She put the flowers in the huge vase that had been put on the table but she moved them through to the stunning bedroom and placed them by the side of the bed.
‘You shouldn’t sleep with flowers in the bedroom,’ Daniil said.
‘Sleep out there, then,’ she said, because she wasn’t letting the flowers out of her sight. She sat on the bed and it was like sinking into a marshmallow, and she watched Daniil as he quickly went through some notes on his computer.
‘I was supposed to be doing this on the way here,’ he admitted, and then glanced over to where she sat happily watching him, content to let him do whatever he had to. ‘Will you be bored?’ he checked.
‘I hope so,’ Libby sighed. ‘That’s my ambition.’
‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’m going to go down. Wish me luck?’
‘For a business dinner?’
‘More than that,’ he said. ‘I want to buy this place.’
‘Don’t I get a kiss?’ she asked, as he went to leave.
‘I promised not to lay a finger on you.’
‘Just your lips, then.’
‘Nope,’ he said, and then he was gone.
Libby lay back on the bed, breathing in the scent of the flowers, with the feeling that the world seemed in better order now.
She looked out of the window. There was her friend Big Ben and she remembered giving Daniil a massage, wishing she could freeze the hands of time.
And here she was again.
She had a bath and she deviated from the menu with a request of petals of her own—pale pink peonies and roses and calla lilies.
Damn the man. Till now anemones had been her favourite flower, which had been good because they were cheap.
Now, as she lay in her lovely bath with room service on the way, she pictured a life with half her wages spent on luxurious flowers just so she could remember this bliss.
* * *
Daniil had spent a lot of time trying to convince himself that it was because the sex was good between them that he kept going back to her.
But as dinner dragged on his theory worked less and less.
He could not stop thinking about her, wondering what she was doing in the suite, thinking back to their conversation and her demand for a text. He was actually considering sending one; he had her business card in his wallet and he could easily pause the conversation and do just that.
No.
He was seriously considering buying this place—he should have his mind more on the conversation.
It usually was.
Daniil never mixed business with pleasure—his mind was only ever on one thing at a time.
Tonight, though, his thoughts kept drifting several floors up. He was glad that he had brought Libby and it felt good to know that after this very long dinner meeting he could simply head upstairs to her.
No, he did not want a brandy. In fact, he drank his coffee down in one and wished the current owners goodnight.
Just after midnight he arrived at the penthouse suite.
The maid was wheeling away the trolley and he halted her. He lifted the lid on the plates and there were the dark remains of a chocolate soufflé and also another dish that looked as if it had once held ice cream.
Good for her, Daniil thought. He was glad she was making the most of the night.
He stepped quietly into the suite and the air smelled fragrant, even more so in the bedroom. For a small moment he thought she must have gone home because in the darkness the bed, though unmade, looked empty, but there, he soon realised, she was—curled up in a ball and sound asleep.
No, Daniil knew for certain then that it wasn’t sex that kept leading him back to her. She needed to sleep; he had seen how tired she’d looked tonight and for the first time in his life he undressed with the sole intention of not waking someone up.
He got into bed and the sigh she gave as she turned and curled into him was one of pure pleasure. He took her into his arms.
‘I had the very best night...’ Libby mumbled.
She had. It had been a completely indulgent night and it was better for knowing that he would soon join her. She was floaty and relaxed for the first time in... As his arms wrapped around her Libby lay there in a sugary haze, trying to remember how long it had been since she had felt this content and peaceful.
Since he had arrived in her life and turned it upside down?
No, because before then she had been grappling with the end of her dancing career and coming to terms with the fact that her performing days were over.
Before then, perhaps? No, because she had been grappling with her career just to stay in it.
And before then?
She had never known peace as if it was the answer.
‘Go to sleep,’ Daniil said, and kissed the top of her head, and she did just that.
It was a deep and dreamless sleep for both of them until just before dawn when Libby awoke in slight panic as his arms pulled her closer into him.
It didn’t reassure her.
He’d be gone soon.
Libby had considered herself fully warned.
She hadn’t thought that she might fall in love.
It was then she was honest with herself and admitted that she had done just that.
She was in love with Daniil Zverev, heartbreaker to the stars.
‘You’re okay,’ he said, as if he understood a sudden panic.
He did.
Daniil had woken on many occasions thinking of Roman and wondering where the hell he was in this world and how he himself could even stand to be on the planet without him.
In more recent days he had lain filled with dread at the thought of a night back at his parents’.
He could barely stand the thought of going there—he knew that it would be hell. He felt her start to relax in his arms and her breathing evened out. She rested her head on his chest. He thought how much more pleasant the evening had been, simply knowing that she was near and that when the meeting was over she would be there.
Yes, it was far more than sex.
Daniil had never asked for help with anything in his life. In fact, he considered it selfish that he was even considering putting her through the misery of Saturday night just to make things easier on him.
