by Sienna Blake
His eyes widen imperceptibly. For a second, a mere second, the ice in his features melt. I see the Dimitri I used to know looking back out at me.
Then his eyes freeze over again.
His hand is firm, smoother than they were, his old callouses almost unnoticeable. He hasn’t worked with his hands in a long time.
“Your husband has told me much about you.” He slides his other hand over mine, trapping me. “In terms of your beauty, he has not exaggerated. As for your other braggable qualities, they are yet to be discovered.” His words are honey and lightness, but I can hear the bite in his voice. The way he spits out the word husband. The slight scorn when he mentions my undiscovered braggable qualities.
I part my lips in shock. I can’t move as he tugs his hands from mine, my skin burning from where he touched me. Could he still be angry with me? After all these years?
I want to search his face again. But he has turned away already, back to my husband. I catch the eye of Mr Haggerty, staring at me with narrowed eyes.
I snap my mouth shut. He can’t find out about Dimitri and me. No one can. I school my features as best as I can and try to keep my head from spinning.
“I hope you don’t mind, I have my business advisor arriving soon,” Dimitri says.
“Certainly not,” my husband says after a slight pause. “We’ll have the guest room next to you made up for him.”
“Thank you.”
“Emily,” my husband says, “please check with cook that everything is ready for dinner. Alena can show Mr Wolf to his room.”
“But Papa, I thought I could show Mr—”
“And have Alena oversee our dinner?” He lets out a curt, cruel laugh at my expense. “I’d rather not have burned food. Neither would our guest. Alena doesn’t know the first useful thing about running a kitchen.”
I stiffen. “We can’t all have Emily’s domestic abilities.”
My husband’s hard eyes are focused on me. “I would settle for at least one ability.”
My cheeks flame. He’s still angry at me over the loss of our baby. It’s not my fault, I want to scream. I wanted him too. More than you.
I catch Dimitri’s gaze. I see no empathy. Just an empty coldness in his eyes. He turns to my husband. “Your footman can show me to my room. I’m sure Mrs Worthington has more important wifely duties to perform.”
“Nonsense,” my husband says with a laugh. “My wife has nothing better to do.”
Nothing better to do. That’s me. A kept woman. Useless except for showing guests to their room.
I lift my head high. “Please follow me, Mr Wolf. I’ll have one of the footmen bring up your luggage later.”
19
____________
Alena
I can feel Dimitri’s eyes on my back as he follows me up the stairs. My heart tumbles around my chest as we disappear from sight of the others and make our way through the corridors. Each one of his footsteps, echoing over mine, makes my insides flinch. My ankles and knees feel like they’re being held together by loose bolts. I curse these heels. It takes everything in me not to stumble. To just focus on the next step.
We say nothing, the whole way. My head has never been filled with so many questions.
Where have you been? How did you get here? How did you find me?
The air around us has never been so thick with words.
I missed you. I’m sorry. I love you. I always will.
We reach the guest room in the west wing on the top floor, the one my husband instructed that he occupy. I push open the navy-painted door and step aside.
He steps right up to me, his nearness causing my body to heat and my head to go lightheaded. “Please,” his eyes bore into mine, “after you.”
He wants me to come inside his room?
Of course. We’ll be alone inside. At last. We can talk. After five years I will get to say everything I have been longing to say. They all cram up into my throat. I swallow down a knot of anticipation and step into the room.
It’s a glorious large room with high ceilings, king-sized bed, the décor styled in a rich navy and gold. A grey light streams in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that span across the outer wall.
The door slams shut behind us like a gunshot. I flinch.
Dimitri and I are alone.
Alone.
His presence is like a fire on my back. I need relief and yet, I yearn for him to move closer. The floor creaks as he takes a step towards me. My body explodes into shivers.
“This is the best guest room in the house,” I ramble, my hands gripping the front of my dress to stop them from shaking. “It has a beautiful south-facing terrace overlooking the manicured back gardens and the moors on our estate. It gets quite a lot of sun. Well, for England.”
“Stop pretending, Alena. I know you remember me.”
I spin. The sight of him standing so close before me makes my heart beat a riot in my chest. “Oh, Dimi,” I breathe, moving towards him.
He holds up a hand, his lips lifting in a sneer. “I remember you.”
I halt as his harsh tone lashes through me. My mind tries to wrap around this development. Why is he speaking like that? “Dimi?”
“Don’t call me that. I am Mr Wolf to you.”
My blood drains in my limbs. There is no need for pretences now that we’re alone. This is his true self, his real feelings. He’s never forgiven me for our fight all those years ago. My piecemeal heart breaks all over again. “You… You can’t mean that.”
“Why, Alena,” he steps forward, closing the gap between us, “do my words hurt you?”
I hate that despite how cruelly he glares at me, I still want to hold him. I want to brush the scorn off his face, to rub my hands over his cold heart and bring it back to life.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you here?”
He leans in. His hot, sweet breath caressing my cheeks. “Why do you think?”
