The Lion in Russia

by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  “You can’t let me eat another one of these,” Vries said as she all but inhaled her fourth blini. The tart sour cream provided a delicious counterpoint to the piquant nuttiness of the buckwheat in the tiny little pancakes. With the addition of the salty smoked salmon, Vries felt she’d died and gone to culinary heaven.

  Leo grinned at her, showing an amazing set of bright white teeth marred only by a slight overlap of the first two. “I can’t imagine anything more erotic than watching you eat. I think you’re giving me a fetish.”

  “Yes, but you saw how I have to pay for such indulgences.”

  He shuddered in mock horror. “I can make it worth it.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  Leo sat back with a frown. “Is that what they say? Who are they?”

  “What?” Vries said, totally distracted by the blinis still attractively arranged on a platter his cook had placed on the table. The dining room of Leo’s palazzo was enormous with a table large enough to seat people well into the double digits. As there was only the two of them Vries wondered why they couldn’t just eat in the kitchen, but apparently that wasn’t done. Instead she and Leo sat together at one end of the outrageously long table. The ornate gilded table and lavish Venetian glass mirrors rendered an air of opulence designed to impress. Vries, however, was far more interested in the food.

  “You said, ‘That’s what they all say,’” he said quoting her.

  “Did I?” Vries frowned. “I have no idea what I meant. Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters. I saw you with all those men around you last night. They call you The Goddess of Milan.”

  “Good grief, Leo. You’re not jealous are you? They’ve called me that since I was a girl forever ago. Besides you don’t have anything to be jealous of. It’s not like we are in a relationship or anything.”

  “I realize that and would like to rectify it.”

  Vries picked up her mug of strong Russian tea. Pasha served it all day long and Vries had developed a definite taste for it. “As you said last night, but right now I don’t really want to talk about it.” She picked up another blini. “I just want to enjoy your company as much as possible.”

  “I have no objection to that as long as getting to know me includes you being in my bed.”

  “You don’t let up do you?” Vries said as she took a bite out of the blini.

  “I didn’t get where I am today by letting up. I doubt you did either,” he said.

  “Clarise Johnson from Dawsonville, Georgia?”

  “You changed your name?”

  “Of course I did. You forget, I came out right after Tyra and Naomi, not to mention Cesaré. Clarise wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to be different, exotic. Nobody knew where I was from, at least not until I opened my mouth, but a dialect coach fixed that. No, letting up was never an option. I had to build Vries St. John from the ground up.”

  “As did I. I think that’s part of my attraction to you. You’re a woman who understands what it is to work hard to create something out of nothing. We were born in a world where no one had any expectations of us. I could have wound up a drunken longshoreman like my father. Certainly no one expected anything more.”

  Vries nodded. She’d felt that fellowship with him as well.

  “So now some things in my life are changing, and I refuse to wait any longer to be with you if it can be helped,” he said.

  “What’s changing?”

  “I will have to return to Russia in a couple of weeks to take care of a…business problem. It will probably be a while before I can return.”

  Vries took another sip of tea. And that was probably as far as he would go in explaining what was going on in his life. For a moment she was tempted to push the issue, just to see his reaction, but really there was no point. After all, she already knew far more about his business than she was entitled to know.

  “So basically you want to have a fling for a couple of weeks before you return to your life in Russia?” Vries asked. She had no idea why the suggestion hurt so much. She knew what was going on in his life. Still she hated the idea of being his short-term fling.

  “I never said such a thing. I’ve been wanting you for a long time. It never seemed the time was right. If I come back…when I come back from Russia I want to take up where we leave off.”

  If he came back…she shivered at the bleakness of his tone. Obviously he had revealed more than he intended, but she decided to ignore his slip of the tongue. “That being the case, I don’t see why this can’t wait until you return. After all, we’ve waited this long.”

  He pursed his lips, then shook his head with a quick snap. “You’ll just have to trust me when I say it can’t wait.”

  Vries inhaled sharply, then covered it with a cough. He knew exactly how dangerous his situation was and he didn’t expect to return from Russia. Then why the hell was he going? With his money he could afford to live pretty much anywhere. Hell, with his money she could think of several entire countries he could have just for the offering. Then she thought about what Lelia had told her; patriotism. Apparently he really did love his country. Enough to die for it. Well, that changed everything. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them the decision was made. Yes, it was unprofessional and Lelia would like have her head for it. Deringer would have a fit as well, but no way could she turn him down. And damnit, she’d keep him alive too.

  “In that case, then yes getting to know you better does include sleeping with you.”

  “Thank God,” he said casting his eyes heavenward. He looked down again with hopeful eyes. “Today?”

  Vries had to laugh. For a moment there he looked like a boy turned loose in the candy aisle. And just that made losing her professional scruples worthwhile. “Of course not today, Leo, I’m due at a shoot in less than two hours.”

  “Ah, I’d forgotten.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” she said.

