Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence

by Chantelle Shaw

The London streets were buzzing when they left the restaurant, the pavements crowded with people and the roads jammed with traffic, car headlights and street-lights illuminating the night sky. Vadim slid a protective arm around Ella’s waist as she was jostled by a group of young men who had piled out of a bar. ‘Do you want me to take you home, or would you like to go on to a club?’

  His hard body was pressed against hers, making her acutely aware of the muscular strength of his thighs, and she could feel the heat that emanated from him and smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne mingled with another perfume that was innately male. Her common sense insisted that she should ask him to take her home, where she would bid him a polite goodnight and make it clear that she did not want to see him again. But for the first time in her life she felt like rebelling against the constraints of her life, which suddenly seemed to be one long round of practising and performing, leaving her little opportunity to socialise. She usually went to bed after the ten o’clock news—but she was twenty-four, for heaven’s sake, she reminded herself impatiently, and it was time she lived a little.

  ‘A club might be fun,’ she murmured, and was rewarded with a sensual smile that sent a quiver of awareness down her spine.

  ‘I’m a member of Annabel’s in Berkeley Square. It’s not far from here. Are you happy to walk?’ As he spoke, Vadim curled his big hand around her smaller one, the faint abrasion of his skin against the softness of her palm so incredibly sensual that Ella simply nodded and fell into step beside him, her heart thudding in time with the tap of her stiletto heels on the pavement.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ANNABEL’S nightclub was a popular haunt of the rich and famous, and Ella spotted numerous celebrities on the dance floor, but she noticed that guests and staff alike seemed slightly in awe of Vadim. Once again she was aware of his power and his magnetic attraction, which drew beautiful women to him in droves. He could take his pick from any of the number of models and socialites in the bar, many of whom brazenly tried to catch his attention. They were uniformly exquisite, with long, tanned limbs, perfect figures and flawless features, and Ella couldn’t help comparing herself with them and wondering why on earth he was interested in her.

  But Vadim seemed to only have eyes for her. She could not help but find his attention flattering, and as the night progressed and the champagne flowed she began to relax and enjoy herself. Dancing to the funky club classics was fun, and dancing with Vadim, held close against his chest while he moved his pelvis sinuously against hers, sent molten heat coursing through her veins.

  ‘Enjoying yourself?’ he drawled, his blue eyes gleaming as he glanced down at her flushed face. The music had slowed and they were drifting around the dance floor, hip to hip, while his hand strayed up and down her spine in a sensuous caress.

  ‘Yes,’ Ella admitted honestly. There seemed no point in denying it when she felt more alive and exhilarated than she could ever remember feeling.

  ‘Good.’ Vadim lowered his head slowly towards her, and she could not restrain a little shiver of excitement when he slanted his mouth over hers and initiated a slow, drugging kiss. His lips were firm, demanding her response, and she gave it helplessly, her whole body trembling when he slid his tongue into her mouth and explored her moist warmth with devastating efficiency until she sagged against him, so lost in this new world of sensory pleasure that the people around them on the dance floor faded, and there was no one but Vadim.

  It was three a.m. when they finally left the club, and as they stepped outside the blast of fresh air made Ella’s head spin.

  ‘This isn’t your car,’ she mumbled, when a sleek black limousine pulled up next to them and its chauffeur sprang out to open the rear door.

  ‘I never drive after I’ve had a couple of drinks. I arranged for my driver to take the Aston Martin back to my hotel and come back to collect us in the limo.’ Vadim frowned as he watched Ella wobble precariously on her high heels. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Of course I’m okay. Why shouldn’t I be?’ She bent to climb into the car, misjudged the height of the door fame and winced as she hit her head. ‘I’ve never felt better,’ she assured him brightly. It was true; several glasses of champagne had replaced her usual reserve with brimming confidence, and she felt sexy and uninhibited and desperate for Vadim to kiss her again. She stared at him hopefully and instinctively traced her lips with the tip of her tongue, anticipation shivering through her when his eyes narrowed and gleamed with feral hunger.

