Innocent in the Ivory Tower (9 page)

She recognised the voice and went to open the door. It was one of the girls from the kitchen. She merely held out an armful of supplies: some fresh clothes and her bag of toiletries.

Maisy accepted them wordlessly, then remembered her manners and thanked the girl. Jeans and a T-shirt and plain cotton underwear. Alexei had not chosen these for her. She knew him now. She also knew he was not going to be discreet about any of this.

Well, Maisy, in for a penny, in for a pound.

She emptied the toiletries bag and found bubble bath. A bath. She was going to have a bath.

She filled Alexei’s big tub, carefully hung up her dress, and submerged herself in warm sudsy water. Her spirit felt light. For the first time in a long time she felt young and desirable, and for the moment free of any responsibility except for herself. She stretched out her legs and draped her arms along the sides of the tub. Her body ached in an unfamiliar but entirely satisfying way.

Alexei had behaved as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her and she had gloried in his obvious enjoyment of her body. He had been so tender with her, putting a lie to that ‘entertainment’ crack. Yet she couldn’t ignore it. He had made it for a reason.

She sensed that, as much as he wanted her, his instinct was to push her away. Strange as the thought was, it was as if he had a wall around him. She’d felt it back at Lantern Square—how untouchable he seemed. Something had changed in the park yesterday. She’d seen the real man behind that wall when he’d hunkered down to Kostya’s level to reassure him. That same sweetness had been in the way he had removed her shoes last night. In these moments he had been reachable, human, vulnerable.

But she sensed these glimpses were involuntary. He didn’t want the closeness she sought. Even as he had kept her snug
in his arms, she had instinctively known this was as much as he was offering.

She needed to be very careful. She needed to guard her heart.

Kostya was pleased to see Maisy. He got up and toddled across the terrace to throw up his arms for his morning cuddle.

Alexei noted approvingly that a cuddle was all he required and then he was struggling to be put down. He ran back to his pedal car. Observing the child this morning, he had been aware of what Maisy had said to him last night about Leo’s absence and Anais’s inability to cope. But Kostya appeared to be a well-adjusted little boy—no signs of clinginess or insecurity. Her claims just didn’t add up. A huge part of him was relieved, but it worried him that she had lied. It didn’t align with the girl he was beginning to know.

Alexei remained where he was, with a pile of newspapers from around the world, his smart phone and a strong espresso. It was a morning like any other when he wasn’t working—except for Maisy. She had pulled up her hair into a ponytail and wore jeans and a V-necked T-shirt. He didn’t want clingy—he didn’t
do
clingy—but Maisy had taken it
way
in the opposite direction. Clearly they were pretending not to know one another. Interesting. He decided not to react to her, waiting for her to come to him.

Sipping his espresso, he idly thumbed through his schedule, lining up his phone appointments for the day.

Maisy poured herself a glass of orange juice from the buffet and approached the table uneasily, waiting for Alexei to look up, to speak, with half of her attention attuned to Maria—who must
know
. He’d turned up yesterday and this morning she was bouncing out of his bed. It was one thing to be a sexually independent woman. It was another thing to have an audience—a traditional Italian audience.

Before she sat down he half rose from his chair, his manners clearly so ingrained that even when he was ignoring her
he behaved like a gentleman. Maisy settled herself, still waiting to be spoken to. Nothing. She looked around. Maria was clearing the buffet. Steadying her nerve, she watched Kostya for a while. She was constantly aware of Alexei, typing into his phone, stabbing with his thumb, and Maisy experienced his uninterest like a well-placed kick to her fledgling sexual self-confidence. It was exactly like the aftermath of her sleeping with Dan. She had dressed in the cold whilst he had answered emails, his back to her. Except this was worse—because as she had buttoned herself up she had known she didn’t care for Dan and had no intention of repeating the experience.

