Читать книгу Billionaire Without A Past - Carol Marinelli - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

‘RACHEL, I JUST don’t understand.’

Libby was clearly perplexed by Rachel’s shocking news that, after a long tour of Australasia, she had left the dance company. The two women had, until recently, not only danced with the same company but had also been flatmates. Last year, just before she had met her now husband, Daniil, Libby herself had retired.

In truth, Libby had been pushed into the decision and Rachel could well remember her friend’s struggle to let go of the career she loved so. They had discussed it over and over.

Rachel had made up her mind by herself.

They were friends but very different. Libby wore her heart on her sleeve, whereas Rachel kept hers not just buried in a deep vault but one where the key had been thrown away and wet concrete poured over it.

She let no one in.

Oh, she chatted, but it was mainly about the other person, and she flirted and dated but it was always on her terms.

Always.

They were in Rachel’s vast suite at a luxury hotel, getting ready to attend a very prominent London wedding. Rachel had never actually met the happy couple, she was there more to support Libby as Daniil was the best man and Libby was one week away from her due date.

Because Daniil owned the hotel, Rachel had been given an amazing suite. Anxious about sharing her news while determined to be upbeat for her friend today, Rachel had taken a long fragrant bath, with heated curlers in. It had done nothing to quell the nerves that lived permanently in her chest.

Rachel was always anxious, even if she hid it well, but now it felt as if everything was coming to a head.

The bath hadn’t worked its magic and she had already been running late when Libby had arrived. Preparations had further stalled when Rachel had, oh, so casually dropped the news that she would not be returning to the dance company,

‘But what will you do?’ Libby asked.

‘I’m not sure yet,’ Rachel admitted as she started to pull the jumbo heated rollers out of her long red hair. ‘I intend to work it out over a lot of long lazy evenings and morning lie-ins!’

‘I don’t get how you can have left without having made any plans. I thought you were happy...’

‘I was happy. I still am,’ Rachel said, and then she promptly changed the subject by going into her overnight bag and pulling out a burnt-orange velvet dress. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s very...’ Libby’s voice trailed off as Rachel squeezed herself into her very tight dress, but as she slithered it down past her thighs she frowned as she looked over and saw the pained expression on Libby’s face.

‘You cannot go into labour today,’ Rachel warned.

‘I know I can’t,’ Libby said. ‘I keep telling myself that. I just don’t think the baby is listening.’

‘Do you think you might have it?’

‘I think I might,’ Libby admitted.

‘Oh, my!’ Rachel grinned her toothy grin. ‘How exciting.’

‘How not!’ Libby sighed. ‘This wedding is so important for Daniil, Sev is like family to him. Sev is his family.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ Rachel said with all the authority of someone who watched an awful lot of medical dramas ‘First ones take ages and ages, and anyway your waters haven’t popped. Imagine if they do in the church!’

‘You’re such a comfort, Rachel,’ Libby said, but she did smile. ‘Come on, do your make-up, we have to go.’

‘I’ll do it in the taxi...’ Rachel said, and then remembered how rich Libby was and that this wasn’t the old days. Daniil’s driver would take them to the church! She pulled on very high stilettos, in the same burnt-orange velvet as her dress, and they took the elevator down and then out to where the driver waited. Once seated in the plush car Rachel opened up her large bag and, very used to doing her make-up in less luxurious surroundings, she set to work on her face.

‘You’re ever so pale,’ Libby commented, and then remembered. ‘We didn’t have lunch!’

They had been too busy talking!

‘I didn’t have breakfast either,’ Rachel said, and took a chocolate éclair sweet out from the bottom of her bag and carried on doing her make-up. Off came the freckles, thanks to an amazing foundation she had newly discovered. Her reddish-blonde eyelashes were soon a long silky black that brought out the green of her eyes. She added some rouge and then a good dash of coral lipstick and then peered in the hand mirror at her slightly protruding teeth that had a gap in the middle. ‘I’m thinking of getting braces.’

‘Why?’

‘I just am. Come on, you need to bring me up to speed, I’ve lost track of all these Russians.’ Rachel snapped her fingers for information as she teased out the curls in her hair. ‘The groom is Sev, Daniil’s friend from the orphanage?’

‘Yes,’ Libby said. ‘Though it might be kinder not to refer to him as that.’

‘I can be tactful!’

‘Sometimes you can be.’ Libby smiled.

‘Tell me about the bride.’

‘Her name’s Naomi,’ Libby said. ‘She was his PA in New York but she’s actually from London.’

‘What’s she like?’

‘I only met her briefly, she was still his PA then. We were just on our honeymoon. Oh, Anya will be at the wedding too.’

