The Bad Boy Wants Me(159)

It seemed impossible. He didn’t need my money. He was a billionaire. It made less sense than a bull with tits, but no other explanation would fit.

There was a sound in the corridor.

I turned on my side, closed my eyes, made my breathing deep and slow and pretended to sleep.

Ivan came in, got into bed, kissed my forehead and lay beside me. After a few seconds his hand came to rest lightly on my hip.

‘Mmm,’ I said sleepily and curled further into myself.

His hand slipped away. For a long time he did not sleep. Finally, his breathing became deep and even. I turned over and watched him. He looked peaceful and prettier than a Tennessee Bluetick Coonhound. I felt confused and scared. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Nothing was as it seemed. Even now how I longed to reach out and stroke his thick, silky hair, but I did not. I simply watched him in wonder until dawn lit the sky.

How did it come about that unnoticed I had slipped into my enemy’s bed.



Very carefully, with my eyes fixed on Ivan’s sleeping face, I inched out of bed. Once out I stood looking down at him. I was still shell-shocked. It was incredible how completely he had fooled me.

With cat-like quiet, I lifted my tracksuit and running shoes out of the wardrobe and dressed quickly in the living room. Without making any noise I let myself out of the apartment. While I ran I tried to think. I really, really did. For a whole hour I tried, but my mind wouldn’t function properly. I kept wanting desperately to believe that I had made a mistake. There was no motive. He didn’t need my money.

He had a private plane for God’s sake.

Besides, I trusted Robert and he told me again and again that Ivan was the only one I could trust. Another voice in my head said, Robert constructed a will that left me open to Ivan’s total control. If he had not made me Ivan’s ward I would never be here and married to Ivan.

By the time I returned I was no less bewildered or shocked. Ivan was already out of the shower.

‘Good run?’ he asked, and for the first time I saw him without my rose tinted glasses. He was hiding something big. He had been for a long time, but I was so caught up with him not finding out my secrets. I never took the time to examine the things that didn’t sit right about him. It was always there, in the background and almost undetectable, but there all the same. Even now I saw it. The only time it was not there was when we were in bed having sex.

‘Yes, thank you.’ I even managed a smile. ‘Want some coffee and some toast?’

‘Yes, please.’

I nodded and went to the kitchen. I was arranging the slices of toast in the toast rack when he appeared, knotting his tie in the doorway.

‘I’ve got to run. Something’s come up,’ he said.

‘No breakfast?’

‘I’ll just take that coffee.’

I carried the mug and held it out to him.

He took a sip. ‘What will you do today?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know yet. I might go into work.’

‘Good. So I’ll see you tonight. Maybe we can go out to dinner or something.’

‘Yes. That’ll be nice,’ I said. I knew my voice sounded wooden, but I couldn’t help myself. I never was good at pretending. What you see is what you get with me.

He took another sip and put the coffee mug down. ‘Right. I’m off.’

After a quick, hard peck on my lips he was gone. I touched my lips. God! I still wanted him. What was wrong with me? What an awful mess I was in.

I took the mug and poured the remaining coffee into the sink. Almost on autopilot I opened the dishwasher and placed it inside. Still on autopilot I crossed the living room and went towards his study. I opened the door and stood for moment at the threshold.

There was hardly anything on his table, just a few papers. I approached it and glanced at them. A report about some Chinese town, a development of some kind. I went around the desk, sat on his chair and opened the drawers. The first one had odds and ends. The second had files. The middle drawer had stationery.

The first drawer on the left-hand side made me pause. It was locked. I knew where the key was. I’d seen where he hid it. I ran out into the hallway and checked a small decorative bowl. It was at the bottom. I took the key and ran back to open the drawer.

There was a crumpled letter in it. I put it on the desk and straightened it out. It was a letter from the bank. I stared at it in disbelief. It cannot be. It just cannot be. I blinked and re-read it.

Jesus Christ.

The bank was recalling one of their loans for twenty million pounds. There were other letters too. Some had been torn open and other remained unopened but they all carried the same return address. With shaking hands I slipped out the ones that had been opened. They were just more letters warning that his accounts were going to be closed, warnings about bankruptcy proceedings, and warnings of late payments.