Читать книгу Modern Romance October 2015 Books 1-4 - Эбби Грин, Annie West - Страница 20

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NOW WHAT?

Dimitri glanced across the room to where Leo was teaching Erin how to play the popular card game of P’yanitsa. A game the boy hadn’t known how to play until earlier that week, but he was a quick learner—and now he was playing it as well as any Russian. Dimitri felt a stir of pride whisper over him as he studied the bent head of dark gold—so like his own—as once again the question nagged at him.

What was he going to do about the problem of a small boy and a woman who talked more than was comfortable?

His eyes moved to the woman in question as he watched Erin smiling as Leo scooped up a handful of cards with a triumphant whoop. To look at her now—you would never have guessed that a few hours ago he had been deep inside her while the rest of the house still slept. She had ridden him as he had shown her how he liked to be ridden, his hands on either side of her hips as he had positioned her to make penetration even deeper. And afterwards she had choked out her sigh as his tongue had slid down over her and he’d tasted her flesh.

‘You must learn to be a good sport, darling,’ she was saying softly. ‘And to play fair.’

Play fair. It wouldn’t have been the lesson Dimitri would have focused on. In fact, up until a week ago, he would have said the opposite—that playing fair never got you anywhere. That in the big, harsh world out there, it was dog eat dog. But now he could see that you shouldn’t teach a child to cut corners, or to operate ruthlessly. He understood that you needed to show them how to do things right in order for them to live right. Just because his own childhood had been messed up, that was no reason for him to try to impose his own cynicism on someone else.

And Erin had shown him that—by example rather than preaching. She was patient and understanding with Leo—pretty much every minute of every day—and Dimitri knew with a heavy certainty that he could never be the instrument to drive the two of them apart. His heart pounded. Because hadn’t that been a consideration when he’d first found out about Leo—thinking he might be able to lure the boy away using the power of his wealth and influence? He’d planned to show the child that he could have more fun in penthouses and private jets than he ever could living in the cramped quarters above his aunt’s café. But that option wasn’t on the cards any more—and it made him uncomfortable to think he could have ever entertained such a ruthless strategy.

He stared out of the window, where the grey skies were heavy with snow and the occasional stray flake drifted past like a white feather. But experience told him that the snow would not fall tonight and it looked as if Leo wouldn’t get his snowman, no matter how hard he wished for it. Tomorrow they were flying back to England because half-term was almost over and Dimitri knew he needed to come to some sort of decision about what was going to happen.

He waited until Leo had gone through his bedtime routine and, once he’d been embraced in a sleepy bear hug, Dimitri went downstairs to wait for Erin in the library while she read a bedtime story.

He lit a fire, which crackled magnificently—the light from the flames flickering over the rows of books which lined the room, while Shostakovich played in the background. He spoke to Svetlana and soon two crystal flutes were standing beside a bottle in an ice bucket, but Erin’s footsteps were so quiet that he didn’t realise she was in the room until she was standing right in front of him.

She had changed and brushed her hair, so that it gleamed like a dark waterfall around her shoulders, and a soft woollen dress was hugging her slender hips. He noticed that she frowned slightly when she saw the bottle standing on the table next to the peach blossom bonsai tree.

‘Champagne?’ she said lightly. ‘Why, are we celebrating something?’

‘I don’t know.’ He lifted the bottle from the ice bucket and cold droplets slid onto his fingers. ‘At least, not yet.’

‘Is this some sort of guessing game?’

‘Do you want to try guessing?’

‘Okay.’ She screwed up her face. ‘We’re celebrating a successful trip?’

‘That’s one thing we could drink to, I agree. It has been a very successful trip.’ He peeled away the foil and let it flutter to the table. ‘Which is why I think we should get married.’

Erin stared at him.

‘Did you say married—just out of the blue like that?’

‘Why not?’ There was a hissing little pop as he eased the cork from the bottle. ‘What do you say?’

What did she say? Erin swallowed. She didn’t have a clue how to respond. She felt perplexed—and bewildered. This had come out of nowhere with no warning whatsoever. And now he was pouring champagne, which was fizzing up the sides of a flute so delicate she was terrified her shaking hand might snap off its fragile stem. She shook her head as he held the flute out towards her.

‘Not right now, thanks. This has come as a bit of a shock,’ she said, aware of the glaring understatement in her words. She tried to rid her voice of any hope or expectation. ‘I mean, why? Why do you want to marry me, Dimitri?’

‘You don’t know?’

‘If I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask.’

He smiled. ‘Because of Leo, of course.’

Of course.

Erin nodded. The logical part of her brain had known that all along but that didn’t protect her from the sudden stupid lurch of disappointment which chilled her skin. And she didn’t want to be disappointed. She wanted to be cool and calm and impartial. Just like him. She wanted to treat a proposal of marriage with the same kind of careless interest as it had been offered. ‘And how would that work?’ she said.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘Not to me, no. I’m not in the habit of getting random proposals of marriage from men who only a short time ago were barely able to look at me without being furious. You’ll have to talk me through it.’

He turned the swell of music down by a fraction and one of the logs in the fireplace spat out a shoal of bright sparks. ‘You must realise that I’ve grown very fond of Leo.’

She nodded. ‘That’s good.’

‘And I consider you an excellent mother. I told you that.’

‘Again, that’s very good. But neither of these facts are reasons enough for us to get married, Dimitri.’