I shake my head, trying to clear my mind from the fog that descends over me with his nearness. “You want to hear how sorry I am? You want—?”
“I want a lot of things. None of which you deserve to be privy to anymore.” He leans in. “Let me give you a hint. I’m not here for a soppy heartfelt reunion.”
I can’t believe this. What’s happened to you, Dimitri? “You can’t possibly still feel—”
“You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t feel, Mrs Worthington.” The way he says my married title is so full of bitterness.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you whore.”
His words slap me across my face. “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not—”
“Marrying a man for money? Fucking a stranger for money? Don’t kid yourself at what you will become if you do this.”
My vision blurs through tears. I’m not a whore. I’m desperate. We’re desperate. Why can’t he see that this is our way out of this bitter hell.
“Go,” he says, shoving me towards the door. “Go and marry your rich husband. Hopefully you won’t disgust him the way you disgust me.”
I grit my teeth. He thinks I’m a whore. “It wasn’t my fault that—”
“I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. You said all I needed to hear all those years ago.”
I’m not the only one who made mistakes. He was the one who left me. He is so stubborn that he will never admit his faults. So blinded with rage even after five years. Something snaps in me. “You stupid man. You’re so full of bitterness, you wouldn’t hear me if I tried to explain.”
He snorts. “You’re the stupid one. If only you had stuck with me, Alena. If only you just had faith. I could have given you all of this and more.” He strides to the door and holds it open for me, cutting through our conversation. “Thank you for showing me to my room, Mrs Worthington.” We’re back to formalities again.
I straighten, pride lifting my chin.
“I hope you enjoy your short stay, Mr Wolf,” I say as I sweep past him.
“I�
��m sure I will.”
20
____________
Alena
The door slams behind me. I make it two steps before I sag against the wall, fury bleeding out of me.
What the hell just happened?
This is Dimitri. He appeared after all this time and… I shouldn’t have gotten so furious at him. But he was being so cold it was like chips of ice splintering into my skin.
I should go back and—
No. I will not bend before him. I will not beg for him.
His pride will not let him listen. Not yet. He just needs a few days here near me for him to soften. I know Dimitri. He could never stay angry at me. I just have to bear his anger, and wait.
I flinch as I take in the figure of the man who has just stepped into the corridor from the staircase, blocking my exit. Terrance’s beady grey eyes lock on mine as he strides towards me. I straighten and school my features into what I hope is a semblance of calm.
“Alena, are you still feeling weak from your miscarriage?” His voice is pretty with concern. I know it’s fake.
Mrs Bates must have told him. Or my husband. I force a smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Your third one in a number of years. I wonder what you’re doing wrong.”
I brush off the barb. “Can I help you?”
His lip pinches. I know he’s annoyed that I didn’t bite at his veiled insult. “Is our guest settled?”
“Yes, of course.”
He stops right before me, blocking my path. I realise too late that suspicion clouds his eyes. “And how do you know Mr Wolf?”
I try not to flinch. “I don’t. I just met him today.”
“Really?” His voice doesn’t sound convinced at all. “Funny, you looked at him as if you recognised him.”
“How strange. Perhaps he looks like someone I used to know.” I brush off his interrogation. “Excuse me. I need to see about the other guest room.”
He pushes me against the wall, blocking me with his body, his nearness making the bile rise into my throat. “Sweet, sweet Alena,” his voice weasels into my ear. “You’ll tell me the truth now, won’t you?”
I push against him. He won’t move. “Get away from me,” I demand, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.
“What’s going on here?” a stern voice demands. Dimitri’s voice washes over me. I sag with relief.
Terrance lets go of me and steps away. I turn and see my saviour standing just outside his doorway, his face like thunder.
“Mr Wolf,” Terrance says, a smarmy smile on his face. He shakes the greasy hair out of his face. “I was just coming up to see how you were settling in.”
“It looks like you were harassing Mrs Worthington.”
Terrance lets out an awkward laugh. “Of course not.”
Dimitri doesn’t look convinced at all. He strides up to us, his dominating presence taking up most of the corridor. Terrance seems to withdraw into himself. I want to fling myself into Dimitri’s arms—see, you do still care—but I restrain myself. “There is a special place in hell for men who force themselves on unwilling women.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Off you go, Alena.” Dimitri’s eyes burn into mine, demanding no argument. Power radiates off him, thick and coiled aggression. It makes my knees weak. I give him a nod, my breath coming out in short bursts.
I can feel Terrance scowling at me. There’s nothing he can do. I turn and hurry away.
“Where are my suitcases?” I hear Dimitri demand at Terrance behind me.
“Well, I—”
“Go and bring them to me.”
“But…” Terrance splutters. “I’m not a footman.”
“I don’t damn well care. Go. Now!”
A thunder of footsteps comes up behind me. I press aside against the closest wall as Terrence flies past me like the devil is on his heels. I stifle a giggle. Then stiffen when I sense eyes on my back, hot like the sun.
