Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence - Shaw Chantelle - Страница 18

For the next hour or two there was no danger that she would disturb the new tenant of Kingfisher House. Shortly after Uncle Rex and Lily had left Vadim had announced that he was going to a nearby pub for lunch. She had turned down his invitation to join him, citing the need to get on with some household chores. She would spend an hour running through the piece by Debussy that she hoped to include on her next album, and after that she would no longer be able to put off visiting the supermarket to restock her fridge.

‘Do you realise you’ve been playing virtually without a break for three hours?’ Vadim’s deep voice came from the French doors, which Ella had left open. ‘Maybe longer,’ he added. He had arrived back at the house after lunch to hear the strains of Elgar drifting across the garden, and instead of a reading an important financial report, as he had planned, he’d spent the afternoon listening to Ella play. ‘It’s time to come and eat,’ he told her, when she lowered her violin and frowned at him.

‘Eat?’ she said vaguely. ‘What’s the time?’

‘Almost seven.’

‘Damn!’ Ella came back to reality with a thump. The supermarket shut at four on Sundays, her fridge was a barren wilderness, and the growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day. A delicious smell was drifting in from the terrace. She sniffed appreciatively and Vadim’s lips twitched.

‘I ordered dinner. Do you like Thai food?’

Hunger battled with the decision she’d made earlier that, for the few weeks until she found another flat, she and Vadim would lead completely separate lives. Hunger won. ‘I love it.’

‘Good.’ His brief smile broke the stern lines of his face, but she noticed that it did not reach his eyes. He seemed remote, almost sombre tonight, and for a moment she sensed an inner loneliness about him that tugged on her heart. It was gone before she could define what she had seen. His mask slipped back into place and his smile widened seductively, causing her heart to flip in her chest. ‘Come through when you’re ready,’ he invited, and disappeared back to his part of the house.

There was no reason why she should not eat with him dressed as she was, Ella acknowledged, glancing down at her jeans. But the sultry June evening provided a perfect excuse to change into the delicate silvery-grey silk dress she’d bought recently, after Jenny had persuaded her that it brought out the colour of her eyes. It took mere seconds to darken her lashes with mascara and apply a pale pink gloss to her lips, and she left her hair loose, sprayed Chanel to her pulse-points and swiftly appraised her reflection in the mirror, dismayed to find that the eyes staring back at her were as dark as woodsmoke, and her cheeks were flushed with the rosy glow of unbidden excitement.

It was just dinner, she reminded herself when she slipped out of the French doors and walked a few steps along the terrace to the second set of doors leading into the main house. Tonight she would be on her guard against Vadim’s seductive charm. She paused in the doorway, her eyes drawn to the table set for two, the tall candles in elegant silver holders casting soft light over the centrepiece of white roses. It was intimate, romantic… Ella swiftly dismissed the idea. Vadim was not interested in romance. She had thought that he wanted to sleep with her, but now she wasn’t sure about that-any more than she was sure about what she wanted, she admitted to herself ruefully. But when he walked towards her, looking devastatingly sexy in close-fitting black trousers and a fine white silk shirt through which she could see the shadow of dark body hair, her heart set up a slow, thudding beat, and she could almost touch the searing sexual electricity that quivered in the air between them.

‘You look beautiful,’ he greeted her quietly. Three simple words, but the slight roughness of his voice turned the compliment into a sensual caress that made the tiny hairs on her skin stand on end, and the gleam beneath his heavy lids evoked a slow-burning fire deep in her pelvis.

‘Thank you.’ Did that breathless, sexy voice really belong to her? When he drew out a chair she sat down thankfully, and took her time unfolding her napkin while she fought for composure.

‘Would you like champagne?’ Vadim lifted a bottle of Krug from the ice bucket, but Ella shook her head and quickly filled her glass with water from the jug on the table.

‘Water will be fine, thanks,’ she murmured, blushing at his mocking smile that told her he understood her determination to keep a clear head this evening. He trapped her gaze and she found it impossible to look away, the tension between them almost tangible until suddenly, shockingly, a figure walked into the room and the sensual spell was broken.

‘Ah-dinner,’ Vadim announced, walking around the table to take his place opposite her. ‘Tak-Sin is one of the best Thai chefs in London. I hope you’re hungry,’ he added, when the man pushed a trolley laden with a variety of dishes over to the table.

‘When you said you’d ordered dinner, I assumed it would be delivered in plastic cartons,’ Ella murmured wryly, her taste buds stirring as Tak-Sin placed a bowl of clear, fragrant soup in front of her. She smiled at the chef, who promptly reeled off the names of the dishes he was placing on the table.

‘Gai phadd prek, goong preaw wann…’

‘He doesn’t speak much English,’ Vadim explained, when she looked at him helplessly. ‘The first dish is chicken with green peppers, and that one is prawns with sweet and sour vegetables. This is some sort of beef dish-I think…’

‘Well, it looks and smells gorgeous, so I guess the names don’t matter,’ Ella said as she picked up her spoon and tasted the soup. The food was nectar to her empty stomach, and she spent the next ten minutes sampling each of the dishes with such concentration that Vadim smiled.

‘I’m glad to see you enjoy your food. Most of the women I know seem to survive by nibbling on lettuce leaves and the occasional breadstick.’

‘I guess I’m lucky that I can eat what I like and never gain weight,’ Ella said with a shrug. ‘But the downside is that I’ll probably always be scrawny and flat-chested.’

‘I would describe you as slender, rather than scrawny.’ Vadim paused and trailed his eyes over her slim shoulders and the delicate upper slopes of her breasts revealed above the neckline of her dress. ‘And although your breasts are small they suit your tiny frame. I think it’s a pity that so many young women have breast implants and end up looking as though they’ve stuffed a couple of footballs under their clothes. I definitely prefer the natural look,’ he added softly, his eyes gleaming wickedly when Ella blushed.

Trying not to dwell on the hordes of women he had dated in the past, and desperate to steer the conversation away from the size of her breasts, she seized on the first thing that came into her head. ‘I believe your company is the biggest mobile phone company in Russia, and now has a major stake in the European market? How did you start out selling phones?’

‘I actually started out selling Russian dolls. Yes, really.’ Vadim laughed when Ella looked at him disbelievingly. ‘Matryoshka dolls-you’ve probably seen them; they’re made of wood, usually about seven in a set, and they fit one inside another from the smallest to the biggest. When I left the army the political situation in Russia was changing, and in the early days of post-communism it was possible for the first time to set up a private business.’ He paused to take a sip of champagne before continuing. ‘I was working as a porter at a hotel; the wages were not good, and I was desperate to escape the life of poverty and drudgery that had been my father’s miserable existence.’

Vadim’s face hardened. ‘I would have done anything-and, trust me, there was a thriving black market operated by criminal gangs who lured young, dissatisfied men into their fold with the promise of easy money. But I was lucky.’ He shrugged. ‘At the hotel I met a German businessman who owned a chain of toy shops across Europe. One day he asked me about the traditional Russian dolls he had seen, and voiced an interest in stocking them in his shops. By that evening I had sourced a supply of dolls and negotiated a deal with Herr Albrecht to act as his supplier. That was the beginning of my career. Within a couple of years I had made enough money to be able to invest in other ventures. The gap in the mobile phone industry was waiting to be filled, and I seized the opportunity.’