If she had been with him they would have explored Prague together. She loved history, and would have been fascinated by the castle, and the beautiful Basilica of St George. Maybe they would have taken a boat trip down the River Vltava, and then eaten in one of the charming little restaurants in the Old Town before returning to their hotel to make love with a passion that touched his soul.
He missed her, he acknowledged, feeling the ache in his chest grow and expand until it seemed to encompass his whole body. He wanted to be with her. The thought drummed through his veins, and suddenly it seemed as if a curtain had lifted in his mind and he saw what a blind fool he had been.
During the weeks they had spent together in Antibes he had refused to admit that he was falling in love with her. He had been afraid of the emotions she stirred in him, and determined to fight his feelings. But now it hit him that what he really had to fear was a life without Ella. His heart was beating too fast, and his skin felt clammy as the emotions he had tried so hard to deny surged through him with the unstoppable force of a tidal wave. Prague looked beautiful in the sunshine, but he turned his back on the city and strode back into the hotel, to inform the receptionist that he was curtailing his visit.
In the taxi to the airport he phoned his PA and asked her to postpone the meeting, and then he called his chief executive and ordered him to catch the next flight to Prague. The delay meant there was a danger they would lose the deal, but for the first time in his life he had something he cared about more than business—his one thought was to get back to the Villa Corraline as quickly as possible.
He should not have left Ella alone. Especially when she was in a state of shock after finding out that she was pregnant. He believed now that she had not known she was expecting his baby. Unlike many women he had met she was not a clever actress, and the expression of stunned disbelief on her face when the doctor had given her the news had been real. He could not believe he had made that crass accusation that she had planned to get rid of the baby. The Ella he had come to know was simply not capable of such an action. But, having accepted that fact, he also had to accept that she had announced she was going back to London because she wanted to end their relationship.
Guilt clawed in his gut when he recalled their last explosive confrontation. They both wanted their child, but instead of having a rational discussion about how best they could bring up the baby he had threatened her with a custody battle. No wonder he had glimpsed real fear in her eyes. In her mind he must seem as much of a bully as her father had been—that same father who, when she was a child, had locked her in the tower room of the family mansion, knowing that she was terrified the place was haunted.
He could not blame her if she refused to have anything more to do with him, he thought bleakly, cursing the traffic that clogged the roads leading to the airport. He could only pray that she would give him another chance and allow him to explain just what she meant to him.
Silver moonlight danced across the waves which gently lapped the shore. The beach was silent, the air warm and still, and the fine white sand felt soft beneath Ella’s feet as she strolled along by the water’s edge.
For the first time since she had learned that she was pregnant with Vadim’s baby a sense of calm had settled over her, and she knew that her decision to remain in France and wait for him had been the right one. She had been in the taxi, on the way to the airport, when she had come to her senses and accepted that running away was not the answer. She couldn’t live as a fugitive for the rest of her life, and, more importantly, she accepted that she could not deny Vadim his child.
Back at the villa she had tried to remain calm, and for the baby’s sake had forced herself to eat something. But tonight sleep had proved impossible, and after tossing restlessly in the big lonely bed for over an hour she had finally got up, slipped on her grey silk robe and walked down to the beach.
She missed Vadim, she acknowledged as she stared up at the crescent moon and the stars that studded the sky like diamonds on a velvet backdrop. Apart from the few days when she had been in Paris, this was the first night they had spent apart since they had become lovers. It was such a short time, really, yet her life seemed to have been entwined with his for ever, and she could not imagine living without him.
Now that she was over the shock of discovering that she was pregnant, she was able to think rationally again. Vadim’s threat to fight for custody of their child was understandable when she knew that he still grieved for the daughter he had lost. But she was certain he would never force her to hand over her baby.
