Nothing would be easier than resuming, but it would be both foolish and cruel to do so, Demyan decided.
He would not be getting closer to Alina.
In fact, he would prefer her gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DEMYAN WAS AT his sulking best the next day and pretty much ignored her. By Friday afternoon Alina was, at first, grateful to escape to the penthouse to ensure that every detail was right for the royal visit.
‘I should be back around two or three,’ Alina said as she collected her bag from beside her desk.
‘Don’t worry about coming back,’ Demyan said, ‘given that you have to be there for the inspection tomorrow.’
‘I still have to let the casino know about tomorrow night and there’s—’
‘I can manage my social life, Alina,’ Demyan said. ‘I’ll see you Monday.’
And therein lay the problem.
It was what happened between now and Monday that dictated their future.
Yes, it fazed her.
No, she hadn’t seen it all before.
And to read about Demyan’s wild weekend in the Sunday papers, to walk in on a working day to the aftermath of a decadent time was not something her heart could return from.
‘Demyan—’
‘I’m busy.’
It should be nice to take her mind off things, except nothing could take her mind off him and the afternoon they had shared. She wasn’t foolish enough to think it could last for ever, she just didn’t understand how it had died before they had even reached the car. Alina simply didn’t understand how you could move from being so close one minute to complete distance the next.
Did she regret sleeping with him?
Never.
She simply didn’t understand.
Alina stared at her painting hanging on his wall and then stepped back, wondering if her work really belonged in a multimillion-dollar penthouse.
‘Wow!’ Libby said as she walked in.
‘Too much?’
‘No, that’s much better.’ Libby said. ‘They’re coming through at nine, so if we get here at seven, I’ll tee up the florist and the domestic to give it a final once-over. Please let me get someone in to tidy that bedroom.’
‘No.’ Alina shook her head.
‘They’re royalty!’ Libby persisted as they headed up to the garden terrace, but her voice trailed off as they got there.
It looked spectacular. The pool was as blue as the sky, it truly was an oasis in the skyline, it felt as if you were floating on a very low cloud.
How could he bear to leave?
She just stared up and closed her eyes and felt the warm sun and breeze on her skin and she truly didn’t know if she was respecting Demyan’s superstitions or secretly hoping that a guitar and a few wrappers would put off prospective clients, because if it sold tomorrow, it was over. Demyan wouldn’t be staying to oversee the selling of the farm, that was loose change to him.