant thudding of her heart. Why did it have to be him who made her body react like this? Why couldn’t she have desired some other man to tease her bare breasts with his teeth, as Dimitri had done on that long-ago night she’d never forgotten.
‘I don’t know if “excited” is the word I’d use,’ she answered, trying to sound blasé. ‘It will be an interesting experience to see a country I would never normally get the chance to visit—but the thought of being cooped up with you for two days isn’t exactly filling me with joy.’
‘Oh, really?’ he drawled, knotting his silk tie as he glanced towards the palace doors. ‘And fascinating as this discussion is, I think we’re going to have to take a rain check. Because if you look over there you’ll see a man in golden robes heading this way. It seems that the Sheikh of Jazratan has come out in person to greet us.’
* * *
‘I notice that you have been very preoccupied tonight, my friend.’
Dimitri smiled as he listened to the Sheikh’s silken words, for they both knew that the title of ‘friend’ was completely spurious. The man who said it was too remote and too powerful to have true friends—indeed, Saladin was as friendless as he, for men like them always stood alone.
But that was the way he liked it.
Dimitri watched as yet another fragrant platter of food was placed before him, waiting until the robed male servant had withdrawn, before turning to the hawk-faced king beside him.
‘Have I?’
‘Mmm.’ The Sheikh waved away another servant who was hovering with a water jug. ‘I note that you have barely been able to tear your gaze away from your secretary all evening.’
Dimitri picked up a jewel-inlaid goblet and sipped from it. ‘Is it not always the instinct of a man to look at a woman, particularly when she is the only one present?’
‘Indeed it is,’ commented Saladin thoughtfully, his eyebrows rising to just below the edge of his white headdress. ‘But she does not fall into the category of your preferred blondes, one of whom I saw pictured with you in the newspapers not a fortnight ago.’
Dimitri gave a thin smile. ‘You surprise me, Saladin. I did not have you down as a reader of tabloid newspapers.’
The Sheikh’s eyes hardened. ‘Ah, but I always do my research. I like to know about the lifestyle of my prospective business partners.’
Dimitri put his goblet down, his heart giving a quick beat—as if sensing that, after so many years of delicate negotiation, the prize was at last within his grasp. But he kept all emotion from his voice. ‘Do I take it this means you have agreed to sell me the oil fields?’
A shadow of something imperceptible moved across Saladin’s hawklike features.
‘I try never to conduct business at mealtimes,’ he said smoothly. ‘It has been a long day and your secretary is looking somewhat weary. I trust that your sleeping arrangements meet with your satisfaction?’
Dimitri stiffened, wondering what Saladin was hinting at. Had he suspected that he and Erin had once been lovers and might have preferred a shared suite rather than the two adjoining ones they’d been allocated? No. He felt the flicker of a pulse at his temple. One unplanned night all those years ago did not put them in the category of lovers. It had been nothing. Nothing but a blip. He drank some more pomegranate juice. And yet he had never been able to completely forget that night, had he? It had been too easy to recall the way he’d felt as he had thrust deep inside her. The memory of her slim-hipped body and tiny breasts was curiously persistent. It was forbidden fruit at its sweetest.
He saw Saladin watching her and felt a responding shimmer of something which felt decidedly territorial. The mother of his child was sitting between Prince Khalim of Maraban and the ambassador of nearby Qurhah, looking almost as if she had been born to eat from jewelled platters, in the sumptuous opulence of a state banqueting room.
It was an image he found difficult to reconcile, because this was not the Erin he knew. She had always been such a back room type of person, content to apply herself industriously at the office and fade into the fixtures and fittings. Unlike other members of his staff, she had never hankered after the glamour of the high-profile parties and events he was regularly invited to.
Had he thought she might seem out of her depth here, in such imposing and opulent surroundings—where chandeliers like cascades of diamonds dangled from the ceilings, and intricate mosaic work made the walls look as if they were fashioned from pure gold? Because if that was the case, then he had been wrong.
Tonight she seemed to have an innate grace about her which he’d never really noticed when she’d been sitting behind a desk, fielding his phone calls. Her wrists were so damned delicate, he thought, watching as she lifted a jewel-studded goblet to her lips and sipped from it. The residue of the drink left a faint gleam on her lips and he found himself noticing how perfect they looked.
