Indeed they were. A little crowd had fast become a rather large crowd as finally, finally, the ramp was lowered.
Only it wasn’t a dark, sexy Russian that drove out, it was a very excited redhead who jerked the car out.
‘The brakes...’ she said.
The brakes were very highly strung and sensitive to pressure, but Nikolai didn’t seem to care a bit as they bunny-hopped out.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘Just follow the satnav.’
It was quite a drive through London. The car ran like silk and purred as it carried them through the night. They were on Northumberland Avenue and, at the roundabout, she followed instructions and turned onto The Mall.
‘Are we going to Kensington Palace?’ she asked when he refused to give her a clue.
‘No.’
‘Buckingham Palace, then,’ she said. Oh, yes, she’d worked it out now. ‘That’s where Daniil and Sev met up. That’s where—’
‘We’re not going to Buckingham Palace.’
Instead, they turned into Hans Place and it would seem that the destination was on her left and so Rachel parked, badly.
‘Why are we here?’
There was a gentleman waiting to greet them and he wore a bright smile, despite the hour.
‘Who is he?’ Rachel asked, as he opened the door to a huge home.
‘The real estate agent.’
‘But they don’t come out at one in the morning.’ she said.
‘They do for me.’
Of course they did, given the location!
There was no furniture and her heels clipped on the wooden floor. She looked up at the high ceilings and wrapped her arms around herself at the gorgeous feel to the house.
‘This is the reception area...’ the real estate agent said, and Rachel stepped into the vast room with luxurious drapes—there was a fireplace that she would just love to see with a lit fire in it. There was a huge chandelier that didn’t look so huge in such a fine setting. It sparkled and cast such a lovely glow that she stared up at it.
‘Does the house come with matching earrings?’ she sighed.
‘Excuse me?’ the real estate agent checked, and Nikolai smiled as the man spoke on. ‘You would have access to Hans Gardens and the tennis court...’
‘Ha-ha,’ Rachel said and peered out at the gardens through the lovely French windows. ‘I can’t imagine you playing tennis, Nikolai.’
They went through to the library and then the kitchen and down to the cool cellar.
Then they climbed a stunning staircase and there were just too many rooms and too much to see, but her heart was soaring. If he was thinking of buying this, then surely it meant that he’d be spending some time in London.
But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.
‘Is this an investment property?’ she, oh, so casually, asked him as she peered into the master bedroom.
‘Could you wait outside?’ Nikolai said to the real estate agent.
‘I’ll wait downstairs,’ he said.
‘No,’ Nikolai corrected. ‘You’ll wait outside.’
Rachel stood at the window. The views were to die for, and she heard the front door close.
‘You mustn’t be so abrupt with people,’ she admonished, looking at the poor real estate agent on his phone by the car. ‘Couldn’t he have waited in the kitchen or something?’
‘Rachel,’ Nikolai said, ‘I don’t want an audience for this.’
‘For what?’
‘I’m buying this house because I want to live here.’
‘You’re staying?’ Hope soared, it really did. They didn’t have to end just yet. ‘But what about the yacht?’
‘It will be nice for holidays but I don’t think a yacht is a place to raise a baby.’
‘Nikolai?’ Rachel couldn’t breathe, not big breaths anyway. She was trying to slow down her brain because it was leaping ahead and jumping to impossible conclusions. They were standing in a home that he wanted to buy and talking babies. Rachel was too scared to glimpse the dream. She was jerking the reins on her mind, trying to pull it back from a sudden gallop towards the future, sure that in a moment she’d tumble, that any second now he’d explain about some Russian supermodel he was dating on the side or some...
Her top teeth bit into her lip and he could see the confusion in her eyes.
‘Look at the mantelpiece.’
Above the fire there was a small velvet box and Rachel frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘What do you think it is?’
‘I don’t know.’ She did know. She thought it looked like an engagement ring, a massive emerald, high set and glinting in its box.
She didn’t want to say anything, just in case she’d got it all wrong.
‘Is it a ring for the supermodel?’ she asked.
‘What supermodel?’
‘The one I just conjured up in my mind,’ she admitted. ‘The real love of your life.’
‘You’re the love of my life.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ It was the most horrible tease, it had to be. Rachel pointed out the facts.
‘We don’t do relationships!’
‘We’re getting married,’ Nikolai responded in his oh, so matter-of-fact way.
‘Er...aren’t you supposed to ask me?’
‘I don’t have to ask.’
He didn’t.
