‘There’s something for you in the kitchen.’
That put a smile on her face and for the first time in living memory Libby ran into a room she usually tried to run from and there on the bench was a box.
‘You got me a present.’
‘I did,’ Daniil said. ‘I got it in Russia and I had it wrapped, but it was opened at customs. I was going to have Cindy rewrap it on Monday. As you can see, I tried...’
There was more sticky tape than one box could handle, and Libby rightly guessed that choosing presents and wrapping gifts wasn’t something he’d done much of in his life.
‘Can I open it?’
‘Do.’
Daniil was as tense as she’d been when he had opened her gift, and he glimpsed then how things like this mattered, how choosing something for someone you loved meant you so badly wanted them to love it, too.
‘There aren’t any gift shops where I come from and I didn’t want to just get something from the airport.’ He could hear the rare tension in his own voice as she opened it. ‘Sergio’s wife knew someone who was an accomplished glassblower. I watched this being made.’
Her hand was shaking as she opened the box and there was her thing from him—a slender ballet dancer in glass, with blue eyes and a wide smile.
‘And she has a hole in her head for a flower!’ Libby cried out in delight. ‘I love it, I love her, it’s the best gift I’ve ever had and you must have loved me then...’
‘Maybe,’ he relented. ‘Or maybe a bit before that.’ He guided her to the room she hadn’t been allowed to enter before, and just as he had opened her bedroom door, Libby opened this one and entered his private space.
‘You did keep it.’ She smiled, because once her eyes had taken in all the gym equipment, she looked over to a shelf and there that glittery porcelain ornament sat.
She placed her glass ballerina next to it and then saw she belonged beside the only other possessions that mattered to him.
She reached up and took the picture down and Daniil stood behind her, looking at the photo of four young boys.
‘You look like brothers,’ Libby commented, because they all had dark hair and pale skin and solemn eyes.
‘I know, but only Roman and I are related. I didn’t even know I had these with me when I came. Roman must have slipped them into my case. I had copies made and sent them to him but, of course, they were never posted.’
How cruel, Libby thought.
‘My parents tried to throw these out,’ he said, ‘but Marcus retrieved them and kept them for me.’
And then she said it.
‘They’re not your parents,’ Libby said. ‘They don’t deserve that title.’
‘You don’t hold back, do you?’
‘I’ll try...’
‘Never hold back,’ he said, and then he looked down at the photo. ‘That’s Sev.’ He pointed to a serious-looking child.
‘The one who the letter was from?’ Libby asked, and she turned her head and he nodded.
‘You’ll find him.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So that must be Nikolai.’
There was a long stretch of silence and then he ran a finger over the image of a young life lost and his voice was a husk.
‘Yes.’
‘How did he drown?’
‘He was found in a river,’ Daniil said. ‘He ran away because he was being abused.’ He closed his eyes and she was patient with his silence and then he opened them again. ‘And there’s Roman,’ he said, but he did not point. Daniil waited for her to try to guess which one of the twins he was. ‘You won’t be able to tell us apart, no one was ever able to.’
‘I can.’
She pointed to the boy on the left. ‘That’s you.’
‘Fluke,’ Daniil said. ‘Look at this one.’
He took down the other photo and she looked at two serious boys with black hair and dark eyes, and it had been taken before the scar on his cheek...
Again she chose correctly.
‘How do you know?’
‘I just know,’ Libby said. ‘I guess that’s love.’
She watched as he put the photos down beside the letter. The thing she had given him seemed to smile and say it would keep them safe.
‘Come on,’ he said.
This time when they moved to the bedroom it was hand in hand, and as she walked into the vast space another question she had was answered.
She stilled as she heard through the night the chimes as Big Ben struck midnight. It made her shiver low in her stomach. The room that had looked so empty seemed to fill with the low and beautifully familiar noise and Libby wondered how she had missed it their first night.
Daniil watched her mouth open as it did and he saw that tiny frown and he knew her question without her voicing it.
‘On a still night you can hear them,’ he said. ‘I had the glass modified so that sometimes you can hear them chime. It is very nice to fall asleep or wake up to.’
‘You are sentimental,’ she said.
‘I am,’ Daniil said. ‘And the answer to your question is nine o’clock.’
‘Sorry?’ Libby frowned.
‘Fifteen hours after you walked into my office, and fifteen minutes after you walked out of my home, the clock struck nine and I guess I was already in love with you because I called Cindy and told her to cancel my morning so I could work on your business plan. So,’ Daniil asked, curious now, ‘when did you know you loved me?’
‘What’s the time, Mr Wolf?’
Daniil frowned at her game.
‘Six o’clock.’ Libby answered with the truth.
The moment I saw you I knew.
EPILOGUE
‘I HATE YOU,’ Rachel said, as she added the last curl to Libby’s hair.
‘I know you do.’ Libby smiled.