  But it was warm in the car, and the smooth motion of the engine had a soporific effect on her, so that her eyelids felt heavy and her head drooped onto Vadim’s shoulder. She looked about sixteen, he brooded impatiently. Tendrils of hair had escaped her chignon, and he carefully released the clip on top of her head so that the silky mass tumbled around her shoulders.

  The type of woman he usually dated would have spent the journey home stroking her hand over his thigh as a prelude to a night of mutually satisfying sex—not snuggling up to him like a sleepy kitten. There was something about Ella that tugged at his conscience, and not for the first time he wondered if he had made a mistake by pursuing her—especially since he had discovered that she carried a truckload of emotional baggage which seemed to be linked with her unhappy relationship with her father.

  Emotions were complicated, which was why he did not deal in them. He had failed Irina and broken her heart, and he refused to ever be responsible for another woman’s emotional security.

  Ella frowned when the comfortable pillow beneath her neck moved, so that her head lolled unsupported. Someone gripped her shoulder and shook her, and an impatient voice sounded in her ear. ‘Ella, wake up. We’re back at Kingfisher House.’

  Her heavy lids lifted and she stared into Vadim’s startling blue eyes. His face was inches from hers, his mouth so tantalisingly close that she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue in unconscious invitation.

  Hot sexual excitement uncoiled in Vadim’s gut, and for a few seconds he was tempted to ignore the nagging voice of his conscience, which warned that Ella seemed far more innocent than he had first thought. She was a consenting adult, and she wanted him, the voice in his head argued. Her grey eyes were smoky with desire, and her soft parted lips were just begging for him to possess them. But she’d had a couple of glasses of champagne on top of the wine and cocktails they had drunk with dinner, and he was sure she was not used to drinking alcohol. He had done many things in his past which he regretted, and he refused to add taking advantage of a naïve girl who reminded him too much of his dead wife to the list.

  ‘Come on, I’ll see you inside,’ he said abruptly, when she scrambled inelegantly out of the car and stood beside him on the gravel drive, swaying slightly.

  Ella gave a puzzled frown when Vadim took hold of her arm and marched her up to the house. A moment ago she had been sure that he was about to kiss her, and she had been surprised and disappointed when he had abruptly pulled back and leapt out of the car. Maybe he had been conscious of the presence of the chauffeur and wanted to be alone with her when he kissed her? She cast a sideways glance at his handsome face and a frisson of excitement tingled down her spine as she imagined him slanting his sensual mouth over hers. Would he stop at kissing, or was he intending to sweep her into his arms, carry her through to her bedroom and make love to her?

  She fumbled in her bag for her key, opened the front door and turned back to face him, heart thudding painfully beneath her ribs. His sensual smile stole her breath, and she felt as taut as an overstrung bow as she waited for him to take her in his arms.

  ‘Goodnight, Ella.’

  Goodnight! She stared at him in confusion as he stepped back from her. When they had left the nightclub the hungry gleam in his eyes had convinced her that he wanted to take their relationship a step further. He intrigued her in a way no other man ever had, and on the journey back to Kingfisher House she had made the decision that she was ready to explore the sexual chemistry that simmered between them.<
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  But Vadim was leaving! Perhaps he was waiting for a sign from her that she would not reject him if he kissed her? He had turned away from her and was walking towards his waiting car. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, ‘Would you like to come in…for coffee?’

  He paused and slowly turned back to face her, his intent stare causing hot colour to stain her cheeks. Seconds ticked past, stretching her nerves, but then he gave a shrug and strolled back up the drive. The moonlight slanted across his face, throwing his sculpted features into sharp relief. He was so incredibly handsome, and so intensely male, Ella thought as she inhaled the exotic scent of his cologne mingled with the subtle perfume of pheromones that inflamed her senses. He rejoined her on the doorstep, and the heat emanating from his muscular body caused a curious melting sensation deep in her pelvis. She had never been so sexually aware of a man in her life, and acting purely on instinct she swayed towards him, lifted her face to his.

  He muttered something in Russian, but Ella was too distracted by her longing to feel his mouth on hers to wonder what the words meant. Her heart slammed against her ribs when he lowered his dark head and brushed his lips over hers in a delicate tasting that left her quivering for more. Lost to everything but his sensual sorcery, she opened her mouth for him to deepen the kiss, and felt a jolt of pleasure when he slid his tongue deep into her moist warmth and initiated an intimate exploration that escalated her excitement to fever-pitch.