‘You’re supposed to get down on bended knee,’ she said.
‘You can if you want.’
He came over and they were almost at eye level with each other, and she put her hands around his neck and smiled.
She was starting to believe it might be true.
‘I thought you were leaving tomorrow.’
‘No.’
‘But you said that you were going to France.’
‘We’re going to France,’ Nikolai said. ‘For Anya’s opening night in Paris. You can write your blog...’
‘But when did you decide all this?’ She was honestly bewildered, the news utterly unexpected. She had braced herself for his leaving and now he was saying they would be together for life. ‘You told me on Saturday that you were leaving.’
‘And even as I said it, I knew I was making a mistake. Rachel, I have never wanted one person or one place. The thought of waking up to the same view each day has never appealed and yet now...’ He never showed weakness, it was how he had come to survive after all, but his one true weakness was Rachel and she was also his strength. She had revealed herself to him and he would open himself to her too. ‘I want to wake up to you each morning, I want to see the seasons from one place. I want friends and I want family and I want a home, but only now do I believe that dream is possible, and it is only possible with you.’
He took the ring from the box and placed it on her finger.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I think I did the day we met.’
‘You left me in bed!’ she pointed out.
‘Because I didn’t want the woman I was falling in love with to know about my past, yet it turns out that you knew already.’
‘I was horrible when you told me.’ Rachel thought back to the vodka bar and she still cringed at her handling of things that day.
‘Because of what had happened to you,’ Nikolai said.
‘I never got my liquorice ice cream.’ She pouted but he did not smile.
He was serious.
‘Rachel, we’re going to work on things but I promise you this—I don’t care if you fall asleep with all the lights blazing just so long as you sleep by my side. And I will never wake you for sex or—’
Rachel interrupted him then. ‘We can work on that one.’
‘We shall.’
The
y could smile together about even the hardest things, and that was love, she knew.
‘Can we elope?’ she asked.
‘We can.’
‘Can we marry at sea?’
‘I’d like that.’
It was better than either had dared dream.
EPILOGUE
‘RACHEL, I JUST don’t understand.’
Libby was perplexed!
Then again, her best friend had just told her she had run away to sea and was about to get married.
In ten minutes’ time!
‘You and Nikolai?’
‘Yes. The celebrant has just been choppered in...’
‘But where are you?’
‘Just off the South of France,’ Rachel said.
‘I want to be there.’
‘Yes, and my mother would get all offended and then if she came she’d insist on Aunty Mary and then Shona...’
‘I get it.’ Libby laughed.
‘Nikolai would probably feed André to the sharks, so it’s safer this way.’
‘What are you wearing?’
‘It’s completely over the top, and I think you’re going to tell me off. Remember my Swan Lake costume, the one I loved?’
‘The one they lost.’
‘They didn’t lose it,’ Rachel confessed. ‘It fell into my bag!’
Yes, she could be bad, but she used it for good. She stood at the computer and when she came into view Libby gasped.
Rachel wore her very favourite costume, but with bare legs and her hair down and in ringlets. She had on loads of coral lipstick with lashings of mascara and no foundation, but it was her smile that made Libby gasp. She had never seen her friend truly happy or more relaxed.
‘Nikolai suits you.’
‘Oh, he does.’
‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘I’m so happy for me.’
They said goodbye and then Rachel headed up from the master suite to the main deck.
Nikolai had had her tucked away all day and now she saw why.
No, she wasn’t a flowers girl, so the deck was strewn with white feathers that blew and swirled in the breeze and she walked towards him to the sound of a harp, but played beautifully this time.
Theirs was a very deep and private love and they celebrated it quietly today.
‘You look beautiful,’ Nikolai said to his happy swan.
‘So do you.’
He wore a dark suit, the off-the-peg suit that he had worn on the day they had met, and it was how she had first loved him.
Only today his eyes were not hidden behind dark glasses.
There was nothing to hide from now.
It was a short service but loaded with love.
‘You are the best thing that ever happened in my life,’ Nikolai said as he slipped a ring on her finger. ‘I will love you for ever.’
And Yuri popped into her head then, a man who had been like a father to Nikolai and who had missed his wife so much after she had died. She thought how lovely it would be to spend every day, down to her last, with Nikolai.
To know him each day just a little more.
She felt like Odette for the first time.
And then it was her turn and she pushed her ring onto his finger and for ever it would remain there. And she didn’t have to hold back from what she wanted to say, because there were three words this playboy now wanted to hear.