But, selfishly, he was.
He needed her there.
‘This weekend,’ Daniil said into the darkness, ‘does your father have to be there?’
Libby frowned as she pondered the question. ‘I guess.’
‘Could he stay away?’
‘Why?’
‘I want you to come with me.’ He felt the flutter of her eyelashes on his chest as her eyes opened and he was grateful that she did not lift her head to look at him.
He couldn’t quite admit just how much he wanted her there or how important it was to him, so he tried to keep things light.
‘I want to take you because you know about my name change and things...’
‘Of course,’ she said, and then nodded. ‘I’ll speak to my father.’
Hope, foolish hope wasn’t just unfurling in her chest, it ran like magical ivy through her body, and she tried to contain it, to tell herself he wasn’t exactly taking her home to meet the parents, but she was sure there was more to it than that she knew of his name change.
‘You’ll go?’ Daniil checked.
‘I shall.’
It was then that she lifted her head and he lowered his and their mouths met and the kiss that they shared was different from any either had known—slow at first and then gently building...
Yes, it wasn’t just about sex because, on this morning, they made love.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘I THOUGHT THAT you weren’t going to get your hop
es up,’ Rachel commented as Libby packed her brand-new overnight bag. Her blond hair was in ringlets, her smile painted wide and every sentence seemed peppered by the word Daniil.
‘Well, I’m trying my best not to,’ Libby admitted, and then said to Rachel what she kept trying to tell herself. ‘I don’t think that this is a meet-the-parents night. I know that I’m just there because I...’ She gave a little shake of the head rather than carry on speaking. Usually she told Rachel everything. They were very close friends, but she didn’t feel quite right sharing Daniil’s life. He was so intensely private that there wasn’t much she knew, but the little he had told her felt like a gift.
‘So it’s an overnight thing?’ Rachel asked, but Libby shrugged.
‘I don’t really know,’ she admitted.
‘Can’t you call him and find out?’
‘I don’t have his phone number,’ Libby sighed. ‘Which is probably wise of him. I’d have found ten million reasons to text or call.’
Still, she lived in a state of suspension.
She knew she had gone a little bit overboard for tonight. She’d had her hair done and had bought everything new—right down to her toothbrush, which she was packing in her new toiletry bag.
‘You know his reputation,’ Rachel said.
‘I do,’ she called over her shoulder as she popped into the bathroom to grab her pills. ‘I’m choosing to ignore it and just live in the now.’
And right now she was happy.
Terribly so.
Hopefully, Libby thought as she swiped her pills from the shelf, her period would wait until after the weekend was over and then she could start on them. It had been his comment about going on the Pill that had first given her hope and now that she was going to meet his family.
The one-night stand had spread over days and was starting to run into weeks. ‘It’s lasted far longer than I expected it to,’ Libby said, as she wriggled into neutral sheer stockings and put on her brand-new dress.
‘But you still don’t have his number?’
‘No.’
She headed to the lounge where the flowers he had bought her held prime position. They weren’t exactly in pristine condition—the roses were open and splendid and, yes, the lilies were dropping pollen, but they were still a sight to behold.
‘You should play it a bit more aloof,’ Rachel warned, as Libby sat on the window ledge like a cat, watching the street and waiting for his car to appear.
‘I know that I should but then I’d be lying to us both,’ Libby said. ‘Anyway, I’ve tried to play it all cool with him but I simply can’t—the very second that I see him my self-control is shot. I’ve decided that I’m just going to be myself,’ she said. ‘It’s all I can be.’
‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you...’ Rachel said, as a low silver sports car pulled up and a male model got out.
Actually, it was Daniil!
No, there was absolutely no such thing as playing it aloof where he was concerned. Libby answered the door before he had even knocked and as it opened Daniil, who was not looking forward to tonight, smiled at her effusive greeting.
‘You look amazing,’ Libby said, running her hands over his jacket simply to feel him. He was always immaculately dressed but tonight his black suit sat so beautifully on his shoulders and his crisp white shirt and gunmetal tie enhanced his beauty. Above his right eye was a small bruise and she ran a finger over it.
‘Fighting again,’ she commented, as she remembered the bruises on his chest the night they had met.
‘Maybe I walked into a door.’
‘Poor door,’ she said, and his smile made her melt because she could feel that he was pleased to see her, also.
Of course, his greeting wasn’t quite as over the top. ‘You look very nice, too,’ he said.
She would hope so!
‘It’s all new!’ She gave him a twirl to show off her lovely moss-green dress. He then watched as she picked up some black court shoes and peeled the labels off before putting them on her feet.
‘New shoes, too!’
‘I told you it’s all new.’ She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Now I can reach you.’ His hands moved around her waist, stealing kisses between her words. ‘New toothbrush, new overnight bag...’
‘The loan went in, then?’
