The Millionaire Affair

by Sophie Weston

  Tatiana took charge of that too. ‘You’ll have to call your guests and find out if they’re allergic to anything. Then leave it to me.’

  ‘I can’t ask that of you,’ protested Lisa. She was horrified at how much work seemed to be involved.

  ‘I shall enjoy it.’ She ticked it off on her fingers. ‘There will be the picnic basket: food, champagne and nibbles for before the performance. Maybe another wine for dinner. A picnic table, folding chairs, tablecloth, candles…’

  ‘Stop, stop,’ cried Lisa in horror. ‘It sounds like a military campaign.’

  Tatiana took no notice of this feeble reaction.

  ‘And find out whether they want to go down to Glyndebourne under their own steam or not. If they do, you’ll need to send them their tickets so that they can get into the car park. If they don’t, you’ll have to organise transport from London,’ said the irrepressible Tatiana. ‘I’d think the bank would expect you to have a chauffeur-driven limousine.’

  Lisa moaned.

  But Tatiana was right. And without her enthusiastic support the whole project would have been a disaster. Especially when, out of the blue, Rob was sent to Copenhagen on Wednesday night.

  ‘Sam did it deliberately,’ raged Lisa. ‘He wants me to mess up.’

  ‘Very probably.’ Tatiana was unmoved. ‘Turn it to your advantage. I always thought you should take an escort who knew the ropes.’

  ‘You?’ said Lisa hopefully. ‘I don’t see why it has to be a man. We’re listening to opera, not reproducing the species.’

  Tatiana shook her head. ‘Believe me, you’ll be more comfortable with a man. And I know just the chap.’

  Lisa gave up. Tatiana’s advice had been a lifeline, after all.

  ‘Oh, all right. Who—?’ And then she realised. ‘No!’

  ‘Nicki and Vladi started going to Glyndebourne when they were still at school,’ Tatiana urged, hiding a smile. ‘And Salzburg and Aix. And heaven knows where else as well. Their parents were mad about opera. If anyone can tell you what to do, it’s Nicki.’

  ‘But I’ve been trying to stop him telling me what to do ever since we met,’ pointed out Lisa reasonably.

  Tatiana was unsympathetic. ‘Maybe it’s time for you to listen to what he has to say.’

  Lisa was torn. On the one hand she had promised herself that she would not see Nikolai Ivanov again. On the other she knew how much she was relying on Tatiana to help her clear the hurdle of Glyndebourne. In the end the latter won. But only just.

  ‘All right,’ she said morosely. ‘But on the strict understanding that I’m only doing it for my career.’

  Friday dawned clear and sunny.

  ‘Good picnic weather,’ said Tatiana, scenting the air professionally as Lisa shot past her on the doorstep.

  Tatiana had been outraged that Lisa intended to go to work that morning.

  ‘Glyndebourne is a whole-day project. You ought to spend the morning getting ready and relaxing,’ she’d said.

  But Lisa had laughed, and quoted the sliding Tokyo index. So Tatiana, under protest, had surrendered the dress and promised to have a car, with full picnic provided, collect Lisa at noon from Napier Kraus.

  ‘But you must be changed and ready to go,’ she’d warned.

  ‘You sound like Cinderella’s godmother,’ Lisa had said, laughing. ‘Do I turn back into a scarecrow at midnight?’

  But now she gave Tatiana an uncharacteristic hug before she dashed off to work.

  She was feeling less warm towards her four hours later. She stood in the ladies’ cloakroom and inspected herself in the mirror with blank disbelief.

  ‘Wow,’ said Sam’s secretary, pausing on her way out. Her astonishment was as great as Lisa’s own. ‘You look like a film star.’

  Lisa shook her head. ‘That’s what comes of not trying things on,’ she said grimly.

  The secretary put her head on one side. ‘Well, it fits.’ She gave a wicked grin. ‘Oh, boy, does it fit. If you let the dealing room see you in that they’ll have a collective heart attack.’

  ‘I know,’ said Lisa.

  She glared at her reflection. Tatiana had selected a slinky dress in some shot fabric, bronze in some lights, mineral-green in others. It had a long slim sleeve on one side and bared her shoulder on the other.