  “I could come with you.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s for Girasole, remember? Pasha might be there.”

  He shrugged, then made a dismissive gesture. “You worry for naught. Pasha and I…”

  “I know. You’ve been divorced for ten years. You’re business partners. You’re the best of friends.”

  “We’re Russian. In Russia these things are understood. Pasha and I are more like brother and sister,” he said.

  “I would certainly hope not, even in Georgia we don’t cotton to marrying your sibling. Either way, I’m not Russian, and where I come from we keep our ex-wives and our potential lovers separate. There are a lot fewer dead bodies to bury that way.”

  He rolled his eyes heavenward, but changed the subject. “I’ll have Pushka drive you to your appointment.”

  “No, I can take a taxi, it’s not far.”

  He shook his head firmly. “I insist. It would be bad for my reputation for a young woman to be seen leaving my house at this hour in a taxi. Never let it be said I’m not a gentleman.”

  “Somehow I doubt you care about such a thing, besides I doubt anyone is up at this hour besides us and Pietro.”

  “There’s a first time for everything. I’ll have Pushka take you.”

  “In that case I have time for another cup of tea,” she said.

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  “You know when you said you wanted to spend the next two weeks with me, I didn’t think you meant literally. At this rate I might as well move in,” she said shaking her head.

  He smiled. “I was going to suggest it, but thought you’d never agree. I will give you an extra key before you leave. Would you like for Pushka to pick up your things at your place?”

  Vries took a deep breath, staring at him. For a moment she couldn’t even form words. Of course, she’d wanted things to work out this way. It would be far easier to guard him if they spent as much time together as possible. Still, it would be all too easy for this man to go to her head. Certainly he’d already gone to her girly bi
ts.

  “You have got to be kidding.”

  “Too soon? I’m not all that well-acquainted with courting rituals, especially across international lines.”

  “I doubt there’s a country where people move in together after their first date. At least none I know of. Besides, I doubt you pay any attention to any expectations to begin with. Something tells me you do as you please and to hell with the consequences.”

  “And you would be correct. Unfortunately, sometimes those consequences can be more than what one anticipates,” he said looking away from her.

  She knew immediately they weren’t talking about dating anymore.

  “I have no idea what time my shoot is over. But yes, if you want to deal with me when I’m tired, hungry and cranky, by all means come on by. But only if you bring food.”

  Vries let herself into her flat, her hands trembled so much for a moment she fumbled with the key. Not for the first time she wondered why she’d agreed to meet Leo tonight of all nights. Miralena took the most amazing photos of anyone working today. She had an ability to make any model look positively angelic. Which was a good thing because she was without a doubt a spawn of Satan with a camera. An absolute slave driver, the woman didn’t stop shooting until she’d dragged every bit of soul, humanity and even life a model had out of her, and captured it for posterity. Vries thought about taking a shower before Leo arrived, but instead dropped down onto her overstuffed love seat. She leaned her head back against the cushion. Just one moment, then she’d get up.

  Vries awakened to her doorbell. She was disoriented for a moment then realized she’d fallen asleep on the chair. Jerking awake had wrenched her neck.

  “Just great, as if I didn’t already have enough aches and pains,” she muttered as she walked to the door.

  Leo leaned against the jamb, looking debonair as usual, a bottle of wine in one hand and what looked to be a carryout package from her favorite restaurant in the other hand.

  Vries reached out to take the package and backed into the apartment, but not before a jaw cracking yawn nearly split her face.

  “You look done in,” Leo said, closing the door.

  “That’s because I’m done in,” Vries said as he followed her into her small kitchen.

  “That photographer is a barbarian. It’s nearly midnight for God’s sake. I’ll tell Pasha to stop using her,” he said.

  Vries paused in mid-stride, so horrified by the notion that she momentarily forgot her exhaustion. She turned to Leo with a gasp. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Miralena is the best. It’s unheard of for her to agree to work with a model my age. I’m very fortunate that she would even consider working with me.”

  “For God’s sake stop talking about yourself as though you’re in your dotage.”

  “In modeling years I am well past my prime. Those are the facts. I have to hold onto these gigs for as long as I can. Turning down legends like Miralena, no matter how much of a tyrant she is, could be the final nail in my coffin.”

  Leo stood back examining her face. Vries knew exactly what he saw. She’d scrubbed her face clean of all the heavy makeup before she left the studio where the shoot had taken place. Experience had taught her to get it off as quickly as possible to avoid nasty breakouts. She was probably shiny from the lavish use of moisturizers after the deep cleansing. This was definitely not the face she presented to the world, but right now she was too tired to care.

  “Why don’t you take a shower while I warm this up? It’s just soup and salad, it’ll wait.”

  “That sounds good,” Vries said around another yawn as she placed the food on the small bistro-style table in her kitchen.

  Vries padded back into the kitchen following the delicious aromas emanating from therein. Tired though she was, she was beginning to realize she was even hungrier.

