The Russian's Stubborn Lover (The Fedosov Family Series Book 1) (4 page)

As she ate her lunch, she let her feelings and loneliness take hold. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find in Russia, but she had hoped to make some new friends and have some fun. So far, the only single woman she had met was Antonia Padrov, and according to Mrs. Rusnik, she wasn’t a suitable companion.

The men she worked around were coldly polite to her at all times, and she felt as if she was intruding on their turf most days. All in all, Russia was turning out to be a very lonely place. Maybe she would go with Antonia just once to one of her nightclubs. If nothing else, maybe she could meet some other single people and make a few friends.

Resolved in her plan, and determined to not let Mrs. Rusnik’s opinion influence her decision, she placed a call to Antonia once she returned to her office. The young woman was thrilled to hear from her, “Julia, my American friend! How are you?”

“I’m fine. Antonia, I was wondering if you would be available to help show me around the town this weekend?”

“Oh, you have had enough of being by yourself. I have a suggestion, I am to attend an exhibit of art this evening. Why don’t you join me? My date has cancelled and it would be much more fun to have a friend along.”

Julia smiled, “I’d love to. Uhm… what kind of clothing should I wear?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. How about I pick you up at your office after work and bring you back to my flat? You are about the same size as me. I will play dress up with you and then we will go out. That bulldog driver of yours can have the night off.”

“Sergei? I don’t know that he minds driving me around. Anyway, I would love to meet you after work. I’ll call Sergei to pick me up afterwards.”

“That sounds fine. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Julia hung up the phone, pleased with herself and looking forward to an evening filled with adventure and people. She didn’t say anything to Mrs. Rusnik, and placed the call to Sergei herself. She told him that she was going to attend an art exhibit with a friend she had met and she would let him know when she was ready for a ride home. Julia was going to change her Russian experience; starting tonight.

Chapter 5

Julia pulled at the hemline of the too-short skirt once more, wondering how she had let Antonia talk her into wearing something so daring. The black mini-dress showed more skin than it covered, hugging her lithe frame in all the right places, and baring skin in all the others.

The backless dress was held on her body by a single strand of pearls that draped across her shoulders, and the fact that the stretchy material hugged her hips, falling only a few inches below the curve of her ass.

The dress had been impossible to wear with a bra, and her normal underwear had left noticeable panty lines. Antonia had produced a brand new black lace thong, which she had encouraged Julia to try on with the dress. Gone were the panty lines, leaving behind a feeling of naughtiness.

Julia had picked out a pair of conservative two-inch heels, which Antonia had promptly switched with a pair of four inch stilettos that made her bare legs look a mile long. She had looked at herself in the full-length mirror, mouth open wide at the image that peered back at her. She looked amazing!

“Stop fidgeting with the hem, its fine. You look gorgeous! See, all of the men are looking at you.”

Julia glanced around, blushing when she noticed that several men were openly staring at her and her companion. Antonia had on a barely there red lace number that definitely screamed – Sex – to anyone looking. She had told Julia that she was between boyfriends at the moment and was looking forward to meeting someone new at the exhibit.

Julia couldn’t imagine she would have any trouble in securing any man she set her sights on.

The exhibit was being held in one of the historic museums in the middle of the city, and as they entered the building, Julia noticed that many people were mingling in small groups, flutes of champagne clasped in their hands. White-coated waiters were carrying trays with more glasses around and Antonia quickly grabbed two of them.

“Here, drink up. They always serve the best wine at these events.”

Julia took a sip of her drink, smiling as the bubbles tickled her nose, “It’s good. So,” she said, looking around and not seeing any paintings or sculptures, “where is the art that’s supposed to be on exhibit.”

Antonia waved a hand, “See that black curtain over there?”

Julia followed her head and nodded.

“It’s behind those curtains.”

Julia wondered why, but before she could ask, a man came up to Antonia and spirited her away. “Hey, feel free to wander around. I’ll be back in a bit,” she called out as she was dragged off to the other side of the room.

Julia watched her leave, and then decided to go see the art that was being hidden away. She approached the black curtain, aware of the male eyes that tracked her every move. She had acquired the attention of several men and she nervously skirted around the curtain, coming to a complete standstill as she beheld the art pieces.

All of the people in the paintings were nude! Completely, totally without clothing! The paintings were all done in black and white, the only color in the works being that of accessories. A red rope draped across a naked spine. A blue cup being held by a kneeling woman in front of her groin, every other part of her body on display.

The pictures grabbed her attention, even as her face flamed at being confronted with such blatant sexuality. She slowly wandered from one painting to the next, stopping when she came to a picture that showed a male chest, chiseled with muscle, and stopping just as his groin hair started to appear.

There were no faces on the paintings, just bodies in simple poses, yet they drew the viewer into a world where sex, lust, and desire mixed and mingled.

Julia made the circuit around the room, noticing that only a few other people were viewing the art, and most of them were couples. When she came to the last piece, she gasped and simply stood and watched. There were two people in this picture. A male with his arms wrapped around a female.  Her hands were covering his own as his palms covered her breasts and her groin.

Rather than it looking like porn, there was a sense of need and trust in the picture the two created. She could feel the warmth of the man’s touch and sense his caring, even though the canvas was inanimate.

“You like?” asked a male voice directly behind her.

Julia turned her head to look up into the dark gray eyes of the most gorgeous man she’d met since landing in Russia – the same man from the nightclub back home. His face was tan and his black hair curled across his forehead, as if it was reluctant to stay where he had combed it. She contained her gasp, waiting for him to say something else about how their last meeting had ended, but he just watched her.
Did he not recognize her?