‘No, they aren’t. But there are other considerations, too. Financially you cannot deny that you struggle, while, fortunately, I do not. And my wealth could help make both your lives considerably more comfortable.’

She tried to smile. ‘You realise you don’t have to put a gold band on my finger in order to pay maintenance?’

The second movement of the concerto came to a finish and the fire spat again—a hissing and angry sound this time.

‘Damn you, Erin Turner.’ Dimitri’s words fell softly and fervently into the short silence which followed. ‘Do you really want me to spell this out for you?’

She met his eyes. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to.’

‘It’s more than just about the money. I want to be there for him,’ he said, his voice growing deep, and passionate. ‘To be there for the ordinary things—not just the high days and holidays. I want grumpy mornings as well as Christmas morning. I want to be hands-on—not absent for most of the time. To give him what I never had.’

Erin stared at him as a bubble of hope began to rise inside her—even though she was doing everything in her power not to get ahead of herself. In case it was futile. In case it hurt her in a way she’d vowed she would never let herself get hurt. ‘And you would marry me in order to achieve that?’

‘Yes,’ he said emphatically. ‘I would. Because I’ve come to realise that you are the perfect woman for me.’

Erin blinked because now hope was refusing to listen to her reservations. It was hurtling through her body like a runaway train and flattening everything in its track. ‘I am?’

His icy eyes glittered. ‘Indeed you are. I like the way that you don’t try to manipulate me or covet my money, or possessions.’ He paused. ‘And, of course, you drive me wild in bed. Wilder than I ever thought possible, zvezda moya.’

‘And that’s enough?’

‘No, it is not. But you have another attribute which is rare. So rare that I have never found it before. The silver bullet, if you like—which is that you don’t love me. You don’t believe in love. Well, neither do I.’ He smiled. ‘Now, isn’t that just a match made in heaven?’

Her knees went weak and Erin only just managed to stop herself from crumpling as she listened to his cruel parody of a marriage proposal. Everything a man was traditionally supposed to say at a time like this, he had twisted round. He had made dark what was supposed to be light. He had projected a future which would make their proposed union into nothing but a mockery. A pastiche of a marriage, which would be little better than the one which had ruined his own life.

‘And you think that’s the kind of example I want to set my son?’ she questioned, her voice trembling with a hurt she could no longer hide. ‘That I want him growing up with two people who are proud of never experiencing an emotion which has driven the human race since the beginning of time?’

‘I didn’t say I was proud of it.’

‘I don’t care what you said,’ she hissed, aware that her sense of logic was haemorrhaging by the second.

‘And I don’t understand either your outrage or your objections,’ he snapped. ‘You were happy enough to marry Chico for financial security, weren’t you? When we both know he wasn’t offering you half the benefits you could get from me.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ she snapped as she heard the unmistakable sexual allusion which had roughened his voice. Did he really think that could sway her? That his skill between the sheets would make her forget all her principles? She shook her head. ‘I don’t need a heartless man to bankroll the life I want for Leo and me. I can achieve what I need all by myself, Dimitri, and what’s more—I’m going to. There’s nothing to stop us moving out of London and going to live in a cheaper part of England. There’s a whole lot of beautiful countryside just waiting out there.’

‘But think how much easier it would be with me behind you.’

‘But that’s where you’re completely wrong.’ She shook her head as she stared at him, aware of the crackling fire and the heavy beat of her heart. ‘Because I’ve suddenly discovered a fundamental flaw in my own argument.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he said coldly.

Maybe because she was only just beginning to understand herself. She sucked in a deep breath, realising that she was laying everything on the line here. But why run from the truth any more? Surely it was better to feel something rather than nothing. To live rather than to exist. Because Dimitri had been right about one thing and that was that you couldn’t protect yourself against being hurt. That being hurt was part of life itself.

‘I thought I didn’t believe in love,’ she said slowly. ‘But the irony is that somewhere along the way I’ve fallen in love with you, Dimitri. I didn’t want to. I still don’t want to—because you’re the last man in the world any sane woman would choose to be in love with. You’re cold and you’re heartless and you don’t give out your trust very easily. But don’t they say that the heart takes no prisoners? I started loving you a long time ago, and, no matter how hard I’ve tried to get you out of my system, it seems that none of my methods have worked.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Oh, don’t worry—I’m not asking you to reciprocate, because I realise you can’t. But obviously I can’t marry you under these circumstances. It wouldn’t be fair—not to you, nor to me and especially not to Leo.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because unrequited love doesn’t work,’ she said impatiently. ‘It’s a recipe for disaster—everyone knows that! And love doesn’t really last. All the books say it changes once all that new sex wears off.’

‘But hasn’t your parents’ love affair lasted?’

She glared at him, wondering why he was trying to argue for something he didn’t believe in. Was it just because he always liked to win? She stared at the two glasses of champagne, which had now stopped fizzing. ‘They are the exception which proves the rule,’ she said quietly. ‘And they’re ordinary people—not oligarchs. My father doesn’t have women throwing themselves at him every minute of the day, like you do. You’re only objecting because I’m not doing what you want me to do. But the reality is that you’ll grow bored with me and start looking round for someone younger and prettier—and I couldn’t bear that. I’m just being realistic and facing facts, because falling in love doesn’t mean I’ve had part of my brain removed. I’m doing you a favour, Dimitri. I’m not going to limit your time with Leo—in fact, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you see as much of him as you want. But I’m not going to marry you. Do you understand?’