This time she wanted to climb into Alexei’s lap. Her insides seemed to light up when she had his attention. Even now, as he fiddled with that stupid device, she couldn’t strip her eyes off him, was wishing he would just look up and acknowledge her. But she knew he wouldn’t. It was the equivalent of dressing in the cold.

All of her insecurities came rushing back. Maybe he had changed his mind. She might have been able to attract him but she couldn’t hold him. Her mind went helplessly back over events, trying to find the flaws in their lovemaking. Had she done something he didn’t like? Had she not been responsive enough? He had wanted her to take him in her mouth but she hadn’t felt confident enough. Maybe that was it?

She tried to sip her orange juice, but she was so tense it went down the wrong way and she ended up in a coughing fit.

Alexei looked up as she set down the glass with a bump and choked. Tears of reaction had sprung into her eyes, sparking the deeply held pain she was nursing, and more brimmed and slid down her cheeks. She swiped at her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t realise she was crying because of him. It would put the nail in the coffin of her humiliation for him to see how deeply all this was affecting her.

She pushed back her chair noisily, not looking at him.

‘Where are you going?’ He sounded genuinely surprised.

‘I’m disturbing you,’ she got out rapidly. ‘I’ll just go.’

‘You haven’t eaten any breakfast.’

He had noticed? She hadn’t thought he’d even registered her presence.

‘I’m not hungry.’ She had to get away from him. She walked blindly down the terrace, blinking rapidly.

Then she heard Kostya’s high little voice. ‘Maisy!’ And she had to go back for him.

However broken up she felt inside, she was all Kostya had. Funnily enough, he was all she had too. And as she hurried back the child met her halfway, arms extended to be lifted, cuddled, assured of her love. He was heavy, so she sank down onto the ground with him and rocked him in her arms, mustering a smile and reassuring chatter. She might be an abject failure with men, but she knew how to be a good mother to Kostya.

‘You have to leave him with me today,’ Alexei was saying. He was sauntering over, smart phone and papers abandoned, looking unaccountably edgy.

Maisy looked up, her eyes still wet so that her lashes had a starfish effect. Alexei tried to block the accompanying flash of emotion as he remembered how uninhibitedly she had given herself to him. Now she was acting as if she wanted to be anywhere but around him.

His first instinct was to reassure her, but it was clear she was carrying a bucketload of regrets. Well, tough. He wasn’t going to apologise for enjoying her body so thoroughly. Maisy was built for a man’s pleasure. Everything about her—from her wild glossy ringlets to the serious curve of her waist to the fulsome round of her bottom—sang to his libido. After too many women with borderline eating disorders, the curves and valleys of Maisy’s small yet womanly body reduced him to drooling, uncontrolled lust. He fully intended to keep her and have her again and again.

He could deal with her regrets with jewellery. It always worked a treat with women’s moods. Experience told him put a diamond pendant in the valley between those magnificent
breasts of hers and she’d soon cheer up. He’d organise Carlo to have a selection sent down tomorrow.

Except deep down he knew jewellery would probably upset her.

But for now he had a small child to wrest from her arms. A thought which didn’t make him feel particularly proud of himself. Especially with Maisy looking so incredibly vulnerable. It would be too easy to gather her up into his arms and soothe that edginess in her away. He’d played it cool this morning, aware of the staff observing them. Any other woman and it wouldn’t have mattered, but Maisy had unaccountably befriended a good many of the people who worked for him. Those seven days he had left her alone here had backfired on him. Shy as she was around him at times, she clearly had no trouble drawing other people to her and holding them.

Everyone liked Maisy. Which was fine. Except it made
him
liking her slightly more awkward. He didn’t know why, but he felt a distinct vibe of disapproval from Maria this morning. It was ridiculous. Maisy was over twenty-one, and she was a sexually active young woman—it made sense they’d ended up in bed together. He wouldn’t be fulfilling his function as a fit and healthy twenty-nine-year-old male if he didn’t drag her off to bed.