  Lisa had worn less than this at clubs and parties all her life. But somehow she had never felt so naked. The very thought of Nikolai looking at her in this dress made her go hot and cold to her toes.

  ‘I can’t wear a bra with it,’ she muttered.

  The secretary prowled round her.

  ‘I’ve got news for you, Lee. You can’t wear knickers with it either,’ she announced. ‘Tights maximum.’

  Lisa half turned, looking over her shoulder at her back view. The secretary was right. Lisa threw her mascara wand at the mirror.

  When Nikolai swung the big car through the narrow City streets he was not in the best of moods. He’d wanted to see Lisa again, sure. He’d been going to see Lisa again. But when he decided and with her agreeing to it. Not when Tatiana had contrived it and they both felt manipulated. And certainly not with an audience of several hundred opera-goers and Mr and Mrs Leif Haraldsen.

  He picked up the car phone and dialled Napier Kraus. ‘Can you tell Ms Romaine I’ll be there in five minutes? I probably won’t be able to park, so if she could be waiting…’

  Sam’s secretary took the message. She went back to the cloakroom, where Lisa was still trying to convince herself that she looked the same as she always did.

  ‘Your chauffeur wants you waiting on the steps. Better get going.’

  Lisa gave her freshly washed hair a last fluff up. Made sure Tatiana’s earrings were secure. Cast a harassed look at the glittering stranger in the mirror. Swallowed hard. And went.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NAPIER KRAUS had its offices in a steel and glass building with a set of steps that would have been imposing on a cathedral. Nikolai drew the rented Lexus to a halt at the foot of the marble stairs and looked up with impatience. A long-legged blonde was poised against the balustrade halfway down, but otherwise the place was deserted.

  The blonde was clearly a model. Somewhere there would be a photographer or a film crew, though he couldn’t see them just at the moment. Maybe Lisa was waiting inside for them to finish, he thought, trying to be reasonable. Well, she would have to get a move on, before the car was towed away for illegal parking.

  He put on the hazard lights, left the engine running and jumped out of the car. It was only as he ran lightly up the steps that a thought occurred to him. An unwelcome thought. He saw the blonde turn, start to come down the steps towards him…

  Lisa saw the car draw up with a lurch of alarm. There was only one person in it and he was not wearing uniform. She had subconsciously relied on the limousine driven by Alfredo. But it looked as if Nikolai was going to drive her himself.

  The Haraldsens were going straight to Glyndebourne. So that just left the two of them in the close confines of the car. All the way there. And worse, all the way back, when she would be tired and Nikolai would feel licensed to ask whatever he wanted under the liberating cover of darkness. She nearly turned on her heel and dived back into the building.

  But then he got out of the car and came up the steps. It was too late.

  ‘You look—different,’ he greeted her.

  He did not seem pleased about it.

  ‘Take it up with my style counsellor,’ Lisa said flippantly. ‘The dress was Tatiana’s choice.’

  ‘Tatiana?’ He sounded outraged. ‘But I told her—’ He stopped abruptly.

  Lisa didn’t notice. She began to move carefully down the steps. The heels on the shoes Tatiana had selected were higher and slimmer than she had ever worn before. She was tempted to grab Nikolai’s arm for balance. She resisted.

  He seemed impatient. ‘We’d better shift. We don’t want your guests to get there before us.’

  He ran back down the steps
and held the car door. Lisa concentrated hard. There was a real risk of spearing the long skirt with one of her poignard heels, and she was not carrying a repair kit.

  She thought, I bet the girls he normally takes out never move without a needle and thread and an insurance pack of safety pins. I can pretend all I like that I’m used to going to the ball, but what happens the moment something goes wrong? I will have no idea how to handle it.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said with constraint.

  As she turned to do up her seat belt the split skirt gaped from thigh to ankle. She was, he saw, wearing black tights so sheer they looked as if they would dissolve if you just breathed on them. He had never imagined her in anything so sophisticated. He did not like it. And yet—

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Nikolai with equal constraint.