I turn to look at Dimitri over my shoulder. He’s already looking at me. My breath catches. My stomach warms. For a moment we just stare at each other, the air hanging heavy. I find tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. God, I’ve missed him. I suck in a breath to compose myself. Thank you, I mouth.
I swear I see the subtle nod of his head before he turns away.
21
____________
Alena
Emily, my husband and I sit in the dining room. My husband is at the head of the table. I sit on his right. The spare place opposite me, between my husband and Emily, has been reserved for Dimitri, who has not yet arrived.
I clear my throat. “I thought, er, Terrance would be eating with us,” I say casually. When he’s here he usually joins us for dinner.
“No,” my husband says, “he decided to return to London early.”
I stifle a smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dimitri had something to do with that. “So soon? How unfortunate for all of us.” My sarcasm is lost on Edgar as it always is. I glance over to Emily to catch her eye and wink.
She’s not looking at me. She hasn’t even heard me from the looks of it. She’s got her head turned, watching the doorway. She’s practically vibrating in her chair. “Where’s Mr Wolf?”
“I’m sure he’s coming,” I say with more bite than I intended.
“Do you think I should go up to his room and see if everything’s okay?”
My stomach stabs. Leave him alone, I want to yell. I don’t.
I clear my throat. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“What if he’s lost? This is such a big house.”
Before Emily can jump out of her chair, Dimitri appears. He’s changed out of his travelling suit. He wears a pressed pair of light grey slacks that showcase his strong thighs and slim hips. A black polo shirt stretches snugly across his wide, defined chest. His hair is slightly damp from the shower, the ends curling over his collar.
God, he is beautiful. So beautiful I could cry.
His eyes search the room until they find mine. Our gazes lock. My breath is stolen from me. He looked for me. Me.
He tears his gaze away. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he walks to his place. “I was on an important call.”
“That’s not a problem, good chap,” my husband says with a light-hearted tone. If either Emily or I were ever late to the table, he’d rant and rave.
Dimitri takes his seat. It’s not lost on me that he nudges the chair closer to Emily as he pulls it in underneath him. I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Dimitri proceeds to ignore me completely as he inquiries about Emily’s day: was that her practicing piano earlier, what a lovely sound, how long has she been playing, would she play something for him later?
He’s…flirting with her.
Bastard. He’s doing this on purpose. Why would he do this?
After every single one of our scams, each time Dimitri had to flirt with an unsuspecting mark, he would bundle me in his arms and whisper over and over against my ear how much he cared nothing for them, that I was the one he loved, the one he wanted. It hurt to see him pretending, but I never doubted that his coy smile and sweet words were anything other than pretence.
Now…now I’m not sure what I think.
I sense eyes on me. Mrs Bates is standing behind my husband, waiting on orders like the lapdog she is. Usually it’s a maid standing there. Why is she here? Probably because of Mr Wolf. She’s staring at me, eyes narrowed.
Shit.
I can’t keep looking at Dimitri. She’s already suspicious. I force my eyes down and command myself not to look at him again, despite how, like magnets to metal, they keep wanting to find their way back to his face.
Every laugh from Emily is a cut to my stomach. Every pretty thing he says to her is a stab to my heart. I want to throw up in my lap. I try to ignore it. But I can’t shut out my ears.
My appetite’s gone. I push food around on my plate, slowly dying inside and not being able to show it. I’m sic
kened by this behaviour from him. He’s doing it to hurt me. It’s torture, but I can’t make myself leave, excuse myself with a headache or something. The deepest part of me, the part that has longed for his presence for five long years, just wants to be near him in any way possible. Even if it kills me.
22
____________
Dimitri
Look at her, just sitting there, ignoring me.
I practically have Emily in my lap and yet Alena just sits there, picking at her food. She barely feels a damn thing, the heartless she-devil.
Her husband reaches over and slides a hand on hers. She looks up, smiling at him.
A stab goes through me.
What if they are in love? What if five years was enough to wash away any hold I had on her?
“Darling,” he says, “would you care to join me upstairs after dinner?”
Her eyes slide to mine, a glitter of defiance in them, before she gifts her husband with a radiant smile. A smile that she used to reserve only for me. “Of course.”
I almost choke at an image of crusty old Edgar lowering his body onto hers. It sears me. I grip my fork in my hand strong enough that I’m near to bending it. It takes everything in me not to throw this table aside and roar like a beast.
I seethe quietly inside. He’s old enough to be her fucking father. How could she let him touch her?
“Mr Wolf?”
Right, Emily was asking something. She seems a sweet enough girl, if a bit naïve.
I turn to her, forcing a smile. “Yes, Emily.”
“I was thinking of going for a walk through the gardens tomorrow after breakfast,” she says in a shy tone. “Would you like to join me? We have one of the most beautiful grounds in Yorkshire. I know all the best spots.”
“I’d like that,” I say.
“Perfect.” Emily’s eyes shine with such joy. I feel a thread of guilt worming through me. She is the only innocent one here. I’m sorry she’ll be caught up in my plan.
“You should come too, Mrs Worthington,” I say, turning to Alena.