Yet that wasn’t exactly how it had been. Maisy wasn’t just some girl, and it hadn’t felt like a function. It was the beginning of something—he just couldn’t quite grasp what it was that was making him so uneasy. And this morning had been eminently worthwhile. In fact it had been a revelation.

Still, he had to separate this woman from this child, and do it with the least amount of trauma to either of them.

But Maisy was sitting there, being all that was motherly with Kostya, and it affected him. She was incredibly feminine—something he suspected was playing havoc with his usual defences in this kind of situation.

He would have had to be blind this morning not to see how relieved she was to have him confirm their encounter was not
casual. And now she was everything soft and tender, cradling the child in her arms, looking exactly like the kind of woman a nice guy would want to protect and cherish and probably marry. Hell, she had ‘wife material’ written all over her. Absolutely off-limits to a guy like him. Yet he’d gone ahead and infiltrated her affections anyway.

It was about time he made sure she understood. He didn’t want her to nurture any illusions about him. He was a bastard, and Maisy needed to understand that before she started confusing what he was offering her with happy families and swamping them both in unnecessary and dangerous emotion.

The thought assailed him that he wasn’t exactly clear on what he was offering her, and for one tiny moment he allowed himself a glimpse of just what a relationship with Maisy might look like.

Which was probably why he didn’t pull any of his next punches.

‘Maisy, if you’re worried about Maria stop it now.’

‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she muttered.

‘Maria is accustomed to female guests coming down to breakfast in a great deal less than you’re wearing,
dushka
. I wouldn’t let it bother you.’

He knew it was a brutal thing to say. Something flinched inside as he actually witnessed the moment she took his meaning. Her eyes flew to his, and then flashed away as she turned her face into Kostya’s curls.

Alexei felt cold to his stomach.
Congratulations
, he thought,
you’re a bigger bastard than you thought
.

With the rug pulled from under her, Maisy scrambled for a foothold in this strange new world. How on earth was she going to stay here with him and pretend to be okay with all this? A little voice reminded her he wasn’t
trying
to insult her—he was just telling her how it was. It wasn’t as if she’d imagined he lived like a monk, but for him to actually
tell
her she was one in a queue was probably the hardest thing she would ever
have to hear from him. Until he said goodbye. Which, clearly, would be sooner rather than later.

But the truth wasn’t what she wanted this morning. She wanted a show of affection and his hand in hers … and a little reassurance.

What she got was a man who had put in the time for sexual gymnastics first thing, but was keen to put it all behind him now the day had begun.

‘So, will you be spending the day with Kostya?’ Maisy was proud of how level she sounded—as if the waves of pain crashing over her were being deflected by a larger sense of self-preservation.

‘Why don’t you spend it with us?’

He actually sounded gentler, but Maisy couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She started when he reached down to lift Kostya from her arms, and felt a twinge of regret when Kostya went so willingly. Maisy didn’t know what to do now. She felt awkward sitting at his feet, with images of the intimacies they had shared shredding the atmosphere between them. She couldn’t go back, she realised, panicked.

‘I think I want to be alone for a while,’ she said stolidly.

Stupid girl, stupid girl, stupid girl.

She clambered to her feet, feeling ungraceful and at a disadvantage, and walked as fast as she could across the terrace, not aware of where she was going, just conscious of wanting to put some distance between herself and the rocks on which she had shipwrecked herself.

A
LEXEI
watched her go. Why had he opened his big mouth? Why hurt her like this? It had barely begun and he was tearing shreds off her.

‘Want Maisy,’ wailed Kostya, clinging to his shirt front.

Alexei looked down at the infant’s ominously reddening face. He was clearly reacting to all the tension.
I’ve stuffed this up
, Alexei thought flatly. ‘I want Maisy too,
malenki chelovek
.’

She had reached the end of the terrace and he watched her hesitate, circle, looking for a way out. But this terrace led nowhere, and the glass doors were locked. For a moment he watched as she pushed at them, and then he saw her shoulders drop, saw her shake her head and lose heart.

That was enough.

