‘I could drop it into the hotel.’ Alina’s voice was a husk. Finally there was an almost legitimate reason to see him.
‘Oh, no,’ Elizabeth said. ‘He’s back in Russia.’
Stupid to expect or hope for anything else really.
No goodbye, no kiss, nothing.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known how it would end from the start, Alina told herself. After all, her first introduction to Demyan had been that teary trio leaving.
Why should she be different?
Why should she think that what they’d had had been any more?
Because it had been more, she tried to tell herself, but wavered, because in Demyan’s arms she felt beautiful and sexy and wanton, but out of them she was well above her ideal weight and as bumbling and shy as ever before.
‘Oh...’ Elizabeth continued. ‘And the real estate agent called. The painting in the bedroom—the prospective buyer wants to know the artist...’
Alina felt her heart squeeze and then stopped herself. It was Demyan, just trying to boost her confidence, trying to buy her the career that she wanted.
‘I can’t remember,’ she answered.
* * *
It was a beautiful drive, even if her heart was heavy. She remembered each bend in the road from the last time she’d been here.
And it hurt to remember,
Hurt even more to drive into the farm where she had spent that glorious afternoon with Demyan, to look over to the creek and see the green trails of the willow dipping into the water, to remember the balmy shade and the cool green light in the place he had taken her and made her his lover.
‘Alina.’ Ross looked a lot younger and a whole lot more relaxed than the last time she had seen him. ‘Thank you so much for coming. We tried ringing but we couldn’t get through.’ He led her into the house. ‘It’s a very expensive jacket.’
He probably had five hundred of them, Alina thought, but she just gave them a smile and thanked them.
‘Would you like to stay for lunch?’ Mary offered.
‘No, thank you.’ Alina forced that smile. If she stayed she’d end up breaking down.
‘Do stay,’ Mary insisted. ‘We want to pick your brains. Are you in touch with Demyan?’
‘Not really.’
‘Only we’re trying to work out how to thank him.’ Mary shook her head. ‘How do you thank someone for that, though?’
‘For...?’ Alina frowned.
‘Giving us the farm!’
Alina blinked. They clearly thought she already knew as Mary continued. ‘I got the shock of my life when I opened the door and there he was with all the paperwork handing over the farm to us—I thought it must be a mistake, but...’ Mary started crying and Ross continued.
‘Never for a moment did I expect him to do that. I remember him as a teenager, a right sullen young man he was. “There’s trouble,” I said to Mary, but how wrong I was. He’s saved us twice.’