In half an hour’s time she would be marrying the man of her dreams and Rachel was going to be a witness.
Wrapped in her dressing gown, Libby took one last look around the flat. It was a lot emptier now as over the past few weeks her things had been moved over to Daniil’s, but now she gave her flatmate and friend a hug before she finally moved out.
‘You’ve been the best friend...’
‘Don’t get all sentimental,’ Rachel warned. ‘I’ve just done your make-up.’
‘I know.’ Libby smiled but then it wavered. ‘I’m so nervous...’
‘Why?’ Rachel asked. ‘You’re head over heels and not afraid to show it.’
‘I know. I’m just worried what everyone’s going to say when they find out we’re married and...’ Libby screwed her eyes closed. ‘I don’t care what they say.’
Oh, she did.
A bit.
Her father would freak at the missed opportunity to organise such a potentially prominent wedding. After all, the press were going to go crazy when they found out that Daniil Zverev was married and that his bride was pregnant.
‘It wouldn’t be fair to Daniil to have a big family wedding when his own brother can’t be there.’ Rachel reminded Libby of the reason they had chosen the quietest of celebrations. ‘Do you feel as if you’re missing out?’
‘Missing out?’ Libby’s mouth gaped. ‘This is my idea of a perfect wedding.’
It was.
Libby looked in the mirror once she had put on her dress—it was very simple, a soft ivory and more like a silk slip than a designer gown, but to her it was perfect.
She put on new soft ballet shoes and she had a bunch of palest pink peonies, roses and calla lilies, and she’d added anemones, too, because she’d loved them first.
‘Am I showing?’ Libby asked, because she was desperate to get a bump but it was still way too soon.
‘You’re only ten weeks,’ Rachel pointed out.
They had been the happiest weeks of both hers and Daniil’s lives.
‘Do you think he’s guessed about your surprise?’ Rachel asked.
‘No.’ Libby smiled as they got into the car and Rachel drove them to the registry office.
They wouldn’t be getting some random witness. Instead, Libby had called Marcus, and he and his own new wife Shirley were coming to the wedding today before they headed off on a cruise.
They were family, Libby had decided as the car pulled up and there, waiting, was Daniil.
‘You don’t look nervous,’ she said, as he took her hand.
‘Wolves are never nervous,’ Daniil said. ‘Anyway, why would I be anything other than happy today?’
Why indeed?
They walked into the old building and he stilled and the calm, always composed Daniil was at a loss for words when he saw Marcus and Shirley waiting for them.
‘Thank you,’ Daniil said to the man who had stepped in, who had guarded his precious photos for him and had respected his space.
‘We wouldn’t miss this for the world,’ Marcus said.
It really was the tiniest of weddings, but it was loaded with love.
The least sentimental man put a ring on her finger, dotted with pink argyle diamonds, just because it was her favourite colour in the world.
‘I love you.’ He said words he’d never thought he would. ‘And I will make sure you know that every day. You will always be my leading lady.’
It was her favourite role and one she could only have dreamed of till now. There in the spotlight of his love Libby felt she could fly.
‘And I love you,’ she said. ‘I always will.’
There was cake for everyone, made by Shirley again, only this time without resentment so it tasted divine, and there was champagne for everyone except the bride, who didn’t need bubbles to be fizzing with joy.
And then it was just them, husband and wife checking into a lavish London hotel with a different view, one that looked out at the palace where tomorrow they would sit at midday and wait and see if Sev came.
‘I don’t think he’ll be there,’ Daniil said, because tomorrow was five years to the day he should have met him.
‘He might be,’ Libby said. ‘It’s worth a try.’
‘It is,’ Daniil said.
Love was always worth the try, he’d now found out.
Love was the most precious gift and, Daniil found, with love had come hope.
He closed the drapes on the view and the possibilities of tomorrow as he focused on this special night.
He took his bride in his arms and Libby lifted her face to meet his kiss.
Tomorrow they would look for answers.
Tonight, though, for Daniil and Libby there were no questions, just the tender celebration of their love.
* * * * *
If you’ve read and loved gorgeous Daniil, don’t miss the second book in IRRESISTIBLE RUSSIAN TYCOONS, the scandalous new quartet from Carol Marinelli!
THE COST OF THE FORBIDDEN available January 2016 from Harlequin Presents
Keep reading for an excerpt from RAVENSDALE’S DEFIANT CAPTIVE by Melanie Milburne.
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Ravensdale’s Defiant Captive
by Melanie Milburne
CHAPTER ONE
JULIUS RAVENSDALE KNEW his housekeeper was up to something as soon as she brought in his favourite dessert. ‘Queen’s pudding?’ He raised one of his brows. ‘I never have dessert at lunch unless it’s a special occasion.’
‘It is a special occasion,’ Sophia said as she put the meringue-topped dessert in front of him.
He narrowed his gaze. ‘Okay, tell me. What’s going on?’