He strode towards her, watched her face come up—her pale, lovely face—strained and tense. And
he
had put that tension there.

He hadn’t meant to push her this far. He’d been trying for disengagement when all he was feeling was passionate connection. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

‘Maisy, we need to talk. I’ll hand Kostya over to Maria and then you’re coming with me.’ He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, eyes flashing.

‘You’re too late, Alexei,’ she slung at him fiercely. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.’

Kostya released a huge cry and scrambled for Maisy. She
took him into her arms, flashing daggers over his curly head. ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she breathed.

Alexei made a very male European gesture with one hand and pinned her with his incredible eyes. ‘If you want to do it in front of the boy—fine. Here’s the deal, Maisy.’

He spoke in a low, firm voice—the one she imagined he used in another life that didn’t involve crying children and emotional women who refused to vanish after sex.

‘This morning was incredible. I want to repeat it. Often. I want you in my life. Is that clear enough for you? Does that sort out the problem?’

Incredible. Repeat it. He wanted her in his life.

Maisy was sure he was wondering why she wasn’t cheering. Instead his coolly delivered words struck a flint of anger inside her. ‘I’m sure that works with all those other
female guests
of yours, but I require a little bit more finesse, Alexei, so I’m turning you down.’

‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged, and Maisy’s face fell so fast it should have amused him. It didn’t. ‘I should have dragged you back to bed and manacled you to the bedpost,’ he declared. ‘But I don’t bring women here. The handcuffs and paraphernalia are in my Rome apartment.’

Maisy huffed, trying to cover Kostya’s ears. ‘You’re disgusting!’

‘You weren’t saying that around dawn,
dushka
. How in the hell are you still blushing?’

‘I’m not used to stripping naked and bouncing around on a bed in broad daylight,’ she snapped.

‘Something that does incredible things for my ego,’ he replied complacently.

Maisy huffed again.

He gave her an arrested look. ‘You are adorable, Maisy.’

She suddenly couldn’t wrest her eyes away from his. What was it he’d said about not bringing women here?

‘We can’t have this conversation in front of Kostya. Where’s Maria?’

‘
Now
she sees sense,’ Alexei murmured, stroking the back of Kostya’s head, managing to caress the back of Maisy’s hand. She didn’t pull away.

Kostya distracted with strawberry yoghurt in the kitchen, Maisy walked with Alexei down into the garden. As they lingered before a stone fountain amidst the greenery Alexei said, in a dark, suggestive voice, ‘We could go back upstairs.’

‘I won’t answer that.’ She turned her face away, but a little smile was tugging at her lips.

‘We could do it here.’

Maisy gasped. ‘I’m not making love to you in a garden. Anyone could see.’

He smiled slowly at her. ‘You’re right. I’m very possessive, Maisy, as you’ll learn. I don’t want any other man seeing you when you climax.’

‘You’re so confident I would?’ she whispered, unsure they wouldn’t be overheard. She suddenly imagined dozens of men hiding in the bushes.

‘Would what? Wrap those lovely legs around my waist or climax?’

‘Both,’ she snapped.

‘I can’t force you, Maisy, but I can guarantee the climax.’

He was outrageous. Maisy loved it. She bit her lip. She didn’t want to forgive him so soon, but her heart was racing and her skin was prickling and suddenly all she wanted was to wrap herself around him and not let go.

But she couldn’t do it. He was going to break her heart.

He was playful with her now, attentive. But how long was that going to last? Until the next time she said no or didn’t fit in with his schedule, or demanded what she knew he couldn’t give her: a loving relationship.

She had to grow up and set some boundaries of her own.

‘I want to be with you too, Alexei. But I think it’s important to be pragmatic.’

‘Pragmatic?’ He didn’t like the sound of that, although half an hour ago it had been exactly what he was after.

‘When Kostya is settled I will need to go. It would be disastrous for him if he were to begin to think of us both as his parents—which is what would happen if … if I was in your life.’ Maisy knew she was being sensible. She knew she was putting the interests of the child above her own, and she knew he couldn’t argue with her on this. But, oh, she wished he would.