‘Anya?’

‘Tatania.’ Libby gave Anya’s stage name and watched as Rachel let out a little squeal of delight. Anya too had been at the orphanage, though as the cook’s daughter. Now, she was prima ballerina in a Russian dance company and back in London performing Firebird. Rachel had seen her the last time the company was here and had been hoping to see her again before the production closed next week but it was proving impossible.

‘Do you think she can get me tickets?’ Rachel asked. ‘It’s completely sold out.’

‘She probably can but I doubt that she would—Anya’s not very friendly,’ Libby warned.

‘Oh, well, it’s worth a try. What about the other one?’ Rachel frowned as she tried to work it out. She knew, from what Libby had told her, that there had been four orphans but she struggled to keep up with their names. ‘Nikolai?’

‘No!’ Libby quickly said as she winced at the potential faux pas. ‘Nikolai’s the dead one. He killed himself when he was fourteen. He was being abused by his teacher.’

‘Oh.’

Rachel answered with her usual shallow response yet she saw her own rapid blink in the small hand mirror when she heard what had happened to Nikolai.

Yes, there were things she didn’t discuss, especially not on a wedding day with her anxious, pregnant friend.

Especially ever.

‘You’re talking about Roman,’ Libby said, ‘Daniil’s twin. He’s—’

Rachel turned as Libby broke off in mid-sentence and went silent.

‘Are you having another one?’ Rachel asked as they pulled up outside the church.

‘No.’ Libby shook her head. ‘Maybe,’ she admitted, as Rachel helped her out of the car. ‘God, Rachel, don’t let me make a scene. I can’t spoil the wedding.’

‘Oh, you shan’t. I’ll just throw a coat over you or something.’ Then she smiled. ‘You’ll be fine.’

The bells were ringing out and the press were taking photos of the arriving guests as they walked into the gorgeous old church. There were white roses everywhere and the organ was playing. Rachel followed Libby to a pew near the front and there was a buzz of anticipation all around.

Rachel loved weddings and this was going to be a good one, she was sure.

Daniil was dead sexy and the groom was too, Rachel thought, which hopefully meant half the congregation would be.

She turned and watched as a reed-thin, beautiful woman slipped into the pew behind them and then tapped Libby on the shoulder.

‘Libby.’

‘It’s lovely to see you, Anya.’ Libby smiled. ‘This is my friend Rachel...’

‘Anya!’ Rachel said, and her face was on fire, she knew, as she had an absolute fangirl moment. Rachel had been a huge fan of Tatania for years and had followed her career closely.

‘I think I must have seen you perform at least ten times...’ Rachel did a little count in her head. ‘Actually, twelve!’

‘Rachel’s not exaggerating,’ Libby added. ‘Any time you’re in London and she wasn’t performing herself she was watching you.’

‘I saw you in Paris when you played Lilac Fairy. I’m hoping to get to see Firebird again,’ Rachel said, but Anya shook her head.

‘We close next week.’

‘Yes, I know. I haven’t been able to get tickets,’ Rachel said, and let out a dramatic sigh, hoping, hoping that Anya would come to a fellow dancer’s rescue.

‘It sold out ages ago.’

Dismissed by Anya, Rachel turned and stared ahead. She could feel Libby trying not to laugh at Anya’s cool acceptance of Rachel’s desire to see her and her absolute shutdown with no offer of tickets!

‘Told you,’ Libby said.

‘You did.’ Rachel sighed.

As they waited for the bride to arrive Libby tried to chat about Rachel’s work, or lack of it.

‘You know that I’ve got a temporary teacher to fill in for me,’ Libby said, ‘but I’m always on the lookout—’

‘Libby,’ Rachel broke in. ‘I don’t want to teach.’

‘Then what will you do?’

‘I’m not sure.’

Her mother had asked her the same question last night with the addition of, ‘I warned you to have something to fall back on.’

Rachel had said nothing at the time but her jaw had gritted. Her mother hadn’t, Rachel was sure, meant another career. Evie Cary fell back onto men. Over and over. All had had money. Evie made sure that the men she dated would keep her in the style she’d like to become accustomed to.

There had been a parade of boyfriends and lovers. Some had lasted a weekend, some a few months. One for a couple of years.

He had walked out on her mother two weeks after Rachel had left home.

Surprise, surprise.

Rachel jerked her mind away from dark memories and tried to focus on the future.

She didn’t need someone or something to fall back on, she wanted to fall into her new life.

Money wasn’t too much of a problem in the short term.

