Promises After Dark (After Dark Book 3) (19 page)

As we ride up in the lift, Andrei says to me: ‘Renata will show you to your room when we arrive. You’ll find a dress and shoes laid out for you to wear this evening. You have thirty minutes to get ready, then I’ll expect you in the ballroom. Is that clear?’

I open my mouth to protest and then I think better of it. I might be bristling at all this but I still need Andrei on side. If he wants to act out the role of my benefactor, then let him. But I haven’t asked for any of it. I don’t owe him. He needs to understand that a bargain is only a bargain if two people agree to it.

The housekeeper is waiting at the open door to the apartment as we arrive, and she greets us both politely.

‘Good evening, Renata. Please take Miss Villiers to the white bedroom, as we discussed,’ Andrei says. A butler appears from the shadows of the hall and helps Andrei take off his coat. He turns to me. ‘The ballroom. In thirty minutes. Don’t make me wait.’

‘Surely that’s a woman’s prerogative,’ I return tartly, and smile sweetly at him.

He stares at me, a tiny frown between his eyebrows. He’s not sure if I’m teasing him or not. ‘Well . . . not long.’

‘This way, please, miss,’ says the housekeeper, and I follow her up the thickly carpeted staircase to the upper floor. The white bedroom occupies a corner position, its huge arched windows overlooking the sparkling vista of Manhattan with the park dark and inky directly below. As its name suggested, everything in the room is white, every chair, cushion and picture frame, everything, including a baby grand piano with a white lizard-skin stool. I glance at it, thinking it’s rather wasted on me as I can only manage to play ‘Chopsticks’, no matter how gorgeous the piano is. This is the second piano I’ve seen in this apartment. I wonder if Andrei plays.

‘I’ll be back to fetch you in half an hour,’ says Renata politely. ‘Your bathroom is through that door. Your dress is hanging in the closet. Please call me on the telephone by your bed if you require anything at all.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, and she goes out, leaving me alone.

I look around the luxurious room and at the magnificent view. Then I go to the bathroom to take a shower.

The dress that Andrei’s provided for me is very beautiful and in exactly my size. It’s red, which seems to be a colour he likes on me: a fitted silk sheath split up the back, and demure with tiny cap sleeves but still enticing at the low neck. My arms are bare and on my feet I wear very high scarlet heels. Looking at myself in the mirror as I twist to see the back view, I have to admit it’s sexy. There’s just time to brush out my fair hair and twist it up into a chignon, and do my make-up. Then there’s a knock at the door and Renata is there.

‘Good, you’re ready,’ she says with a smile. ‘Mr Dubrovski hates to be kept waiting. You look very nice.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. Dressed in red and leaving the safety of my pure white bedroom, I feel like a sacrificial victim being taken to appease an angry god.
But I’m no victim. I’m going to make sure of that.

Renata leads me to the ballroom, the long gallery hung with mirrors and chandeliers that Laura and I visited just a few days ago. None of the chandeliers are lit – instead candles burn in large gold candelabra placed at intervals on small tables along the room. On another table by the window I see a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket beside two slender crystal glasses. There’s no sign of Andrei.

Typical! After all that nonsense he’s the one making me wait!

I walk across the polished wood floor, careful in my very high heels, towards the window. The view is simply irresistible. Along the avenues, traffic crawls, the head- and brake lights looking like festive chains of gold and red. Everything below sparkles and glitters, and the sky has cleared a little to a dark navy.

‘You look beautiful.’ I turn to see Andrei walking across the ballroom towards me. He looks extremely handsome in a dinner suit, white dress shirt fastened with jet studs, and a black silk bow tie. His shoes are polished to mirrors and I can smell the fresh lemony scent of his cologne. ‘That colour is perfect on you.’

‘Thank you,’ I say with a smile. ‘For letting me borrow this dress.’ I put a very slight stress on the word borrow so that he can be quite sure how I feel about it.

He smiles at me with a knowing look in his blue eyes. They’ve softened tonight, the ice in them disappearing and making him look almost human again. When Andrei chooses to use his charm, it’s certainly considerable. He has presence and charisma in that well-cut dinner suit and it’s hard to ignore the rippling power in his broad shoulders and large hands, or the craggy attraction of his features and those striking eyes.