Alexei was silent. The playfulness had evaporated.

‘He can’t see us being … affectionate together in front of him,’ she elaborated.

‘Affectionate?’

‘I know it’s not really affection, I know it’s just … sex. But he’s so little he’ll just see it as grown-ups showing love to each other, as we love him, and he’ll think we all belong together.’

Alexei swore in Russian. Maisy blinked. His anger was evident, but it wasn’t directed towards her. It was strange, but she sensed he was looking inward.

‘I’m not an idiot, Alexei, I know how the world works. It’s bizarre that we even met, let alone that I’m here. I think what’s happened has happened because of the Kulikovs. We’re both grieving and it gives us a bond. We’ve been thrown together, and it was … inevitable.’

‘It
was
inevitable—I’ll agree with that,’ he replied, looking at her oddly. ‘So what are your terms, Maisy?’

The question was blunt and to the point, and it hurt.

Terms? She had no idea. ‘What—what usually happens when you’re with a woman? I mean, how does it work?’

‘I put her on the payroll and give her bonuses when she really performs.’

Maisy blinked again, and for an aching moment Alexei realised she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

‘Do you really think I’d do that? Listen.’ He stood in front of her and tugged on her hands. ‘That bed upstairs. It’s mine. I don’t bring women here. At all. Ever. This is my sanctuary.’

‘No “female guests”?’

‘Only a few, very firmly attached to their husbands. This is where I bring family.’

For a moment Maisy experienced an overwhelming explosion of belonging, even as common sense told her he was referring to Kostya. She was here because of Kostya. She wasn’t a part of this family of his. But she was his first woman here.

‘So what am I supposed to do?’ She aimed for casual, but it came out needy.

Unexpectedly his thumb pressed against the frown line between her winged brows.

‘Don’t fret, Maisy. I’ll make it easy for you. You live with me, you travel with me, you dodge the paparazzi with me. You’ll be written up as “a mysterious redhead” until they dig out your details—and they will dig them up, dirt and all. Anything you want to keep hidden you can forget about. So, any bank robberies I need to know about?’

Maisy stared at him. Surely he was joking? No, not joking. ‘Nobody will be interested in me. I’m not anybody.’

‘Everything I do seems to attract some sort of interest. I’m hoping because you don’t have a profile it will blow over.’

He’d thought about it. The realisation zoomed through Maisy’s faltering confidence and made her feel a little stronger. Alexei had considered how she would fit into his life before now. Then she remembered all the security: in London, at the airport. Only here it seemed to have evaporated. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but Alexei led a somewhat high-octane lifestyle.

What was that going to mean for her? More importantly, what would it mean for Kostya when she was gone? And she
would
go. She had told Alexei that much and he hadn’t argued with her.

It made it easier for him. It made it terrifying for her.

He slid his big hands around her waist, sitting on the rim of the fountain and drawing her between his legs so that they were on eye level.

‘Kostya is severely going to cramp our style,’ he said, with a smile in his voice.

‘No, he’s a wonderful little boy,’ protested Maisy loyally. ‘And he’s so taken with you.’

‘I agree wholeheartedly he’s a great kid. But this “no affection” rule is going to be a bore.’

‘There’s no choice,’ she said solemnly.

‘There are always choices,
dushka
. You’ve exercised yours. Can you live by it?’

Maisy swayed into him. In his world there were choices—rich men always had choices. Unless by some miracle a leopard changed his spots and he fell head over heels in love with her … no, she didn’t have a choice. She only had an inevitable outcome.

Alexei’s arms came around her and he laid his head on the soft warm curve of her breasts. He released a lovely, deep, satisfied groan.

‘What is it?’ she asked, smiling at the sound.

‘I’ve been wanting to do this all morning,’ he revealed, looking up and flashing that killer smile. ‘Your breasts are a gift to mankind. Well, to me—and at a stretch I’ll share with Kostya.’