  She could not resist him, nor the dictates of her body, which was eager to experience this new world of sensory pleasure. With a soft sigh she slid her arms up to his shoulders so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. She was impatient for him to curve his arms around her waist and draw her closer still, but to her utter shock he suddenly ended the kiss and caught hold of her hands to prevent her from linking them around his neck.

  ‘Thanks for the invitation,’ he drawled, ‘but I have to get back.’

  Still trembling with sexual anticipation, Ella could not disguise her disappointment. ‘But I thought…’ She trailed to a halt and snatched her fingers out of his grasp, her cheeks burning when she realised that Vadim was not about to carry her into the house and seduce her. She had practically leapt on him, she thought sickly. She had instigated the kiss, and from his mocking smile he was clearly amused by her eagerness.

  Something flared in his eyes when she jerked away from him.

  ‘It’s debatable who you’re going to hate most tomorrow, angel face—yourself, or me,’ he said gently. He turned and strode back to his car without a backward glance, and with a yelp of fury at her own stupidity Ella shot into the house and slammed the door behind her.

  Ella opened her eyes to find bright sunshine streaming into her room, and when she glanced at the clock she was shocked to discover that it was almost midday. Her head felt woolly, but, like a theatre curtain slowly opening, the mist in her brain cleared and her memory returned with a vengeance. Last night she’d had dinner with Vadim and he had fed her caviar. Afterwards they had visited a club and danced until the early hours before he had brought her home, whereupon she had practically begged him to spend the night with her—and he had rejected her!

  Utterly mortified, she rolled onto her stomach and dragged the pillow over her head. What had she been thinking? she asked herself furiously. But of course she hadn’t been thinking—not properly—and her actions had been fuelled by too much champagne. That must have been the case—because why else would she have decided that she could handle an affair with Vadim, when she knew he was a playboy and the sort of man she usually avoided like the plague?

  She would never be able to face him again, she thought miserably, her face burning with shame when she recalled how she had leaned close to him when they had stood on the doorstep, made it clear that she wanted him to kiss her. Had he found her eagerness off-putting? Maybe he had been playing a game, which he’d won once she had shown her willingness to sleep with him? The idea made her feel sick, and she hauled herself out of bed and staggered into her small kitchen to discover that she had run out of milk and teabags.

  Several glasses of water and a shower later she felt marginally better—physically, at least. But the recriminations and self-disgust continued, and, desperate to get out of the house, she pulled on jeans and a tee shirt, flung open the French doors and stepped outside. The garden was a blaze of colour, the emerald lawn bordered by flowers in a variety of brilliant shades, but it was the sight of Vadim—sitting at the garden table further along the terrace—that stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘What…what are you doing here?’ she croaked, so taken aback by his appearance that she could barely articulate the words. Her shock at seeing him, after she had hoped that they would never meet again, had turned her legs to jelly, and she dropped weakly onto a chair opposite him. It didn’t help that he looked utterly gorgeous, in sun-bleached jeans and a black polo shirt open at the throat to reveal a glimpse of bronzed skin overlaid with dark chest hair. Unlike her, he was clearly not suffering any adverse effects from the champagne they had drunk at the club last night, she noted darkly. He looked completely relaxed as he leisurely perused the Sunday papers, while the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee rose from the jug in front of him.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ he drawled, glancing pointedly at his watch. ‘I take it you slept well.’

  ‘I don’t understand why—or how—you’re here,’ Ella muttered, wishing he would remove his designer shades so that she could see the expression in his eyes. A high-pitched voice drew her attention down the garden, and her surreal feeling intensified when she watched her cousin’s young daughter, Lily, run across the lawn.

  ‘Ella! We came to see you, but you were asleep,’ the little girl greeted her. ‘Grandpa said we’d better not wake you up.’

  ‘Yes, I had a bit of a lie-in this morning,’ Ella said weakly, flushing when she caught Vadim’s amused glance. She hugged Lily. ‘Is Grandpa here?’

  ‘He’s there.’ Lily pointed, and Ella looked round to see her uncle Rex, walking across the lawn towards them.