  “Have a seat,” Leo said gesturing toward her small bistro style table. “I just finished warming it up for you. Would you like some wine?”

  “No, water would be fine,” Vries said walking over to her small refrigerator. She pulled out a bottle of water and after offering it to Leo who took it from her hand, she pulled out one for herself. She sat down at the table as he placed a steaming bowl of minestrone in front of her. The delicious aroma was enough to reanimate a corpse let alone one bone-weary model.

  She waited until he was seated then dug into the soup with vigor. After a moment she realized he wasn’t eating and looked up, her brows raised in inquiry.

  He flashed his blinding white smile. “Fetish.” Then he began eating his salad, which reminded Vries that she hadn’t touched hers. She quickly rectified that lapse and dispatched a delicious kale salad with the same enthusiasm she’d had for the soup.

  “How did you know my favorites?”

  “I simply asked them what you liked. You’re something of a celebrity in this neighborhood.”

  Vries took a long drink of water, then waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve known Benito forever. When I first bought this apartment I used to eat there every night. I’m not much of a cook, but I do love good food and Benito’s minestrone could make a vegetarian of me.”

  “So he told me. I think you have a fan there.”

  After clearing the table they moved into the living room. The flat was tiny and Vries had opted for a large love seat, as a sofa would simply not fit. She curled up on the chair with her head resting on her chin. Despite its small size she loved her flat. The tall windows let in lots of light and she had decorated entirely in white and soft neutrals. Her life was so hectic that she wanted to have her home as a quiet haven to return to. The pale colors soothed her senses and helped her relax.

  “How long have you lived here?” he asked.

  “In Milan or in this flat?”

  “Both,” he said taking her feet into his hands. Vries all but melted into a puddle of warm goo as he kneaded out the agony left by hours in impossibly high heels. How did he know just where to touch? Of course he would. He had an entire stable of young socialites at his disposal. The sobering thought almost made her pull her feet away. Almost. Instead she focused on answering his question.

  “I moved to Milan when I was fifteen to model and for the most part I never left. I bought this flat about five years ago. It’s important to make strategic investments in this business.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but something tells me you’re very careful with your money.”

  “I haven’t always been, but my days of running amok with my cash are long over. Contrary to popular belief, all models don’t have rock stars and billionaires waiting around to sweep us away from all this,” she said with an encompassing gesture around her apartment. Then she realized what she’d just said and her thoughts came to a stuttering halt. He was bound to think she was fishing. Either he wasn’t as astute as she thought he was, or maybe he was more polite, because he ignored her faux pas.

  “I think your place is charming.”

  “I love it madly, but it doesn’t hold a candle to yours. Still, it’s just the kind of place I dreamed of living in when I was a girl.”

  Leo continued to rub her feet and Vries snuggled more deeply into the cushions of the loveseat. The steady motion accompanied by his deep voice was almost hypnotic. Before long she came half-awake as he lifted her in his arms. She tried to protest but was totally incapable and he carried her into her bedroom. After turning back the linens he lay her down, and pulled the covers back up to her chin. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

  “Dream of me, Vrieshka,” he said.

  Vries gave up trying to awaken and submitted to the insistent pull of unconsciousness. Just before she drifted off entirely she remembered that she was supposed to be guarding him. She probably should have invited him to stay, but she was pretty sure she’d see him again tomorrow.

  Leo turned turned to switch off her bedside lamp, but halted when Vries sighed in her sleep and snuggled down more deeply into her pillow. Fortunately she had put o
n pajamas after her shower so he didn’t have to undress her, though it certainly would have bee no hardship. He smiled at the wild mass of her hair all over the pillow and reached down to push it out of her face. It was soft and fluffy as he’d always imagined it would be, and he stood there while it coiled around his fingers much the way its owner had wrapped herself around his heart; strongly, irrevocably but with soft silken bonds he had no desire to resist. He was pretty sure she didn’t normally sleep with it unbound and all over the place this way. It would surely keep her awake getting caught under her head.

  She smiled in her sleep, a curve in a pair of lips that already kept him awake nights. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to move his hand from her hair enthralled by its sensual allure. More than anything he wanted to stay with her, curl up with her under the silky white linen and spend the night brushing her hair out of his face. He shrugged, and why shouldn’t he? It would be easier to simply spend the night than to rush to try to catch her in the morning.

  And with that very weak argument, he stepped back into the living room to make a brief phone call. Pushka would return in the morning with a change of clothing. Then he returned and quickly undressed down to his briefs and t-shirt. Before long he was exactly where he’d dreamed of being for months, in bed with Vries. It didn’t take him long to realize that she liked to take up the whole bed, she turned to sprawl against him, one arm spanning his chest, while a leg crossed his body at mid thigh. And just as he’d predicted, that wild honey-scented hair was spread all over him like the silky furs native to his homeland. With those thoughts lingering in his mind, Leo drifted off to sleep.