Maisy snorted and began to laugh.

‘And now they’re jiggling. I’m in heaven.’

‘Stop it.’ She smacked his shoulder lightly. ‘You didn’t answer my question before. Are you going to spend the rest of the day with Kostya?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Can I have the day to myself?’

‘You and Kostya?’ he asked.

‘No, I agree it’s better if I’m not in the picture.’

Alexei set her back, hands linked behind her waist. ‘There’s a spa just outside of town. Why don’t you spend the day there?’

Maisy didn’t want to leave the circle of his arms, let alone go to a spa. But he was being sweet, offering her something she might like.

‘I’ll arrange it. A car will take you. What’s that crease for?’

He gently smoothed her worry line with his thumb. ‘What are you thinking now, little Maisy?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, suddenly breathless, wishing so much of this was different. If she had met him under different circumstances. If they had
courted
… Such an old-fashioned word. Maybe
dated
was better. She would have liked to be dated. Instead they’d set
terms
. ‘I wish …’

‘What do you wish?’

His voice had taken on that low timbre she liked so much, and her whole body began to speed up.
That we could be together, just the two of us, with no one else around.
‘I wish I had more clothes to wear,’ she said instead, and that was true too. ‘I think I’ll go shopping.’

Alexei’s arms released her. His expression was indulgent but somewhat cooler than what had been there earlier in his eyes. ‘Excellent decision. Shop in the morning, spa in the afternoon.’

Maisy tried not to throw herself back into his arms. She couldn’t very well pick up his hands and hold them on her waist. ‘What will you do with Kostya?’ she asked.

‘Guy stuff.’

‘He’s two.’

‘Guy stuff with training wheels,’ he amended, and Maisy couldn’t help smiling at the image. He really was trying with Kostya. It made her feel better about leaving him for the whole day.

‘Whatever you do, remember to take his nappy bag and his water bottle. I’ll pack it for you. And he needs his hat on at all times. He’s so fair he burns in a trice.’

‘I can do this.’

He suddenly looked so completely out of his depth that Maisy couldn’t help herself, and launched herself into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled the lovely male smell of him that she would keep with her for the rest of the day.

Alexei’s hands landed gingerly on her waist, as if he was
startled by her sudden missile launch of affection. ‘I’m hugging you,’ she told him, her voice muffled by his shoulder. His arms tightened around her nicely and Maisy smiled contentment.

Alexei frowned into the middle distance. He hadn’t expected any of this: the time it was going to take to build a bond with Leo’s little boy, the emotional investment. Yet what choice did he have? There were two other couples waiting in the wings to take responsibility for him; it would perhaps be the most sensible course to hand the boy over to one of them. Yet Leo had named
him
Kostya’s guardian. Leo didn’t do anything without a reason, and Alexei didn’t back down from a challenge.

But he hadn’t expected Maisy, who was presenting her own unique challenge.

The minute they’d hit the bed this morning every one of his tightly held tenets about women and sex had flown out of the window. It was probably to do with her innocence, which was playing havoc with the traditional Russian male he’d thought he’d done a good job of burying deep enough that he hadn’t thought about marriage and children and a future in years. Not since he’d made his first million and women had become easy and their expectations primarily mercenary.

Maisy, with her long glossy ringlets tickling his chest and her soft sweet mouth trading slow kisses, eyes shut, expression dreamy, as if he was every one of her fantasies rolled into one, had seemed much more absorbed in making this morning romantic than in the sort of sexual marathon it turned into. That was
his
doing. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. Her subsequent reaction to him meant he’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to realise she was investing her emotions in this, in
him
. But what was confusing him was that he was virtually
encouraging
it.

He’d put it down to the ego-stroke of having a woman more interested in his attention than his bank balance, but he knew he had to put matters on a more fiscal level. Once he was keeping her the whole aura of romance would dissolve, and the little
touches of sweetness, her insecurity about his feelings, would be smoothed over by regular cheques.