He narrowed his eyes. What was the matter with him tonight? What was it about her which made her seem so...bewitching? Surely it couldn’t just be that silvery-green gown, which made her body gleam like a mermaid and brought out the colour of her eyes. He wondered what she was saying to that Qurhahian which had made him throw back his dark head and laugh so much.
At that moment she seemed to sense his eyes on her, because slowly she turned her head and met his steady gaze. And something about the stillness which settled over her made the rest of the room suddenly retreat. The sounds of chatter became muffled and all Dimitri could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat. With a start, he realised that she looked almost beautiful.
His fingers tightened around his goblet. Whoever would have guessed that Erin Turner could look so at home in this regal setting? That in spite of the maelstrom of events which had led to her being here, she had somehow maintained an air of calm and dignity, which she was carrying off with aplomb?
He could feel the urgent jerk of his erection and wondered if he was imagining the tightening of her nipples in response to his scrutiny, or whether that was simply his own fantasy running wild. He felt a momentary pang of regret as he realised that he hadn’t enjoyed Erin Turner as a woman should be enjoyed. His desire for her had been raw and unfamiliar. A one-off he’d found difficult to understand—both at the time and afterwards. But it had been at a dark time in his life, hadn’t it? Just about the time when he’d reached his rock-bottom, and Erin had witnessed every second of it.
He had seen the look of alarm in her eyes when she’d arrived at his apartment that night. A look which had given away to relief when he’d eventually answered the door and she realised that he’d been delayed by nothing more onerous than a shower. He remembered feeling weary—and jaded. He’d spent the previous night in a casino, being fawned over by women wearing nothing but a smattering of sequins, but Erin had looked so young and so fresh in that boxy navy work suit that desire had suddenly taken root inside him. And once it had been planted, it had grown like something rampant and uncontrollable.
He had kissed her more as an experiment than anything else—expecting a prim response or even a slap round the face for daring to make a pass at her. But it hadn’t turned out that way. She had kissed him back—with a passion which had more to do with enthusiasm than experience, and it had blown him away. He hadn’t planned to pull her into his arms and God only knew how they had ended up on his dining-room table, with him ripping off her panties and her urging him on with a gurgle of delighted laughter. He remembered his shuddered shout of pleasure as he had eased himself into her tight and sticky warmth.
But the sex had only been the beginning and he hadn’t liked what had come afterwards. Daylight had brought with it disbelief. It had felt claustrophobic to wake up in Erin’s arms. He had felt uncomfortable beneath that sweet, uncomplicated gaze of hers. His decision to fly unexpectedly to Russia had been dramatic but necessary, because she’d made him feel stuff. Stuff he hadn’t wanted to feel—and it was easier to escape from it than to confront it.
A robed servant removed his untouched dessert and replaced it with a cup of mint tea and suddenly Dimitri couldn’t wait for dinner to end as he realised he wanted sex with Erin Turner again. His mouth dried. He wanted a replay of what had happened all those years ago, only this time he wanted to do it long and slow.
He shook his head as he tried to fight the hungry demands of his body. Because this was the woman who deceived him. The woman who had decided to play judge and jury and to hide his child from him, without ever giving him the opportunity to show her he’d changed. He thought of another woman who had done something similar and he felt his heart twist with a cold anger.
He realised that the Sheikh was speaking to him and forced himself to listen.
‘You must be weary after your travels, Makarov?’
‘A little,’ Dimitri agreed.
‘Then we will retire for the night, since negotiations are better conducted by the light of day, following a good night’s sleep and a little exercise.’ The Sheikh smiled. ‘I believe you ride?’
‘Of course,’ said Dimitri.
‘Then perhaps you would care to join me in the morning?’ The Sheikh’s eyes gleamed. ‘I have two fine new stallions I am keen to show you and to put through their paces.’
Dimitri gave a little click of irritation. ‘I would like nothing better but have brought no riding clothes with me.’
‘This is of no matter.’ The Sheikh gave an impatient wave of his hand. ‘I can provide you with something. We are men of similar size, I think. Meet me at eight—before the sun is too high and the desert heat becomes merciless. And in the meantime I shall bid you and your secretary a good night.’ The Sheikh rose to his feet and everyone fell silent as he swept from the room, followed by a retinue of servants.
As the chatter recommenced Dimitri stood up and walked round the other side of the table, where Erin was giggling at something the Qurhahian official was saying. Was that what made Dimitri clamp a possessive hand over her arm, or simply that the desire to touch her had become too strong to resist?