Julia pondered that for a moment and then decided that was a distinct possibility. Tonya had insisted on doing a makeover on her before she left for Russia and she now had golden honey blonde hair where the dark brown used to be, and had exchanged her librarian glasses for tinted contacts. They gave her eyes a lavender coloring and she loved her new look. She decided to play along as their last meeting had ended anything but peacefully.

Turning her thoughts back to his question, she stammered, “Uhm…they’re different.” Julia wasn’t quite sure how to respond. The paintings were unique and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about them.

“What do you see when you look at this one?” the man asked, turning her back around to face the painting of the entwined couple.

Julia looked at the painting and then softly answered, “Love. Caring.”

“You are a romantic, no?” the man asked.

Julia turned her head to look at him, “Maybe. They just look so involved in each other.” She glanced at the painting again.

“You are perceptive. They are indeed.”

“You know the people in the painting?” she asked, not surprised that the painting had been based upon real people. There was so much emotion in the work.

“Yes. Peterik and his wife Isaldya have been married for five years now and are just as much in love with each other as they were when they first met.”

Dmitry looked at the young woman with the golden hair and wondered where she had come from. Something about her seemed somewhat familiar, but he would definitely remember if he had ever crossed paths with the golden beauty.

He didn’t have to wait long, as he heard someone call to her and saw Antonia Padrov head their way. The supermodel from St. Petersburg was well-known by sight around the city, and while Dmitry had never dated her, she had a definite reputation. If the golden beauty standing in front of him was with Antonia, she was more than likely a model herself. And definitely the one-night stand type!

“Julia, come. Vladimir has promised to take us dancing.” Antonia gave Dmitry a passing glance; he looked very uptight and conservative. Not someone Julia needed to hang out with at all!

Julia looked at her companion and then back to Antonia before saying, “It was very nice talking to you.” She felt his eyes track her as she left with Antonia and smiled as she gave herself a silent pat on the back for having captured the attention of such a striking man.

“Who was that?” Antonia asked.

“I don’t know.  We hadn’t gotten to the part where we told each other our names before you arrived.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Antonia stopped in the middle of the room, “Would you like to go back? Vladimir will wait a few more minutes.”

Julia shook her head; she was fine with the fact that she had gained his attention. She was also relieved that she had managed to escape the encounter without him recognizing her. Even now, his nearness had started a fire in her belly, similar to what had happened outside the nightclub. Changing the subject, “Did you see what kind of art was back there?” she whispered.

Antonia chuckled, “Yes. I probably should have warned you, but I was afraid you wouldn’t come with me. Do yourself a favor, DON’T tell Mrs. Rusnik where you went this evening. She would probably have a heart attack.”

Julia laughed, “I won’t. She already has warned me off you.”

“Really? Well, that’s not surprising. So many of the women who live in St. Petersburg have these old-fashioned ideas about how a single woman should act. That’s why I love being in Moscow. It’s much more liberal and in tune with the west.”

Dmitry followed the two women out of the exhibit space, not close enough to hear their conversation, but close enough to see the swing of the blondes hips as she walked. The other woman was a well-known model and Dmitry assumed her companion must be a visiting model from another country.

The blonde woman intrigued him. He had watched her enter the exhibition and seen the look of shock on her face when she glanced at the works displayed. She hadn’t been prepared to be confronted with such blatant sexuality and he had followed her around the room, watching as her emotions travelled across her face. She was an open book, and as the sensuality of the paintings reached out to her, he had seen her respond and drawn closer to her to better gauge her reactions.

When he saw them leave with a group of young men, he realized that she was not for him. She was a party girl, not someone whom he could bring home to meet his mother or his board of directors. Thoughts about party girls brought back the memory of one such girl he had met his last night in America.

She had simply rocked his world, and he would have willingly rocked hers back, if she hadn’t teased him and then disappeared without an explanation.

Sighing, Dmitry took a flute of champagne, downing it in one gulp and then sitting the empty glass on a nearby table.

He would find a woman worthy of his affections one day. But until then, his focus must remain on the company. With the negotiations finally underway, and having seen firsthand that the two Americans who were stationed at their largest mine, he could turn his attentions to other business matters.

Mrs. Rusnik had sent him daily reports about the fine job the young American woman was doing for the company. She had also included information about how well she was adjusting to the conservative lifestyle that was needed during her stay. Mrs. Rusnik made her sound like an angel or a saint.

He left the exhibit and headed for his city apartment.  He looked forward to meeting Maria Thompson, this paragon of virtue, first thing in the morning.

Chapter 6

Julia walked into the elevator the next morning, trying hard not to move her head too much. Vladimir and his friends had insisted that she participate in a Russian tradition of doing Vodka shots. Antonia had encouraged her and told her the men would be offended if she declined.

Not a big drinker, she had felt the effects of the first shot, and by the time she had taken her third, she was drunker than she had ever been in her life.

Antonia had managed to replace the remaining shots with water, but the damage had already been done. Sergei had been called just before midnight and had retrieved a very sick American woman who was more asleep than awake.

Antonia had felt bad about her new friend’s predicament, but had soon forgotten all about it when Vladimir had suggested they return to his place. She had waved Sergei and Julia off with a giggle and quickly jumped into Vladimir’s vehicle.

Sergei had frowned upon seeing the state Julia was in, but hoped that this one experience might be enough to curb her adventures in the future.

He had helped her to her rooms and made sure her shoes were off before she fell into bed. He had then made sure Mrs. Padrov was aware of the situation and asked her to do whatever she could to mitigate the damage.

Julia had awoken to a darkened room, with Mrs. Padrov standing over her bed, painkillers in hand along with a tall glass of something sure to “fix her problem.”   Julia had taken the pills and downed the glass of what tasted like spicy tomato juice.

“I’ve closed the blinds, but you should probably start heading towards the shower if you want to be to work on time this morning.” Mrs. Padrov didn’t judge, but she did shake her head and mutter in Russian as she left the room.