It all came down to trust, she mused as she turned to walk back towards the house. Her father had been a cruel man, who had delighted in hurting her and her mother, but Vadim was nothing like him. She could not deny him his chance to be a father again, and when he returned from Prague she would tell him that she accepted his proposal to share Kingfisher House, so that they could bring up the baby together. It would not be easy, living close to him yet being shut out of his life. But she loved him so much that she was prepared to sacrifice her happiness for his.
Lost in her thoughts, she gave a start when she heard her name being called across the dark beach. Vadim was calling her. But Vadim was in Prague. She gave herself a mental shake, convinced that she had imagined his voice. Loving him was turning her into a madwoman, she thought ruefully.
‘Ella…’
A figure came running out of the shadows, tearing across the sand towards her. ‘Vadim?’ Even from a distance she sensed his urgency, and without thinking of anything but her need to be with him she began to run too.
He reached her and swept her into his arms, crushing her against his chest so that the breath was driven from her body. The expression on his face was tortured, his brilliant blue eyes blazing with an emotion that made her heart miss a beat. She could not imagine why he was there, and she stared up at him in confusion when she felt a shudder run through his big body. What could have happened to cause him to look so shattered?
‘I thought you had gone—that I had driven you away…’ His voice was muffled against her throat, and her heart turned over when she felt wetness against her skin.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked shakily. ‘Why aren’t you in Prague, finalising your deal?’
‘I suddenly realised what was truly important to me.’ His Russian accent was very pronounced, his voice as deep and haunting as the notes of a cello. ‘I thought I had terrified the life out of you with my unforgivable threat to fight you for custody of the baby. I was sure you had decided to leave me, and when I arrived at the villa and saw your violin was missing I knew I had been the biggest fool on the planet.’
The expression blazing in his eyes made Ella tremble, but she was afraid that her mind was playing tricks, seeing what it wanted to see. ‘I had planned to leave,’ she admitted, ‘but halfway to Nice I realised that I couldn’t go. Our baby needs both its parents,’ she said huskily.
Vadim closed his eyes briefly and sent up a silent prayer. His heart was slamming beneath his ribs as he tightened his arms around Ella and pressed his lips to her brow, utterly undone by the emotions storming through him. ‘When I walked into the empty house I was afraid that I had left it too late to tell you—’ He broke off, his throat convulsing, and Ella stroked a trembling hand over his face.
‘Tell me what?’ she whispered.
Her hair smelled of lemons. He would carry the evocative scent to his grave—a tangible reminder of the woman who had stolen his heart. Taking a deep breath, he stared down into her smoke-soft eyes. ‘That I love you,’ he said unsteadily. ‘With all my heart and everything I am, angel moy.’ He gave a faint smile at her stunned expression. ‘You are my world, Ella, and I am nothing without you.’
‘Vadim…’ Tears blurred her eyes and she placed a trembling finger across his lips, no thought in her head to hold back the words she had wanted to say for so long. ‘I love you too—desperately—and I will do so for ever,’ she added fiercely, realising fr
om his stunned expression that he needed convincing of the depth of her love for him.
‘Then why did you say that living at Kingfisher House with me would be unbearable?’ he demanded raggedly.
She blushed. ‘Because I knew that I loved you, and I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing the house but not your life.’
‘I only said I would fight you for the baby because I hated the idea of you living away from me and having other relationships,’ Vadim admitted, tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair and tipping her face to his. ‘I refused to admit how much you meant to me until I went to Prague and it finally hit me how goddamned miserable I was without you.’
His tension suddenly eased, and he stared down at her, his blue eyes blazing with such tenderness, such love, that tears blurred Ella’s vision.
‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Ella,’ he said softly. ‘Will you marry me, my angel?’
He felt her tremble, and mistook her joy for apprehension. ‘I know you have bad memories of your parents’ marriage, but I would never do anything to hurt you. I intend to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, and the baby, and any other children we might have.’
Ella’s heart turned over at the urgency in his voice. ‘I think we’d better concentrate on one baby at a time,’ she teased gently. She hesitated, and then said huskily, ‘I thought you had buried your heart with Irina.’