‘I have something else for you. A gift.’ He walks past me to the table where the champagne is chilling and picks up a slim black box that I hadn’t noticed before now.

I walk towards him tentatively.
What now?

He doesn’t give it to me but opens the box himself and shows me the contents. I gasp. Lying on a bed of ruched white satin is a necklace of huge grey pearls, each one perfect.

‘This is not for you to return,’ he says firmly. ‘Turn around.’

I turn. The dress is cut very low behind and I realise that I’m displaying the expanse of my back to him. I give a very slight shiver at the thought. Then the necklace is lowered down in front of me, the pearls landing gentle and cool across my collar bone and Andrei pulls them round to fasten at the base of my neck. ‘There,’ he says as he releases it. ‘Let me see.’

I turn around. He looks at my neckline with a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. ‘Very good. Take a look yourself.’

I go to one of the great gilt mirrors that line the room and look at the necklace. It is truly beautiful, the pearls like smoky orbs against my skin. They gleam in the candlelight. ‘I love it,’ I whisper. I turn back to look at Andrei, who is taking the foil off the bottle of champagne. ‘But of course I can’t accept a gift like this, it’s far too expensive.’

Andrei shoots me an impatient look as he tears off the wire holding in the cork. ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep mentioning what everything costs. I didn’t expect you to be quite so vulgar about it.’

‘It puts me under an obligation,’ I say firmly. ‘You know that as well as I do. If I could afford to give you the same sort of gifts then it would be vulgar to discuss the cost. But as I can’t, it’s not vulgar, it’s honest.’

‘Whatever it is, please shut up about it because I’m not interested.’ Andrei deftly extracts the cork of the bottle with a satisfactory pop and pours out the champagne into the two glasses. ‘The necklace is divine on you, it’s how I want you to look. Now come here.’

I go back to him and he hands me a flute of champagne. ‘To our new collaboration,’ he says, touching the rim of his glass to mine with a tiny chime.

‘Our . . . collaboration,’ I say, and we both sip the fizzing liquid, our eyes still locked on one another.

‘Now.’ Andrei puts down his glass and smiles at me. ‘We’re in a ballroom so there’s one thing we must do.’ On cue, a waltz begins to play through a hidden sound system, as crystal clear as if a chamber orchestra were in the room with us. He holds out his hands to me. ‘Miss Villiers – may I have this dance?’

I stare at him then put down my champagne. ‘Yes,’ I say slowly. ‘You may.’

He takes me in his arms and pulls me close against his chest. One hand lands on the small of my back, the other hand grasps mine and holds it tightly. I’m aware of the warmth of his body coming from below his shirt and the pressure of his thighs on mine as he begins to lead me into a waltz. I thank goodness my father taught me the basic waltz years ago, so that I know how to move backwards and to the side as my partner turns and moves me. Andrei is an excellent dancer, I can tell that. I hardly need to think about what I’m doing; he makes sure that I move effortlessly with him. I catch glimpses of us in the mirrors as we pass, a couple in their elegant evening clothes moving gracefully to the music. My pearls glimmer at my neck and my skin shines white in the candlelight. This is like a perfect dream, and I can feel myself becoming lost in it. Outside the city seems lit up just for us as the music pours into the room, lifting up my spirit and making me feel like I’m flying as Andrei waltzes me around the beautiful floor.

Suddenly his mouth is close to my ear. ‘All this could be yours,’ he murmurs in a low voice. ‘I want you to share it with me. This could be our life. It could be beautiful. You’re lonely and lost, Beth, and so am I. I want a family, someone to breathe life into my world, to give me true joy. You’re that person; I’ve known it for so long. Your love would be worth having, your grace and beauty would illuminate my world. Beth . . . please . . . I want you to think about it tonight.’

I start to pull away from him but his grip is iron strong.

‘Don’t say anything now. Don’t spoil this moment. You want to resist me, I know that. Your resistance is what makes me certain you are the right person for me. Think about it. We will talk later.’

