I collapse back against the chair and stare at my lap. My palms feel clammy. First Rosa and now him. Both have made me realize how naïve and stupid I have been. I trusted Nigel implicitly. He said he would always put my safety first, and I believed him.
"The soup is good. You should try it."
I look up. I wish I could do something outrageous to wipe that smug look off his face, but I dare not. I don't know how he would react. He is not Nigel. I've never known any man like him. He is like a cheetah, wild and full of coiled power and strength. "I'm not going to eat your damn soup," I declare angrily. I lift my glass to my lips and sip at the champagne. It is cold and delicious.
He puts his spoon down and wipes his mouth on his napkin, and Gregorios comes into the room. Is he somewhere where he can see what his master is doing? Silently, he clears away my untouched dish. He leaves and the silence in the room stretches. I stare resolutely out of one of the windows at the darkness falling over the grounds. This will be my only form of defiance. I won't even look at him. I'll behave as if he is not even in the room. Gregorios comes in and refills his glass.
My stomach rumbles. I am actually hungry. My eyes stray to the bread roll on the plate to my left.
Gregorios goes out and returns with the next course.
"Pomegranate molasses glazed lamb with crispy potato bites," he says as he puts the large white plate in front of me. The lamb is pink, the edges are brown, and it looks like a piece of art.
The smell makes my stomach growl. With a determined tilt to my chin, I brave a glance at Nikolai. He catches my gaze. There is amusement dancing in his eyes. That makes me even more furious and I pick up my glass and drain it. Bad mistake. The alcohol goes straight to my head. Gregorios refills my glass.
"Is that man watching us from another room?" I ask when Gregorios leaves the room.
"No, why do you ask?"
"He seemed to know exactly when you finished your soup."
He smiles. "Gregorios knows exactly how long it takes me to finish any meal. It's why I pay him so well."
There is nothing to say to that so I take another sip of champagne. My head has started to feel a bit funny. In my peripheral vision, I see him pick up his knife and fork. Lamb is my favorite, and the aroma is making me feel ill with hunger, but I refuse to lose this battle of wills. I pretend to look out of the window, while I am actually looking at him cutting into his meat. It must be very tender because he appears to exert no pressure at all. He puts it into his mouth. I imagine it melting on his tongue.
"It's very good. You should try it," he says, and I know he is laughing at me.
"I'm not hungry," I insist coldly.
"Shame your stomach doesn't agree with you. It keeps rumbling."
I flush to the roots of my hair. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"When you faint later, I'd rather it wasn't through hunger."
My head whirls around. "Faint?"
He grins. "From pleasure."
My mouth drops open.
He cuts a piece of meat and brings the fork to my lips. Saliva starts collecting in my mouth. I want to resist. I order myself to resist. I stare at him. His eyes are silver. I see the black flecks in them. The pupils are big. It's not my fault that I am finding him so difficult to resist. The champagne. I am so drunk my head swoons.
"You can't win this battle. Evolution has hardwired humans to consume almost anything when they are hungry. You might as well eat," he says softly.
The smell torments me. More water fills my mouth. I swallow it. Damn him. My stomach growls loudly, but I won't let him win. He rests the food on my bottom lip. I let my mouth part and the meat enters my mouth. What was I to do? The meet was already at my lips. Some of its juices had already hit my tongue.
He smiles. "That was not so hard, was it? I only made you do what you were desperate to do, anyway."
I chew slowly. The meat is tender and juicy. It could even be the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. My hands reach out for the knife and fork. Damn this man. I start to eat. I eat quickly. I'm starving. I butter the bread roll and bite into it. The whole time I never look at him. Never utter a word. When I finish the meal, I lay my knife and fork down.
When Nikolai finishes his food, Gregorios returns. I thank him as he clears away my plate. He nods solemnly. Nothing in his expression betrays the fact that I have cleaned my plate.
"Was your room to your satisfaction?" Nikolai asks.