‘It did!’ Libby grinned again. ‘However, this was a necessary expenditure...’
‘Very necessary,’ he agreed, because had her flatmate not been standing scowling at them he’d have been asking which way her bedroom was.
She was just so scented and dressed up and excited to see him and Daniil had never stepped into a home and felt so welcome.
Not once.
His home was always his chosen venue and hotel rooms, however luxurious they were, were bland at best.
Home had never been where the heart was for him and yet he could tell that happiness resided here and he was being welcomed in.
‘Come through,’ Libby said. ‘This is Rachel.’
‘Hi, Daniil,’ Rachel said, and then looked straight at her friend. ‘I hate you.’
‘I know you do.’ Libby smiled and led him through a door. ‘This is the living room.’
He had a look around. They certainly did a lot of living in here—there were books and magazines and more things on every shelf space than he had ever seen.
The tour wasn’t over yet.
‘Kitchen.’ Libby gestured as they passed it, though didn’t stop to let him peek in. ‘And there’s the loo just in case you get lost in the dark at night.’
Oh, stop it, she told herself, but she could not contain her joy at having him there.
‘And this,’ Libby said, as they approached a door, ‘is my bedroom.’ As she went to open it he halted her hand.
‘I’m guessing there’s a theme,’ he said. ‘Pink?’
‘Nope,’ Libby said, and it was he who opened the door and stepped in.
There was no room for it to be pink.
He stepped into the chaos.
Usually he didn’t like clutter, he didn’t like anything out on display, and yet here in this room her whole life was on show.
There was a huge mirror where no doubt she exercised and there were endless pictures of her that had been taken through her dancing years. There were certificates on every wall—so much stuff he wondered how she ever found anything.
‘I’m such a narcissist,’ Libby said, as he looked closely at a huge framed photo of her.
‘You’re too nice to be one,’ he said. ‘Too thoughtful.’
‘Well, I did tidy up for you,’ Libby said.
‘Really?’
‘And I changed the sheets.’
‘Are they new, too?’
Libby nodded. ‘There was a selfish motive there, too, though...’
‘Come on.’ He smiled and released her. ‘We had better go.’
He made no attempt to kiss her, Libby thought. Instead, he picked up her overnight bag and they headed out to his car.
‘No driver?’
‘Not at weekends.’
Into the passenger side she went and sank into the leather seat. The traffic was quieter than Daniil had allowed for and they were soon pulling into the parking basement of his office.
‘Why are we here?’ Libby asked.
She really didn’t know anything about tonight.
‘Because,’ Daniil explained, ‘on the rooftop there is a helipad.’
‘Oh!’ She had never been in a helicopter before. ‘Are we flying back tonight?’
‘I think we are expected to stay but I am going to keep the pilot on standby all night. I really don’t know how it is going to go.’
They took the elevator to the foyer, Libby
’s shoes clipping away, making a noise on the marble floor, and, no, it didn’t annoy him.
‘We just have to stop in my office for a moment. I need to pick up the gift.’
‘What did you get them?’ she asked. He didn’t answer at first and when they were in his office Libby blushed as she remembered what they had got up to at the desk.
‘I’m not sure what Cindy got for them,’ Daniil answered, and pointed to a large beautifully wrapped gift and picked up a note beside it. ‘A ruby vase apparently.’
‘A ruby vase?’ Libby groaned. ‘Have you no imagination?’
‘I don’t. Well, at least not where my parents are concerned, and Cindy certainly doesn’t have one.’
‘You sent her out to get your parents their gift?’
‘Of course I did.’
Libby, who could happily spend a day thinking about the perfect gift for somebody, was appalled and suddenly terribly concerned about what had happened to the present she had bought him. ‘Where’s the present that I got for you?’ she asked.
‘I think it’s in my drawer,’ he said, and then watched as she opened it up and rummaged through for a full minute.
‘No, it isn’t.’
Daniil stood there as she opened his drawer, surprised by his own non-reaction. Had anybody else done the same he might possibly have had their hands off.
‘I don’t know where it is, then,’ he said. ‘The cleaner must have moved it.’
Libby pouted. She didn’t believe him for a moment. ‘Should we go up?’ she asked.
‘We’ll just wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll get a text when he’s ready for us.’
Daniil walked over to the window and looked out at the bright late-afternoon sunshine and Libby could see the tension in his shoulders. ‘Are you nervous about tonight?’
‘I’m not nervous...’ he said in a rather scoffing voice, but then he checked himself. It wasn’t her fault how he felt right now. He had woken early this morning and taken himself to his club in the East End, where he had trained hard and then sparred, yet it had done little to relieve his mounting tension. That was the reason for the bruise over his eye and he was glad that Libby hadn’t demanded answers. No, nervous wasn’t the word and he tried to find the right one. He did not turn and look as he told her exactly how he felt. ‘Dread.’
The Price of His Redemption Page 9