‘Zvezda moya, you have spent many hours travelling today,’ he said, seeing the faint clouding of her eyes which she couldn’t quite disguise. As if it was hypocritical of him to use the Russian term of endearment, or to whisper his fingertips over her slamming pulse like that. Unseen, he circled his thumb over the delicate skin and he felt her heart pick up even more speed. ‘Let us follow the Sheikh’s good example and retire for the night.’
Erin nodded as she stood up and said goodnight to the interesting ambassador from Qurhah, who had told her so many interesting things about living in the desert. She would never have guessed in a million years that the way to stop yourself feeling thirsty was to suck on a pebble, or that cacti had so many medicinal uses. In a way she was reluctant to leave the table, but she could hardly sit there all night just because she was terrified about the thought of being alone with Dimitri. Especially after the way he had been ogling her during dinner.
And the way her body had instinctively responded to him. That was what was worrying her more than anything. She’d tried to rationalise it as best she could, but in the end she’d been forced to face the truth. That she still wanted him. She swallowed. But that didn’t mean she was going to follow through. Because even though she’d ring-fenced her heart, Dimitri could still mess with her head. He could make her want things she knew were bad for her.
Mainly him.
Walking rigidly alongside him, she attempted to concentrate on her surroundings as they left the banqueting hall, trying to steer her thoughts away from his power and strength. But it wasn’t easy. There was a definite edge to him tonight. An edge which was all about sex—she guessed that, despite her relative innocence. The hunger in his eyes had been unmistakable as he’d stared at her across the dinner table—and she couldn’t deny that the feeling had been mutual. She had been overcome with a breathless need to feel him close to her again. To have him crush his lips down on hers. To let him pin her down onto the mattress and...and...
Erin swallowed.
And it wasn’t going to happen.
It couldn’t happen.
Because sex with Dimitri would weaken her. It would tear down her defences and make her helpless. And she couldn’t afford to be helpless. For Leo’s sake, she had to stay strong.
He might have changed in many ways. He might no longer be gambling, or drinking or embracing danger with a reckless hunger—but there was no guarantee that his attitude towards women was any different. Remember the way he treated you. She certainly hadn’t been expecting violins and commitment from him, but after that single night of sex he had been barely able to look her in the eyes. He’d acted as if the whole extraordinary night had never happened.
Her sandals made little sound as they made their way along the marbled corridors. But the magnificent architecture and scented courtyards were wasted on her—just like the wrought-iron lamps which flickered delicate patterns onto the walls. Her mind started picturing her little apartment back home, where everything she held dear was centred. She thought about a little boy sitting at a table, crayoning. She thought about his warm milk and bedtime story and those innocent eyes, which were so like those of his manipulative father, and her heart clenched.
They reached her suite first and stopped outside and Erin felt slightly breathless as she pushed open the door. Inside, low divans were scattered with brocade cushions and the powerful scent of roses wafted through the air.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, thinking how inadequate that word sounded when all she could think about was that he was close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss. So go. Go now—before the cool gleam of his eyes entices you any more and the sensual lines of his lips tempt you into doing something you shouldn’t. But her sandaled feet didn’t move from the spot.
Dimitri stared at the woman in front of him, conscious of the mixed messages she was sending out, and conscious of his own feelings of confusion. He wanted to remember the web of deceit she had woven and to remind himself that she’d told the same lies as his own, dear mother. But the hungry throb of desire which pulsed through his body was far stronger than his reservations. Part of him hated what he was about to do, but he seemed unable to stop himself from stepping onto the inevitable path of seduction. ‘You look beautiful tonight, Erin.’
She looked momentarily nonplussed, as if she wasn’t used to receiving compliments about her looks. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice betraying a hint of nerves. ‘I have Sofia to thank for the dress. She has excellent taste.’
‘I don’t want to talk about Sofia’s taste.’
‘No,’ she said, looking as if she was trying to make herself yawn. ‘Actually, it’s very late and I want to go to sleep—’
‘Are you quite sure about that?’ he questioned.
‘About...what? About whether I want to go to sleep?’
‘About what you really want.’ He reached out to touch her cheek. ‘See how you shiver when I touch you?’
‘Maybe I’m cold.’
‘In the desert?’
She licked her lips. ‘Dimitri,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what? Don’t tell it how it is, when I get the distinct feeling that you want me as much as I want you. Don’t you? I think you want me to kiss you—and God knows I want that, too. You’ve driven me crazy all through dinner. I could barely concentrate on a word the Sheikh was saying because I kept looking at you and thinking how much I longed to touch you.’
