Читать книгу The Cost Of The Forbidden - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 9
ОглавлениеTHE VIEW WAS just as impressive on Sev’s part of the planet.
Not that he saw much of it.
He wore dark glasses and the tinted windows of the hotel’s black Mercedes blocked out the midday sun as he called Naomi while being driven to his plane.
Sev looked out briefly at the sights of Rome as he was driven through the busy streets. He’d possibly get there quicker if he jumped on a moped but, though cross with himself for sleeping in and thus being so late for Allem, he wasn’t about to go to such extremes.
Instead he had pulled out his phone and decided that Naomi would just have to fix things.
She wasn’t best pleased with him but a moody PA he did not need so he snapped off the phone, relieved as his car pulled onto the tarmac near his waiting plane. What the hell had possessed him to call out his crew on a Saturday night to fly here when now he couldn’t even remember her name?
It wasn’t as if it was for sex that he’d gone to such extremes. Sex had been taken care of long before they’d boarded.
And it hadn’t been about conversation—he wasn’t particularly fluent in Italian.
Sev wasn’t feeling very good about another reckless night and he certainly didn’t need Reverend Sister Naomi’s silent tsk tsk of disapproval.
Shannon, his flight attendant, greeted him and knew him well enough to wait and ask how he wanted his coffee before making it.
It varied.
‘Long and black,’ Sev said, taking off his jacket. ‘With one sugar.’ He took a seat but by the time he had Sev had already changed his mind and called Shannon back.
‘A strong latte, two sugars.’
Maybe the milk would help his stomach but Sev knew he was, thanks to Naomi, suffering from a rare spasm of guilt.
He liked Allem and his wife and knew that they were in New York primarily to catch up with him as, thanks to the excuse of work commitments, Sev had declined their last two invitations to visit them in Dubai.
It had been Allem who had given him his first break.
Sev’s past should mean he lived on the streets but he never had.
His grades at school had been outstanding and had meant he had received a scholarship to a very good school and then an internship.
It had been cell phones that Sev had been into then and he had come up with the design that Allem had run with.
Yes, Sev’s cynical voice reminded him, that design had meant that Allem had made an absolute fortune out of his idea.
Yet Allem had then bankrolled Sev, allowing him to delve deeply into the cyber world. Now his genius sat in a range of one step behind or two steps ahead of the bad boys. This meant his services were in expensive demand from governments to law enforcement, airlines, royalty and show business. Sev fought his virtual enemies with talent and respect.
It was an endless, relentless game and one, more often than not, he won.
His success wasn’t down to Allem—he owed him nothing, Sev thought, draining his coffee, as Jason, the captain, spoke and told him he was hoping to catch a tail wind and they should arrive just before three.
Shannon came to take his cup and any moment now they’d be on their way.
‘Do you want me to fix lunch after take-off?’ she offered, but Sev shook his head.
‘I don’t want anything to eat, I’m just going to go to bed. Don’t wake me unless the plane is going down,’ Sev said. ‘Actually, don’t wake me even if it is.’
He opened up his book, the one he always read during take-off, but not even that could distract him today.
Sev avoided friendships, he avoided getting close to anyone, yet Allem insisted on sticking around.
As soon as he was able to he made his way to the bedroom.
He stripped, had a quick shower and then got into bed but sleep eluded him.
That needle of guilt was still there so he called Naomi again.
‘I can’t sleep,’ Sev admitted.
‘Where are you now?’
‘An hour out of Rome. Have you spoken to Allem?’
‘Not yet. I’ve sent an email telling him that you’ve been delayed,’ Naomi said. ‘I’ll call him closer to nine when I’ve worked out a reason why.’
There was a slightly tart edge to her voice.
‘Go into my bureau,’ Sev said. He had actually bought a gift for Jamal and Allem. ‘There should be a polished box there you could wrap for me. You could give it to him as a little sweetener until I arrive.’
‘Okay.’
‘Is it there?’ Sev asked, wondering if he might have left it in his apartment.
‘I’ll look when I get to the office.’
‘You’re not in yet?’
‘No,’ Naomi said. ‘Caught.’
‘Caught what?’
‘Having a lie-in.’ Naomi said, but then hurriedly added, ‘I’m up now, though.’
‘Liar.’
‘You trained me well,’ Naomi responded. They were both in bed and both knew it.
‘Go up to my apartment before you head into work. It might be in my desk there. If not, then it’s in the bureau at work. It’s got a statue in it.’
‘Okay. So what lie do you want me to feed Allem?’
But Sev’s mind was on other things.
Yes, he’d been feeling bad about Allem but knowing that Naomi was in bed, hopefully as naked as he, was, well, a bit of a turn-on.
She drove him crazy.
He could not read her.
It was like a weather report telling you it was sultry and hot and then stepping out to sleet and ice.