  It took them nearly an hour to get out of London. Lisa conscientiously tried not to distract Nikolai by talking, though he weaved his way through the south London streets with an unconcerned expertise which suggested he had done it many times before. For some reason it made her heart sink.

  Lisa knew Tatiana had been right when she’d said Lisa needed an expert to escort her. The trouble was Lisa would rather have gone with anyone but Nikolai. He mistrusted her, and said so. He despised her, and made no secret of it. Up to now Lisa had been able to tell herself she didn’t care, because she hadn’t tried to pretend she was anything that she was not.

  But now! Every single thing about her was pretence. From the sophisticated clothes to her role as official host, she was playing a part. And it was a part he would see right through. Because Nikolai Ivanov was the real thing.

  So when she sat silent beside him, it was not entirely out of concern for his concentration.

  She thought, He’ll know I’m a phoney. Because I am.

  Eventually they were out of the suburbs and the signposts were saying Brighton. Nikolai increased speed. He glanced at his passenger. She was still preoccupied—and not very happily, he thought.

  Lisa was different today. It was not just the clothes, though they changed her almost beyond recognition. The sophisticated dress made her look taller, more poised than he would have imagined possible. But it was not the dress or the shoes or Tatiana’s amethysts. It was her quietness.

  This was not the woman who had glared at the unknown man on her doorstep, who had had no compunction in screaming at the top of her voice in the street to get rid of him, who argued and challenged and infuriated him at every step. This was a stranger.

  It felt wrong. Nikolai was puzzled at how wrong it felt. They were not strangers now.

  He said slowly, ‘I feel as if I ought to be polite to you.’

  Lisa winced. Phoney her mind screamed.

  To disguise her unease, she said sharply, ‘Why change the habit of a lifetime?’

  Nikolai relaxed. Welcome back, he exulted. But silently.

  ‘It isn’t a lifetime. It only seems like it.’

  ‘Then why don’t you go back to France? Then you won’t have to endure me any more.’

  ‘Not until I’ve got what I came for.’

  Lisa shrugged. ‘Well, don’t force yourself to be polite on my account. I’m not used to being buttered up. It just makes me uncomfortable.’

  Nikolai glanced down at the gleaming gold hair. A faint scent of apple blossom seemed to rise as she shook her head. It was a fresh, innocent perfume, totally at odds with today’s image.

  Amused, he said, ‘You are a complete chameleon. I can’t think of one single thing that would make you uncomfortable.’

  ‘But you don’t know me very well,’ said Lisa with desperate honesty.

  He didn’t notice. He gave that sexy laugh and said, ‘I know you better than you think.’

  The trouble was he believed it.

  Oh, boy, am I in trouble, thought Lisa.

  She said, gabbling, ‘Look, I’ve never been to Glyndebourne before. I could make a real fool of myself.’

  But even that didn’t seem to warn him.

  ‘Yes, Tatiana said,’ he agreed calmly. ‘Don’t worry, there’s a first time for everything.’

  She looked up in sudden suspicion. But his expression was innocent and his eyes were on the road.

  ‘So brief me,’ she said, after the tiniest pause.

  Nikolai bit back a smile.

  ‘Well, the house is in the fold of three hills. It is very old and beautiful, and the garden is like the best sort of English cottage garden but on a grand scale. Originally the opera house was built in the old stables, I think. But these days there’s a new auditorium with wonderful acoustics.’

  Lisa shook her head. ‘It’s a crazy place for a theatre.’

  ‘Quite. That’s why the operas always start so early.’

  Lisa had memorised the details. ‘The ticket says half past six.’

  ‘That’s because it’s Janácĕk, and relatively short. Mozart can start as early as five. They break everything into two. Halfway through there’s a supper interval of about an hour and a half. There are several restaurants where you can eat but traditionalists prefer a picnic in the gardens.’

  Lisa sniffed. ‘We’ll have to eat fast,’ she said, thinking of the list of provisions that Tatiana had insisted were necessary.