Sophia’s expression was sheepish. ‘I’m bringing in a girl to help me run the house. It’s only for a month until this wretched tendonitis settles. The extra pair of hands will be so helpful and I’ll be doing my bit for society. It’s a win-win.’
Julius glanced at the wrist brace Sophia had been wearing for the past couple of weeks. He knew she worked far too hard and could do with the extra help but he liked to keep the staff numbers down in the villa. Not because he was mean about paying them. He would pay them triple to stay away and let him get on with his work. ‘Who is it?’
‘Just a girl who’s in need of a bit of direction.’
Julius mentally rolled his eyes. Of all the housekeepers he could have chosen, he had employed the Argentinian reincarnation of Mother Teresa. ‘I thought we agreed your lame ducks were restricted to the stables or the gardens?’
‘I know, but this girl will go to prison if—’
‘Prison?’ he said. ‘You’re bringing a convicted criminal here?’
‘She’s only been in trouble a couple of times,’ Sophia said. ‘Anyway, maybe the guy deserved it.’
‘What did she do to him?’
‘She keyed his brand-new sports car.’
Julius’s gut clenched at the thought of his showroom-perfect Aston Martin housed in the garage. ‘I suppose she said it was an accident?’
‘No, she admitted to it,’ Sophia said. ‘She was proud of it. That and the message she sprayed on his lawn with weed killer.’
‘She sounds delightful.’
‘So you’ll agree to have her?’
Julius took in his housekeeper’s hopeful expression. His sarcasm was lost on her. Sophia was the most charitable person he knew. Always doing things for others. Always looking for a way to make a difference in someone’s life. He knew she was lonely since both her adult children had moved abroad for work. What would it hurt to indulge her just this once? He would be busy with fine-tuning his space software. He had less than a month to iron out the kinks in the programming before he presented it to the research team for funding approval.
He let out a long breath. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever thought of taking up knitting or cross-stitch instead?’
Sophia beamed at him. ‘Just wait until you meet her. You’re going to love her.’
* * *
Holly considered making a run for it when the van stopped but the size of the villa and its surrounds made her pause. It was big. Way big. Massive. It probably had its own area code. Maybe its own political party. It was four storeys high, built in a neo-classical style with spectacular gardens and lush, rolling fields fringed by thick forest. It didn’t look anything like the detention centre she’d envisaged. There was no twelve-foot-high fence with electrified barbed wire at the top. There was no surveillance tower and no uniformed, rifle-toting guards—or, at least, none she could see—casing the joint. It looked like a top-end hotel—a luxurious and very private resort for the rich and famous. Which kind of made her wonder why she’d been sent here. Not that she’d been expecting chains and bread and water or anything, but still. This was seriously over the top.
‘It’s only for a month,’ Natalia Varela, her caseworker, said as the decorative wrought-iron gates opened electronically, allowing them access to the long, sweeping limestone driveway leading to the immaculately maintained villa. ‘You got off light
ly considering your rap sheet. I know a few people who’d happily swap places with you.’
Holly grunted. Folded her arms across her breasts. Crossed her right leg over her left. Jerked her ankle up and down. Pouted. Why should she look happy? Why should she act grateful that she was being sent to live with some man she’d never heard of in his big, old fancy villa?
A month.
Thirty-one days of living with some stranger who had magnanimously volunteered to ‘reform’ her. Ha-ha. Like that was going to work. Who was this guy anyway? All she’d been told was he was some hotshot techie nerd from England who had made the big time in Argentina designing software for space telescopes used in the Atacama Desert in neighbouring Chile. Oh, and he was apparently single. Holly rolled her eyes. He’d agreed to take on a troubled young woman for altruistic reasons? And the correctional authorities had actually fallen for that?
Yeah, right. She knew all about men and their dodgy motivations.
After being given the all clear from the security intercom device, Natalia drove through the gates before they whispered shut behind the car. ‘Julius Ravensdale is doing you a big favour,’ she said. ‘He’s only agreed to this—and very reluctantly at that—because his housekeeper has tendonitis in her wrist. You’ll be her right-hand helper. It’s an amazing opportunity. This place is like a five-star resort. It’ll be great vocational training for you. I hope you’ll make the most of it.’
Vocational training for what? Holly thought with a cynical curl of her lip. No one was going to make a housekeeper out of her just because she’d made a few mistakes, which weren’t even really mistakes, because her pond-scum stepfather had seriously had it coming to him. It was just a dumb old sports car, for pity’s sake. So what if he had to have it re-sprayed and his precious lawn re-sown after the weedkiller incident?
Holly was not going to be some rich man’s lowly slave scrubbing floors until her knees grew callouses as big as cabbages. Her days of being pushed around were long over. Julius Ravens-whatever-his-name-was would be in for a big shock if he thought he could exploit her to suit his nefarious needs.
The Price of His Redemption Page 16