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘No,’ Naomi answered. ‘About Allem. What am I to tell him?’
Oh, that was right. The reason for his call.
‘Just tell him there was a family emergency that I had to attend to. He’s big on family. Tell him that my mother was taken ill and I’m on my way back from Russia.’
‘Sev, is your mother alive?’
‘Yes?’
‘Is she sick?’
‘She could be.’
He heard a slight noise as she sucked in her breath. ‘You don’t like the idea.’
‘It’s not for me to judge...’
‘Oh, but, baby, you do,’ Sev snapped. ‘Over and over you do. And do you know what? I don’t need it. I’m warning you—’
‘Officially?’ Naomi checked, more than happy for him to fire her now, even the dark rise of his voice turned her on.
‘Unofficially,’ Sev said.
God, but he even liked rowing with her.
Sev didn’t row. Usually he simply couldn’t be bothered to.
They both lay in tense angry silence but neither ended the call and then Sev said it again but his voice wasn’t angry now.
‘Can I ask you something?’ No, he wasn’t angry. His voice had that low edge to it that had her pull up her knees.
‘Go ahead.’ Naomi sighed.
‘It’s personal.’
She had guessed that it might be.
‘I’m just curious about something.’
Somehow he didn’t offend her.
Naomi was curious about him too.
She just lay there naked in bed, trying to imagine how that low voice might sound while making love to her, and she was terribly, terribly tempted to find out.
To just finally give in to the suggestive air they created.
‘Ask away.’
‘Well, I’m assuming, if you’re engaged, that you must love your fiancé.’
She didn’t answer.
‘And fancy him.’
Naomi said nothing.
‘So how do you...?’
‘How do I what, Sev?’
‘You’ve been in New York for three months and in that time I can’t recall him coming over to see you.’
‘He hasn’t.’
‘So,’ Sev asked, ‘how do you manage?’
Manage!
Oh, it was as basic as that to Sev, Naomi thought. An itch to be scratched, a line on his to-do list to be regularly ticked off.
‘Sev,’ Naomi crisply replied, when she would far rather dive under the covers and prolong the call, ‘I’m giving you an official warning now.’
She hung up on him. Sev tossed the phone down in frustration.
Bloody Naomi, Sev thought as he lay there. He was hard for her and had been left hanging. And then he remembered why he’d come to Rome.
She had been brunette.
It was as simple and as messed up as that.
He was over Naomi and her moods.
Sev didn’t need some sanctimonious PA sitting on her moral throne. She was there to run his life, not have him account for it.
Who cared what she thought?
He cared about no one.
Only that wasn’t quite right.
God, but he hated this month already.
Sev hated November.
He always had and he always would.
In Russia it was Mother’s Day at the end of November.
At school, the ‘home kids’, as he and his friends had called the students who’d had families, would sit and make cards for their mothers as the ‘detsky dom’ kids stuck rice onto paper for, well, no one in particular.
There had been four at his table, they had been together since nursery school.
Sevastyan had always been the nerdy one, Nikolai had liked ships and then there had been the twins, Roman and Daniil, who were going to be famous boxers one day.
Some day.
Never.
‘If you don’t have a mother then make a card for someone you care about,’ the teacher had suggested each year.
The ‘detsky dom’ kids’ cards had never got made.
A few years back Sevastyan had found out that he did have a mother, but he now knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated a card with stuck-on rice anyway.
He’d send flowers, of course, but rather than rely on Naomi he would try to work out himself what to put in the note.
Each year it became harder to work out what to write.
Thanks for being there?
She hadn’t been.
With love to you on this special day?
It wasn’t a special day to her.
And there was no love.
November also meant that it was his niece’s birthday.
Her eighteenth! Sev suddenly remembered.
He’d stop at Tiffany on the way to the office Sev thought, then decided not to bother.
Whatever he sent would just end up being pawned or put up on some auction site.
Yes, for so many reasons he hated November.
Sev closed his eyes but he still could not sleep.
He stared into the dark and could remember as if it were yesterday, rather than half a lifetime ago, hearing his friend quietly crying in the night.
These had been boys who had stopped crying from the cradle and so Sev had not known whether his friend would appreciate that he knew that he was.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sev had asked. ‘Nikolai, what has happened?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t sound like nothing.’
‘Leave it.’
He had.
To Sev’s utter, utter regret, he had.
In the morning Nikolai had been gone.
A week later his body had washed up and Sergio had come back with his bag, in it a ship Nikolai had been making out of matches.
Sev lay there and thought of his friend and his sad end.
And the thought of the others he still missed to this day.
On the twelfth of November, the day Nikolai had run away, Sev would be in London for yet another futile attempt to meet with his past.
He might give it a miss, Sev thought, but he was as superstitious as he was Russian.
If he didn’t go, of course it would be the one year that Daniil showed up.
