Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence - Shaw Chantelle - Страница 34
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The fact that he had opened up his heart to her must mean something, she thought wistfully as she slid out of bed and wrapped her robe around her. His ravaged expression when he had spoken of Irina and Klara was indisputable proof that, far from being the heartless playboy she had once believed, he was capable of deep emotions. But the possibility that he could ever fall in love with her seemed as remote as ever. Vadim was tied to his past-not simply by the love he felt for his wife and child, but by guilt because he felt that he had not been a good husband and father.
Could he ever be persuaded to take another chance on love? She cast her mind over the happy times they had spent together since they had come to Antibes. The closeness they had shared had not only been in her imagination, she thought, feeling a fragile flame of hope spark inside her. They had become friends as well as lovers, and in choosing to reveal the secrets of his past to her Vadim had shown that he trusted her.
She walked down the stairs and out to the terrace, her heart clenching when she saw him sitting at the breakfast table. It was important that she encouraged him to talk more about Irina and Klara, she decided. He had kept his pain locked away for far too long, but now he had lowered his barriers she wanted to help him come to terms with his past.
‘Good morning, angel face.’ Vadim lowered his newspaper when Ella approached, and gave her a cool smile that bore no hint of the raw emotions that had overwhelmed him the previous night. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘I…yes, thank you,’ she murmured, trying to hide her confusion that he was acting as if the events of last night had never taken place. His face was once more a handsome mask, his eyes concealed behind designer shades so that she had no clue to his thoughts. She dropped into a chair opposite him, and poured herself a glass of orange juice while she assembled the words she wanted to say. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ She bit her lip when his dark brows winged upwards, and continued in a rush, ‘I realise that last night it must have been very difficult for you to tell me about your wife and little girl, but I just want you to know that I…I’m here if you need to talk some more.’
‘You mean you are offering to be…what, exactly? My counsellor?’ Vadim suggested sardonically.
The faint mockery in his voice caused Ella’s heart to dip, and she stared at him, searching his face desperately for some sign of the man who had opened his emotions to her the previous night.
‘I’m offering my support,’ she told him quietly. ‘You’ve bottled up your grief about Irina and Klara for far too long and I want to help you.’
A nerve jumped in Vadim’s cheek as he stared at Ella’s beautiful face. She was so very lovely. His eyes strayed to her pale gold hair that fell in a silky curtain around her shoulders. He had never felt as close to any other human being as he did to this woman, but his every instinct was to fight the feelings she evoked in him. He did not fear any man, but emotions scared the hell out of him, he acknowledged grimly. He bitterly regretted revealing his past to her. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, and the look of pity in her eyes made him want to weep, as if he were once again the small boy who had prayed every night that his mother would come back to him.
‘I don’t need your help, or your support,’ he said abruptly. ‘The past is gone, and no amount of talking will bring Irina and Klara back. You are my mistress, Ella-nothing more-and all I want from you is mind-blowing sex.’
Ella flinched as if he had slapped her, and she blinked hard in a desperate attempt to dispel the tears that blurred her vision. Vadim could not have made it plainer that she meant nothing more to him than a convenient sex partner. She had entered into an affair with him confident that her emotions would not get involved, but, fool that she was, she had repeated the mistake her mother had made and fallen in love with a man who did not love her. Unlike her father, who had been incapable of love, Vadim had proved that his emotions ran deep, but his heart belonged to his dead wife.
The sheer hopelessness of loving him swept over her; and with it a feeling of nausea that made her jump to her feet, terrified that she was actually going to be sick in front of him. She had felt queasy for the past few days, and had lost her appetite-classic symptoms that a migraine was brewing.
Vadim was watching her through narrowed eyes. She could not bear for him to realise how much he had hurt her and she forced a brittle smile. ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve clarified my role in your life. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take a couple of headache tablets,’ she said coolly, before she hurried back into the house.
Vadim walked into the bedroom an hour later and found Ella sitting on the balcony, apparently engrossed in her book. He stared intently at her pale face, and she was glad that her sunglasses hid her red-rimmed eyes.
‘Something has come up,’ he said abruptly. ‘I have to go to Prague for an urgent business meeting. The maid has packed a case for you. I thought we’d spend a few days there and play tourist. Have you ever been to Prague?’
‘I performed there once,’ Ella replied slowly, ‘but I didn’t get a chance to look around the city.’ She hesitated, feeling her heart splinter. Earlier, she had fled from Vadim in tears, and after an hour of soul-searching she had reached the conclusion that she could not continue her relationship with him knowing that, while he was the love of her life, his heart belonged to Irina.
Why not enjoy one last trip with him? whispered a voice in her head. She would love to go to Prague with him-but then she’d happily fly to the moon with him if he asked her, she acknowledged heavily. She had always known their affair couldn’t last, but she hadn’t envisaged that ending it would feel as though her heart was being ripped out.
‘As a matter of fact I really need to go back to London. Marcus phoned yesterday evening while you were in the shower,’ she explained, flushing as she uttered the lie. ‘He told me that rehearsals for the film score we will be recording have been brought forward.’
Vadim’s eyes narrowed on the twin spots of colour that flared briefly on her pale face before they faded again, leaving her looking like a fragile ghost. She had seemed unwell for the last few days, but had dismissed his concern, saying merely that she was tired. It was a reasonable explanation, considering that they frequently made love several times a night, he conceded. But it wouldn’t hurt to insist that she see a doctor.
‘Why didn’t you mention your conversation with Marcus last night?’ he queried.
‘I…I forgot.’ Ella dropped her eyes from his. ‘Give me ten minutes to pack and I’ll catch a lift to the airport with you. I’m sure I’ll be able to book a last-minute flight home.’
‘I told you-the maid has packed a case for you.’
The edge of impatience in Vadim’s voice exacerbated Ella’s tension, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘I need to pack my own clothes, that I brought with me.’ She paused and then said quietly, ‘I’ve been in touch with Uncle Rex. He’s found a flat big enough for me to keep my piano, and I intend to move out of Kingfisher House as soon as I get back to London.’
Vadim regarded her silently for long, tense moments which stretched her nerves to snapping point. ‘This is all very sudden,’ he drawled. ‘What has triggered this unexpected urgency to return to London, Ella?’
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a few days,’ she mumbled untruthfully.
‘Really? So every time we made love recently you were plotting to leave me?’ he queried coldly.
‘It’s time we moved on,’ Ella said desperately, when anger blazed in Vadim’s eyes. ‘Our affair was only ever a temporary arrangement, to last as long as either of us wanted it to.’ She reminded him of his words when they had first become lovers.
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