‘I love you.’
That was it—they were husband and wife.
They were family.
She kissed the groom and he tasted divine.
And after.
They lay in the sky lounge and watched the montage and finally he saw her dance. They ate lobster Mornay with a huge side of caviar, and drank vodka infused with ginger.
And then his butler brought in cake.
They held the knife together and cut into the icing.
No marzipan.
Instead, shiny grey oozed out.
Liquorice ice cream!
Oh, it was worth waiting for and later they lay under the stars and kissed with black tongues and then she looked deeply into brown eyes that had melted the hardest heart.
‘My icebreaker,’ Rachel said.
‘Always.’
* * * * *
Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to IRRESISTIBLE RUSSIAN TYCOONS in RETURN OF THE UNTAMED BILLIONAIRE
Available June 2016
And in case you missed it, you can find out where it all started in
THE PRICE OF HIS REDEMPTION
THE COST OF THE FORBIDDEN
Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE SHEIKH’S LAST MISTRESS by Rachael Thomas.
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The Sheikh’s Last Mistress
by Rachael Thomas
CHAPTER ONE
ZAFIR AL ASMARI WAS SCEPTICAL as he drove towards the old red-brick house, which was a stark contrast to the immaculate penthouse he’d just left in London. Was it possible the woman he was seeking really worked here? This riding school, nestled in the countryside beyond London, certainly looked as if it had seen better days—not at all where he had imagined finding Destiny Richards. Her reputation with difficult horses had made him travel from Kezoban personally to seek her out.
He parked his black sports car and got out, unsure if he should even continue with this madness. He must have been misinformed. Destiny Richards wouldn’t be working somewhere so ordinary. Nothing about the old house or tired-looking sheds gave any hint of being professional stables. He was on the point of leaving when movement inside the shed beyond the house caught his eye.
Zafir walked forward, his shoes crunching on the grit of the driveway, and, unable to contain his curiosity, looked into the building being used as the riding school. Through an open door, he could see a tall, slim young woman lunging a chestnut horse around her. Intrigued, he walked down the side of the house, intent on seeing exactly who this woman was. If she was Destiny Richards, he could settle his unease and confirm he’d done the right thing by hiring her before coming to meet her personally.
‘Ah, you have arrived.’ A sharp female voice behind him dragged his attention from the young woman and horse. He stopped, turning abruptly to an older and somewhat overenthusiastic woman. ‘Are you here for the Sheikh? To see Destiny work her magic?’
Zafir narrowed his eyes. Instinct warned him of this woman’s insincerity. Her overzealous attitude jarred his nerves, but if she thought he was here for the Sheikh instead of actually being the Sheikh, then so much the better. He could ascertain if Destiny Richards did indeed possess the gift of horse whispering, something he very much hoped was true, but right now, given the surroundings, he was inclined to think he’d been misled.
‘I am and I don’t have time to waste. Where is Ms Richards?’
‘My daughter is in the school. This way.’ She gestured with a smile which didn’t reach her eyes, backing up his first impression. It didn’t bode well that Destiny Richards was this woman’s daughter. First impressions counted for a lot in his culture and he was far from impressed, but had to remember this might be Majeed’s last chance.
Without another word, he made his way to the school, aware the woman was following. Quietly he entered, stood against the wooden interior wall and watched. For a while the young woman he now knew was Destiny Richards had no idea he was there and he couldn’t help his gaze sweeping over her, appreciating her tall and shapely figure and how the tight-fitting jodhpurs and T-shirt clung, in a way only a hot-blooded male could, just as he’d always done before duty had brought him to heel.
Her dark hair was pulled up high on her head into a ponytail, which swayed like a dancer to an unheard tune with each move she made. She was distracting and not at all what he’d expected, especially after having just met her mother.
The horse slowed to a walk, then stopped at her calm command. Destiny waited for the horse to walk to her and, as she touched its face, Zafir could hear the sound of soothing words, seeing the obvious connection of trust the horse had with her. Then she turned round, her eyes meeting his instantly.
Despite the distance something passed between them, jolting him with its intensity. She was beautiful and, for the first time since he’d inherited the title of Sheikh of Kezoban, he felt his interest stirring, awakening everything he’d turned his back on. He pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time to be distracted by a woman, not when Royal protocol dictated he had to select a bride. As the last remaining member of his family, providing his country with an heir was paramount.
Billionaire Without a Past (Irresistible Russian Tycoons) Page 15