  ‘There you are, Ella.’ Rex Portman studied his niece’s pale face and chuckled. ‘Been partying, have you? Good for you. I’ve always said you spend too much time locked away with your violin. Girls of your age should be out having fun.’ His eyes moved from Ella to Vadim and back again, ‘I take it you’ve introduced yourself? I phoned a couple of times earlier, to let you know Vadim was taking over the tenancy of Kingfisher House today, but you must have been out for the count. I don’t suppose you even heard the delivery van arrive, or the army of staff Vadim hired to carry his things into the house—did you?’

  ‘I…’ Ella made a strangled sound and decided she had obviously been transported into the world of Alice in Wonderland. She wouldn’t be surprised if an oversized white rabbit suddenly appeared and they all had a tea party.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ her uncle said jovially. ‘I’ve explained to Vadim that you currently live in the caretaker flat, and he’s happy for the situation to continue—at least for the next couple of months.’

  ‘Yes indeed.’ Vadim’s gravelly Russian accent was deep and melodious compared to Uncle Rex’s chirpy, good-humoured voice. ‘I frequently travel abroad for business, and it suits me that the house will not be completely empty while I’m away.’ His smile oozed charm, but for once Ella was immune to it and clenched her fists beneath the table. ‘Until I decide whether or not to buy Kingfisher House I won’t be employing any live-in staff, so you are welcome to remain in the staff accommodation,’ he said smoothly. He paused, and then added softly, ‘I understand you need to find a flat big enough to house a grand piano?’

  ‘That piano’s a liability, if you ask me,’ Uncle Rex said before Ella could comment. ‘Monstrous thing it is. You might have to think about selling it, Ella.’

  She shook her head fiercely. ‘Mama’s piano is one of the few mementos I have of her. I’ll never sell it.’

  Her uncle grima
ced. ‘Well, thanks to Vadim’s generosity, you won’t have to for now.’

  The words on Ella’s tongue, which had been queuing up to tell Vadim in no uncertain terms what he could do with his offer for her to remain at Kingfisher House, juddered to a halt. Her eyes flew to his face, and she was certain that behind his concealing shades his eyes were glinting with satisfaction that he had her right where he wanted her. Nothing would induce her to sell her mother’s piano, and even if she spent every spare moment searching for a flat it would be weeks before she found somewhere suitable, she acknowledged grimly.

  ‘Grandpa, I want to see the water,’ Lily piped up. She darted, quick as an eel, across the lawn, and Uncle Rex hurried after her.

  ‘Hang on a minute. Don’t you go too close to the river, young lady.’

  Ella watched them go, and then turned angrily to Vadim. ‘Is this your peculiar idea of a joke?’ She snatched a breath and rushed on, without giving him a chance to reply. ‘I can’t believe you had the gall to engineer this.’

  Dark brows rose quizzically. ‘Engineer what, specifically?’

  ‘You taking over the tenancy of Kingfisher House,’ she said fiercely. ‘Don’t tell me it wasn’t planned. I suppose you decided to rent the house after you found out that I live here.’

  ‘Actually, there was no Machiavellian plot,’ he said mildly. ‘I’ve known Rex Portman for some time, and my company has bought several properties with development potential through his estate agency. When he heard I was looking for a base in the UK he showed me around Kingfisher House, and I immediately decided to rent it for six months.’ Okay, that was stretching the truth, Vadim conceded silently, but he saw no reason to admit to Ella that he had originally decided to move into a house in Belgravia, but had changed his mind the night he had driven her home after the concert at Amesbury House.

  Ella blushed as she recalled how he had rejected her the previous night. Of course he had not plotted to share the house with her, she told herself impatiently. But during their dinner date she had been so sure that he desired her, and when they had danced together at Annabel’s she had felt the hard proof of his arousal nudge insistently against her pelvis. Had she read the signs wrongly? Or had Vadim for some reason had a change of heart on the drive back to Kingfisher House and decided that he no longer wanted to explore the sexual chemistry between them? His face was shuttered, giving no clue to his thoughts. He was an enigma, and once again she had the feeling that there were secrets in his past she knew nothing about.