I say nothing as he turns me around the room, confused by what he is saying. I want to say no right now, so that he’s under no illusions, but this is all so dreamlike I can hardly believe what I’ve just heard. The music comes to an end, and I stare at him, breathless. He raises my hand to his lips and kisses it.

‘Thank you, that was beautiful. And now, our car awaits.’

In the hall, the housekeeper brings out a gorgeous black cashmere coat and helps me into it. I slip my phone into the pocket while she puts a wrap around my shoulders for good measure, and Andrei’s butler brings out his coat and gloves. Then we descend in the lift to the waiting car. We are driven for no more than ten minutes before we arrive at the restaurant, a place of thick linen, silver, crystal and the buzz of sophisticated conversation. All eyes follow us as we pass, and I hear the murmur of Andrei’s name. Of course, he must be famous in this city.

We’re taken to a very grand table and given every courtesy and attentive service. Andrei orders for us, and he keeps up a flow of talk as we wait for our food, telling me about the vision he has for the apartment in terms of art. He wants modern masterpieces, he tells me. And he wants some big names too. If a Picasso or Van Gogh comes up, he’s seriously interested. I listen in a daze, replying when necessary. The food comes and it’s exquisite: incredible classical French cuisine with each plate like a work of art itself. I don’t feel that hungry until I taste it, then my appetite explodes into life. The flavours are so intense that I feel as though I’m living on another level when I eat.

It’s when we’ve finished our main courses that Andrei stops talking for a while and stares at the tablecloth, tapping it with one fingertip. I watch him, a wreath of anxiety curling in my stomach. I get the impression that a crunch moment is approaching. I’ve been lured into the trap – will the door now spring shut? How on earth will I get out?’

‘So, Beth,’ Andrei says. He takes a gulp of the ruby red wine in his glass and I realise with a dart of surprise that he’s nervous. ‘You heard what I said to you in the ballroom. I want you to know that I’m utterly serious. I believe it is necessary to my future happiness to have you. I want you to create my homes and bring my family into existence. I want you to be an integral part of my life.’

‘Well, this is all very romantic,’ I say, trying to laugh and make light of what he’s saying. ‘They should take a cue from you and rewrite the marriage vows! Do you, Beth, agree to be an integral part of my life?’

His hand stops moving and his eyes spark as he looks at me. ‘Don’t joke about this, Beth. It’s very important. I’ve never been more serious.’

I stare back at him. My hands are shaking lightly and I hide them under the tablecloth. ‘You know I can’t do this,’ I say, trying to make my voice as firm as possible. ‘I appreciate what you’ve said to me – I’m flattered – but I’m not the right person for you, Andrei. You deserve someone who loves you.’

He flicks his gaze back down to the tablecloth and his jaw clenches. He starts tapping again. ‘You say this because you’re still infatuated with that snake, Stone. But you’re wrong. You would love me if you gave me the chance. You saw me at the orphanage. You know I have a warm heart, I’m a good man. You can love me. You will.’

‘You can’t force it, Andrei,’ I say gently, suddenly full of pity for him. ‘You can’t make someone love you, or buy their love. It isn’t possible.’

He stares up at me and I’ve never seen his eyes more flinty or determined. ‘It is possible,’ he rasps out. ‘I intend to make it possible. I will make life with me your only option.’

‘What do you mean?’ I can’t help the sound of fear in my voice. I know he’s ruthless. What lengths will he go to in order to make me do what he wants?

‘First you have to know that Dominic Stone is going to be utterly destroyed. I know what he’s up to and I intend to attack him in every way open to me. He will feel the might of my lawyers, the power of my network and, if necessary, the strength of my fists if he doesn’t comply.’

I stare at him, feeling truly afraid of him for the first time in my life.
The strength of my fists? That sounds very, very bad.

‘What makes you think I’ll want to be with you if you’re going to do this?’ I ask, trying to remain calm and rational.

‘If you agree to my suggestion, I am prepared to offer Stone an amnesty. You can tell him that he has until the end of the year to return to his employment with me, all grievances forgotten and some very favourable terms. After that, his chance will be lost forever.’