"Yes, it was fine."
"Good. Did you like Celine?"
I frown. "What difference does it make whether I like her or not?'
"If you didn't she will be replaced."
"I liked her," I whisper immediately, shocked by his coldness. Poor, eager to please Celine. All I have to do is say I didn't like her and she will lose her job for no other reason than a whim. I hope he carries on behaving this way. Then I can be certain that I will detest him by the time I leave.
Dessert is coconut chiffon cake layered with strawberry jam and served with pina colada ice cream. Well, his head of security certainly did a good job. I love coconut, strawberry jam, and pina colada. So, yay to that intrusive bastard. I lift my spoon to my lips and slip it in. Whoa … dessert in the Smirnov household is indescribably delicious. Almost divine.
"Will I be staying here for the whole month?"
"No, you will only be here when I am. Wherever I go I will take you with me."
I stop eating. "I can't leave the country. I have to go and see my dad every day. He is in hospital."
"I know. You normally go before lunch. Ivan will take you."
"I can take a taxi."
His jaw tightens. "I must have neglected to inform you that during your stay with me you will be chauffeur-driven everywhere. It is for your own safety."
As soon as I spoon the last mouthful, Nikolai stands. "Come, we will have coffee and brandy in the South Room. It has a lovely view." In spite of all the food I have consumed I still feel a bit tipsy and I stumble as I stand. His hand shoots out instinctively and grabs my arm.
My eyes fly to his face, but it is as unreadable as ever. For a second, I feel that strange magnetic pull of his eyes. Then he takes his hand away. My arm tingles and I rub the place where his skin touched mine.
He leads me to an elegant salon.
There are dusky pink couches and armchairs. I perch at the end of a couch, and Gregorios brings in the coffee on a large tray. He hands me a cup of coffee, just the way I like it. It's unnerving when perfect strangers know so much about you.
Using a silver pair of tongs, he drops two cubes of sugar into my cup. Just the way I like it. Then he serves Nikolai and slips away unobtrusively.
"Are you always so thorough with finding out the background of the people you are coming into contact with?"
"No."
My forehead furrows. "Yet it appears you have been extremely thorough in finding out my likes and dislikes."
"I wasn't planning on sleeping with them. Anyway, it is the way I am. Obsessive. When I want something, whether it is a house, a painting, a business deal or a woman, I never stop until I have it or her in my possession."
I take a sip of my coffee. "Do you often take a man's wife in exchange for his debt?"
He downs his coffee in one gulp. "Never."
"Then why me?"
"Because I wanted you."
"What if I didn't want you?"
"Don't you?"
"I love my husband."
He stands up and walks over to a set of tall doors and stares at the rolling countryside outside. "Have I once asked for your love?"
I say nothing and he turns around to look at me. "Have I?"
I bite my bottom lip. "No."
"Good. Now that we have cleared up that little misunderstanding, have you finished your coffee?"
"No."
"Finish your coffee."
I take another sip and, leaning forward, put it on the beautiful walnut coffee table. His tone makes me nervous.
Chapter Twenty
Nikolai
The sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness.
-Shakespeare
Outside it is getting dark. The daylight loving animals are settling down for the night. Like a nocturnal animal, my mind fills with anticipation.
It's time to hunt.
My back is to her, but I feel her gaze. She averts her eyes as I turn around. I walk slowly but purposefully in her direction. On my journey, I stop to flick some table lamps. Yellow light fills the room. My brain notes how nervously she shuffles in her seat.
I stop behind her. I am standing so close I can smell her. Flowers, mixed in with heady excitement and a touch of fear. I bend down until I am so close to her, my breath ghosts her neck. Her breathing becomes more pronounced. Steeling herself she turns to look at me. The look in my eyes causes her pupils to enlarge with sudden panic. She quickly drops her head. I run a finger along her pale cheek. She has beautiful skin. Smooth and cool.