She had worked too hard to spend much and could take some time to figure things out. She looked over at Libby and wondered whether to tell her her idea.

‘I was thinking of starting a blog.’

‘A blog?’ Libby said. ‘Why?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

The pews continued to fill, but to the right and not so much to the left, and it suddenly dawned on Rachel that, given the groom was an orphan...

Libby laughed again as Rachel’s shoulders sagged.

‘I thought the place would be teeming with sexy Russians,’ Rachel sighed.

‘Oh, well, there’s always André,’ Libby said.

‘No.’ Rachel shook her head as Libby spoke of Rachel’s long-term colleague and occasionally intimate friend. ‘Didn’t I tell you? He’s met someone and it’s serious.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’ Rachel nodded. ‘They’re getting married in a fortnight.’

‘How didn’t I hear this?’

‘It only just happened.’

‘Well, that’s one wedding you’ll be avoiding,’ Libby said.

Rachel didn’t comment and neither did she tell Libby that it was a wedding she couldn’t avoid. Instead, she looked through the order of service and deliberately tried not to think about André.

‘So who’s he marrying?’ Libby asked, and Rachel longed for Libby to have a sudden contraction, for the bride to arrive, for anything other than give the answer.

It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.

There was more.

Of course there was.

The Cary family had more skeletons in their closets than a graveyard.

‘Rachel?’ Libby pushed for her to answer the question but thankfully there was a stir in the congregation and Daniil said something to Sev in Russian in a shocked voice. At first Rachel assumed the bride had arrived so she turned around.

Oh, my.

Someone as good looking as this man should perhaps have known that he wouldn’t be able to slink into the church unseen.

Tall with dark wavy hair that was worn a touch too long, he caused a stir simply by walking in. Heads had turned.

‘Who,’ Rachael asked Libby, in a voice that had suddenly gone husky, ‘is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Libby said. ‘It might be...’ Her voice trailed off and Rachel watched as Libby frowned and looked over to the altar, where her husband and the groom stood. Rachel’s gaze followed.

Daniil looked stunned and Sev, the groom, who had been staring ahead, had turned around at Daniil’s instruction.

The shock on their faces was evident and Rachel watched as the two men broke with protocol and strode down the aisle towards this delicious stranger. Everyone was standing now, trying to get a better look. Rachel was on tiptoe, trying to make things out, but she couldn’t.

‘What’s happening?’ Rachel asked.

The only person not paying full attention was Libby.

‘I’m having another one,’ she moaned, and clutched at the pew.

‘They’re miles apart,’ Rachel said in an authoritative tone to keep Libby, who was rather neurotic, calm. Libby, like all dancers, was very body aware, which meant, of course, that every freckle was cancer, every abdominal cramp in advanced pregnancy was labour...

Yikes!

Rachel was starting to stress herself, not that Libby would ever know it.

‘The bride’s just arrived.’ Rachel kept up a running commentary as Libby breathed through the pain. Now that Naomi was here, Rachel assumed that normal services would resume but, no, the groom had brought his bride-to-be over and was now introducing her to this mystery guest.

It was all rather fascinating, Rachel thought, and a brilliant start to the wedding, especially as the bride and groom were sharing a passionate kiss, but at the wrong end of the church.

‘Sev’s getting off with the bride,’ Rachel said. ‘And I think...’

And then she was silent because Daniil had brought the delicious stranger to sit with them.

He was so tall and broad that as he moved into the pew, Libby, who wanted to keep her place near the edge in case she needed a speedy exit, had to shrink back to let him past.

Rachel did the same and got the deep woody trace of his scent as he took his place beside her.

Oh, my!

He must be Roman, Rachel thought.

But, no, that wasn’t right. This guy was tall and dark but he didn’t look like Daniil, and weren’t he and Roman supposed to be identical twins?

She really couldn’t keep up.

‘Libby,’ Daniil said, as the vicar called for order and for the groom to release the bride from his embrace so they could get the service under way. ‘This is Nikolai, he’ll sit with you.’

Now things really were getting confusing, Rachel thought.

‘Don’t let him leave,’ Daniil added, and Rachel suppressed a smile.

Oh, she happily wouldn’t let him out of her sight.

Everyone stood as Sev and Naomi walked down the aisle hand in hand and Rachel frowned as she tried to work it out.

She turned and looked up at the man next to her.

He had black wavy hair and dark velvet brown eyes that did not turn at the awareness of her curiosity.

And Libby was right again—Rachel could be rather tactless at times.

‘Sorry.’ Rachel frowned as she peered at him and then gave a small shake of her head. ‘But now I’m really confused. Aren’t you the dead one?’