  Nikolai laughed. ‘When I first came we used to bring a bottle of champagne and a simple salad. Now everything is more elaborate—and very expensive.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Lisa. ‘The bank buys tickets every year. But normally no one below the Management Committee gets to take the guests along.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Nikolai said drily. ‘I’m afraid it’s become rather smart. Hence the dinner jackets and champagne.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘But it’s worth it for the music. Six weeks’ rehearsal and some of the best young singers in the world. That’s as good as opera gets.’

  Lisa shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t say anything, but Nikolai picked up the message clearly enough.

  ‘Don’t like opera?’

  ‘Well, I’ve only seen one,’ Lisa admitted. ‘It drove me crazy.’

  He didn’t laugh at her. ‘Why?’

  ‘They kept singing about stuff instead of getting on and doing it,’ she said honestly. She sent him a defiant look. ‘OK, I’m an oik. I can’t get worked up about things that have nothing to do with real life.’

  Still he didn’t laugh at her. He just nodded, as if she had said something completely reasonable.

  ‘You’ll find this evening’s opera is real life, all right. It’s about a woman married to a weak man whose life is made hell by her mother-in-law.’

  Lisa detected a put-down. ‘I suppose you know it backwards,’ she said resigned. ‘Well, go on, then; tell me the story.’

  ‘That’s about it. Katya Kabanova is very gentle and well behaved. But her husband turns out to be an alcoholic who is completely under his mother’s thumb. She hates Katya, who falls in love with another man, gets caught in a thunderstorm, decides it’s a punishment and drowns herself in the Volga.’

  ‘Cheerful.’

  ‘Well, Katya doesn’t have your resolution,’ Nikolai said, his lips twitching. ‘I can’t see you letting the mother-in-law bully the life out of you.’

  Lisa looked at him suspiciously. ‘You buttering me up again, Boris?’

  Nikolai looked genuinely taken aback. Then his eyes began to dance.

  ‘Not at all. She abandons herself to love, Katya. Even believing that it will end in death. I don’t see you doing that either.’

  ‘Love!’ said Lisa scornfully. ‘The only thing it ends in is a great big pie in the face.’

  Nikolai’s shoulders shook. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ He negotiated a roundabout, then said airily, ‘Oh, by the way, you should be prepared. The man she’s in love with—’

  ‘Well?’ said Lisa.

  ‘He’s called Boris.’

  And his laughter bubbled over.

  There was a moment’s silence. Lisa stared at him in disbel
ief. Then her shoulders, too, began to shake.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘True, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That will teach me,’ said Lisa ruefully. ‘I won’t call you Boris again.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘I could have called you that in front of the Haraldsens. Then the opera might have made them think there was something more than business between us.’ She began to laugh again, but her laughter was hollow. ‘Oh God, I’ll be lucky if I get through this without dropping a king-size clanger.’

  But all went like clockwork. Entirely because of Nikolai’s smooth stage management.

  They reached the Elizabethan house mid-afternoon. Nikolai tucked the picnic basket under his arm and walked her briskly into the grounds. They went through an orchard, where they were warned not to step on the wild orchids and, while Lisa was still reeling from this extraordinary instruction, he steered her past bowers of early roses and a walled garden to a long, shimmering lake.

  ‘It’s like one of those paintings,’ Lisa said. Simple delight had made her forget how uneducated she was in comparison with Nikolai. ‘Beautiful ladies in pointy hats picking golden apples in Paradise.’

  One eyebrow flicked up in surprise. ‘Well, a hat wouldn’t go down well with the people behind you in the theatre,’ he said drily. ‘And only a vandal would pick anything. But I get your drift.’

  He gave her a smile so sweet that Lisa blinked. Then, awkwardly, smiled back. Maybe he wasn’t going to put her down after all.

  ‘Here,’ he said, depositing the basket under a willow. ‘Wait for your guests and I’ll get the rest.’

  So, by the time the Haraldsens wandered up, the picnic table was set, the champagne open and Lisa was stretched out in her canvas chair gazing dreamily up through the willow’s golden-green branches. She gave the Haraldsens a wide, lazy smile.

  ‘Isn’t this perfect?’

  Bees hummed.

  ‘It surely is,’ agreed Leif Haraldsen, helping his wife to champagne and one of Tatiana’s cheese straws. ‘It was real good of you to step in like this, Lisa.’