‘You can be such a bastard without even trying,’ Alina hissed.
‘You want to go on the red carpet in your waitressing outfit?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then go and choose something to wear.’ The door was being opened by two burly security guards.
‘Demyan, I have no idea what to get.’
‘You had no trouble choosing the other night,’ Demyan said, opening his wallet and handing her a card. ‘Go, get your hair done or whatever. I wait for you here.’
‘Demyan, the other night...’ He waited, waited for her to tell him that it had been a dress that had been born from her own hands, but instead she shook her head. ‘It’s not just about money...’
‘It has nothing to do with money, it is what you think of you,’ Demyan said, ignoring her frown as she tried to make out his words. ‘I’ll wait here.’
Because the new casino was strictly by invitation for its opening night it was heaving with beautiful people. It was also laden with shops that Alina would never think of going into had she not had Demyan waiting outside.
First she found a bathroom and had a quick wash as she gave herself a small pep talk. To hell with being nervous Alina decided as she headed out to the boutiques and walked into the one that beckoned the most.
‘I need a dress for tonight.’
‘Did you have anything in particular in mind?’ An assistant gave a very nice smile. ‘This is just in...’ She held up what to Alina looked like a huge black cape.
‘I like colour,’ Alina said, her eyes homing in on an incredibly slinky number, the Monet of dresses—it was lilacs and greens and the prettiest of whites. It came with its own built-in underwear that tamed her breasts but did not contain them, and had small poppers in a crotch that Alina struggled to do up.
Yes, she loved colours, Alina thought as the experts dealt with her face and hair, and soon she was staring in the mirror at silver-lilac eyelids and a mouth painted pink that might look sweet were it not so wanton.
And Alina liked glossy curls.
And naming beautiful shoes.
Alina tried to decide between I-Lost-It-To-Demyan shoes, which were willow green and had six-inch heels, and Take-Me-From-Behind shoes, which consisted of heels, a single purple strap and not much else.
‘Both,’ Alina said, as she stared down at her pretty feet. ‘I’ll take both.’
He would not recognise her, Alina thought as she stepped out of the shadows and into his car.
He did.
It was the woman who had opened the door to him that night of the ball, a woman who smelt of summer and anticipation, a woman whose river ran deep for she kept her secrets hidden.
‘Tiy viy-gli-dish’ kra-see-va.’ He said what he had said the evening she had opened the door in that amazing dress.
‘You have a thing about my nipples, Demyan.’
‘I do,’ he freely admitted, but he told her the truth now. ‘It actually means you look beautiful. You did then and you do now.’