Vadim shook his head. ‘I loved her, but I’m ashamed to say that I took her for granted. I was ambitious, and often I was so busy chasing deals that I put her second to my business. When I met you, you dominated my thoughts from the start—and I knew I was in trouble when I realised I would rather spend time with you than at work. I thought I could have an affair with you and then dismiss you from my life, but deep down I think I always recognised that you are the other half of my soul, angel moy, and I will love you until I die.’
He cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her lips in an evocative kiss that made her feel as though fireworks were exploding inside her. ‘I was determined not to fall in love with you,’ she whispered. ‘But I couldn’t resist you. And eventually I was forced to admit that I didn’t want to run from you, but to you. You are my life, my love…’
‘My wife?’ he queried gently.
‘Yes.’ Another tear trickled down her face and he caught it with his mouth, so that she tasted the salt on his lips when he kissed her again, this time with a sensual passion that sent fire coursing through her veins. He was the love of her life, and she told him so when he parted her silvery robe and it whispered to the ground. She stood before him, pale and ethereal in the moonlight. She told him again when he kissed her mouth and throat and breasts, catching her breath when he caressed each dusky nipple with his tongue before he knelt to press hungry kisses over her flat stomach, where their baby lay, and down to the cluster of gold curls between her thighs.
The sensation of his wickedly inventive tongue probing her slick wetness made her cry out, and she curled her fingers into his thick black hair as the intimate caress sent her close to the edge. He stripped out of his clothes with an uncharacteristic lack of grace that made her love him more, and then he spread her on the sand and moved over her, his brilliant blue eyes locked with hers as he entered her and made them one.
‘I thought it was just good sex,’ she said shyly, her eyes widening until they reflected the silvery gleam of the moon as he set a rhythm that drove them both higher.
‘It was never just sex with you, angel,’ he groaned, feeling the first delicious spasms of her orgasm close around him. ‘Every time I made love to you it was with my heart as well as my body—I just didn’t want to admit that you had such a hold on me.’
He moved inside her, and suddenly there was no need for words when their bodies could express the deep and abiding love they felt for each other. It was a love that would last a lifetime and beyond, Vadim vowed, and was finally able to translate the Russian words he had whispered to her every time they had made love, so that she was in no doubt as to how much she meant to him.
EPILOGUE
THEY were married a month later, in a simple but moving ceremony in the grounds of the Villa Corraline. Vadim’s close friend Sergey Tarasov acted as best man, and Jenny flew over to be Ella’s maid of honour. At the reception, Lena Tarasov commented that she had always suspected Vadim had fallen for Ella like a ton of bricks, and the love that blazed in Vadim’s eyes when he looked at his new wife supported her theory.
They returned to London so that Ella could continue to play with the RLO, but, much to Marcus Benning’s disappointment, she announced that she no longer intended to pursue a solo career now that she was going to be a mother.
Their baby daughter was born the following spring, when the cherry blossom trees in the garden at Kingfisher House were in full bloom. They named her Odette, because in the womb she had kicked hardest every time Ella played Tchaikovsky’s score from Swan Lake, and from birth she was instantly pacified by the sound of the violin.
‘Perhaps she’ll grow up to be a famous virtuoso,’ Ella mused one evening as Vadim cradled his newborn daughter, who was refusing to go to sleep and squawked a protest every time her mother put down her bow. ‘Although, of course, she might be a genius business tycoon like her father.’
‘Whatever she chooses to do in the future, she will always know that she is loved,’ Vadim replied deeply. ‘Just as I hope her mother knows that she is the love of my life.’
He lifted his head and trapped her gaze, the tenderness and love in his brilliant blue eyes filling Ella with joy. ‘As you are mine,’ she promised him fervently. ‘Now and for always, my love.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5504-7
RUTHLESS RUSSIAN, LOST INNOCENCE
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Chantelle Shaw.
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