His words disarmed her and so did the molten look of desire in his eyes—and Erin was already weakened by her own desire and the stupid vulnerability which his passionate words had stirred up. Was that to blame for what happened next—so quickly and so completely that any other action seemed unthinkable? One minute she was staring at him and trying to summon up the strength to walk away and the next she was in his arms and he was kissing her so hungrily that she thought she gasped, or squealed or something.
Perhaps the sound reminded him that they were on the Sheikh’s territory and the rules governing Jazratan were far stricter than their own, because suddenly Dimitri was levering her into her suite and shutting the door behind them. For a moment she just stared at him with her heart beating wildly beneath the beautiful dress and then he was pushing her up against the wall and kissing her.
One last stab at reason told her to stop him before it was too late, but she simply ignored it, coiling her arms greedily around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Because he was right. Her eyelids flickered to a close as his tongue began to explore her mouth. She did still want him.
For years she’d been yearning for his kiss—not the arrogant mark of possession which had taken place in the register office, but this. A real kiss.
When she’d lain sleepless, with his baby kicking beneath her heart, she had wanted him to hold her tight like this. In those early years of struggle, when she’d discovered that Leo was allergic to peanuts and she’d felt as if she’d been running round chasing her tail, existing on hardly any sleep and far too much black coffee, she had longed for the comfort of a man’s touch.
Dimitri’s touch.
And now she had it—and it was all-consuming. He was driving his lips down hard on hers and she was responding in kind, not just because she felt frustrated and empty or because he was irresistible—it went much deeper than that. Because their cells had mingled when their child had formed inside her and Dimitri had awoken her in so many ways. He had taken her virginity and given her an orgasm and made her pregnant, all during one long night of bliss.
His hands were moving over her body, palms undulating over the narrow curves of waist and hips, as if he were discovering them for the first time. She heard his low growl of pleasure as he brought her up against the growing hardness at his groin, mirrored by the molten rush of heat to her sex. He cupped one of her breasts, curling his fingers over the shiny green material, and her nipple pushed insistently against his palm as she teetered on the brink of giving in to the urgent demands of her body. A couple of minutes more and he would be undressing her. He would be kissing his way over her naked body and she would be urging him on, just like last time.
Until the truth hit her like a bucket of ice water as she realised what he was doing. Once again, she was letting him use her. She had dressed up for dinner and behaved as impeccably as she knew how and he was responding by behaving as if she were nothing more than a decorative object he could take to bed without conscience. As if she were a piece of clay he could mould to his own desires, never stopping to think that she might have feelings—and that he might be trampling all over them.
Tearing her lips away from his, she used all her strength to plant her hands on his shoulders to push him away and he jerked his head back in surprise.
His eyes darkened. ‘What’s wrong?’
She stepped away from him and the temptation he presented. She could feel the heat of her face and the thunder of her pulse as she glared at him. ‘What’s wrong? Are you...serious?’ she demanded breathlessly. ‘Do you really think you can walk back into my life and completely disrupt it—and then expect me to have sex with you, just because you’ve snapped your fingers?’
‘But you want me.’
He said it unequivocally—like someone stating calmly that the sky was blue—and all the anger which had been simmering away inside Erin now came to the boil.
‘Oh, I might want you,’ she agreed. ‘My body may have been programmed to react to yours in a way I don’t particularly like, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to follow through. Because you don’t have any respect for women, do you, Dimitri? Not just me, but any woman. You use your undoubted charisma to get them into your bed, but you blaze through their lives without thinking about the consequences. You used me that night because you were in a dark place—and afterwards you just cast me aside, as if I was someone of no consequence. Like I was a thing—not a person.’
She shook her head as she struggled to get more breath in her lungs. ‘I thought my sister was wrong to tell you about my wedding—but now I can see it was probably the right thing to do. Leo does have the right to know about his father. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to act like...like some sort of convenience by getting intimate with you. Because that night was a one-off and it was a mistake.’
‘Erin—’
‘No! You aren’t going to change my mind—no matter how hard you try.’ Frustratedly she pushed a handful of hair away from her hot face. ‘While we’re here we can accomplish what we initially set out to do. I will pretend to be your secretary if that’s what you want and we can use the time to decide on a way forward best suited to our son. But I don’t plan on having sex with you, Dimitri—not now and not ever—so you’d better get that into your stubborn head.’
