“Good evening.” Something about his expression made me blush, even though I had every right to be here. For all he knew, I was assisting Roman in some capacity. He continued through the room, and I followed on his heels.
Roman came down the steps a few seconds later. “Hey,” he said in his rich voice. A white T-shirt hugged the muscles of his torso. Soft gray sweatpants hung low on his hips. The casual clothes and day’s growth of beard gave him a youthful air.
“Hi.” Static electricity crackled between us. Once again, we were standing on the edge of uncharted territory. He extended a hand. I hesitated. If I accepted, we’d be breaching the fragile boundaries of our work relationship. Then again, we’d already broken all the rules. “Um, what about them?” My fingers slid between his at the same moment the kitchen staff bustled into the dining room, trays of aromatic food in their hands. They nodded in greeting, their gazes sweeping over our clasped hands, rife with judgment.
“It’s okay.” With a proprietary tug, he pulled me into his side. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of our clothes, awakening all the cells and synapses in my body. “It’s not their place to question my actions.”
At the quizzical lift of his brows, I rolled my lips together and tried to explain. “You’re the employer. You don’t have to worry about what your employees say. But they will talk among themselves, and it could undermine my working relationship with them if they think I’m screwing the boss.”
“I see.” He nodded but didn’t release my hand, pulling me instead toward the dining room.
“No, you don’t see.” I balked.
“I’ll take care of it. You worry too much.” With another tug, he escorted me toward the food.
The dining room was situated on the corner of the apartment, at the intersection of two perpendicular glass walls, providing a one-hundred eighty-degree view of New York City. Dozens of tiny candles illuminated the space, their flames reflecting off the windows and bathing everything in golden light.
“This is lovely,” I said. My hands began to tremble. I was really doing this. Once I crossed the threshold from employee to date, there would be no going back. Did I really want to risk my future and my aunt’s for a fling? His fingers closed tighter around mine.
“Relax. It’s just dinner,” he said.
“Right.” A brittle smile stretched my face. No matter how badly I wanted to believe him, the risks remained real. If anything went wrong, he’d continue with his perfect life, and I’d be left with ruined professional and personal reputations.
“Rourke, look at me.” Using his thumb and forefinger to capture my chin, he tilted my face up. His eyes were soft, blue, and sincere. “Nothing will happen between us unless you want it to. You’re in complete control.”
The soothing tone of his voice eased my anxieties. When I nodded, he dipped his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. He tasted of mint, his mouth relaxed and pliable. As I breathed in his spicy cologne, a sense of calm washed over me. Although the odds were against us, if this relationship worked, it would be worth the risk. He was worth the risk.
“Kate. Michael.” At his call, the maid and chef appeared in the doorway. “You’re dismissed for the night. Thank you. Have a good evening.”
They melted into the shadows of the apartment, leaving us to dine in solitude. Roman made casual conversation, asking questions about my childhood and my relationship with Everly. After a while, it was easy to forget that he was one of the wealthiest men in the world. Without his power suit and briefcase, he seemed like a regular guy.
After the second glass of wine, my inhibitions began to relax. “I’ve told you all about myself, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“I doubt that,” he said, eyes sparkling.
“Okay, I may have done a few Google searches on you.” A blush burned my cheeks. “But Wikipedia doesn’t have much to say beyond the basics.”
He shrugged, pausing to top off my wineglass before continuing. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about your childhood.” A shadow passed across his face. I bit my lower lip, wishing I could take back the request. “You don’t have to.”
“No. It’s okay.” After a sip of wine, he swirled the liquid around the glass and stared at the contents. “My parents fled their country in the middle of the night, in the midst of a revolution. Ivan coordinated the escape. We split up. I went with Ivan, while my parents took a different route. My parents never made it. At the border, insurgents beheaded them both. Ivan smuggled me into the United States and placed me with Nicky’s family. I grew up under an alias, my identity kept secret, until the regime fell from power and the threat of danger had dissipated.”
My heart ached for his loss. I placed my hand over his and squeezed. “Is that why you can’t go after Milada?”
He nodded. “There are still people over there who would love to have my head. Claudette knows that.”
“But you had a happy childhood?”
“I did. In fact, I had no idea I was born a prince until I turned fourteen. My adoptive parents wanted me to grow up as normal as possible. They gave me unconditional love and all the opportunities I could ever ask for.” His palm slid over mine, our fingers entwining. “Aside from the untimely deaths of my parents, I have no regrets.” He shifted in his chair before bringing my knuckles to his lips. “I haven’t spoken to anyone about it in years. It’s in the past.” Another kiss to my hand made my nipples tighten. God, he was glorious like this, unguarded, relaxed, and attentive. His eyes met mine, and I clenched my thighs together to stave off the ache of desire. “I’m more interested in the future—in us.”
Three weeks later, I had to fight back a goofy grin as I waited for Roman in his study. We’d spent the days working together. On the evenings where he didn’t have business obligations, we watched movies in his theater room, holding hands and making out like teenagers. The evenings had left me wanting more—more kisses, more handholding, more Roman.
“Good morning, Ms. Donahue,” he said, approaching with Ivan on his heels.
“Good morning, Mr. Menshikov,” I replied. Our eyes met, and his face lit up with a genuine smile. The unexpected pleasure of it hit me low in the gut. I smiled back, aware of Ivan’s speculative gaze bouncing between us.
Roman paused to run the back of a finger along the slope of my cheek. “I’ll be flying to Edinburgh on Thursday. Make the arrangements, would you?”
“Already done,” I replied.
“And see if my table at Swerve is available for tonight. I’m meeting Gaylord for dinner.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Yes. One more thing.” His eyes searched mine, sending a blast of heat and longing straight to the apex of my thighs. “If you could get your aunt into any facility, where would it be?”
“Whispering Willows,” I said without hesitation. The full-care nursing home was by far the best in the state, but the annual cost exceeded my yearly salary by a few thousand. The probability of getting her admitted exceeded my wildest dreams.
Roman turned to Ivan. “Make that happen, would you?” He released my chin and they continued into the study, closing the door behind them. I stood in the hallway, staring after them, and blinked back tears of disbelief.
After a few seconds, I regained my composure. As much as I appreciated his efforts, I’d never be able to afford the fees of a topnotch facility like Whispering Willows. With shaking hands, I tapped out a quick text to him.
Me: I appreciate the offer, but I’ll never be able to afford it.
An answer came immediately.
Him: Maybe you can’t, but I can.
Me: I can’t accept. It’s too much.
I held my breath and waited for his reply, but it never came. A half hour later, we met at the elevator in preparation for the drive to his office. “The nursing home—it’s very generous of you, but there’s no way I can accept.”
“Bullshit.” He glanced at his watch and pressed the
elevator button for a second time. “You can and you will.”
“I’m serious.” We both faced the elevator doors. My backside prickled with awareness of Ivan’s presence behind us, certain the old fox was absorbing every word of our conversation.
“So am I.”
The three of us boarded the car and began the long descent to the lobby. Ivan stood in front of us, closest to the doors, his hands clasped in front of him. Roman’s shoulder grazed my bare arm. His little finger slipped around mine. The small gesture cracked my composure. I turned and stared up at the straight line of his nose, the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, the proud tilt of his chin. He looked every bit the proud, enigmatic, exiled prince—my prince.
“You’re impossible,” I said.
“I know.” He avoided my gaze, but the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to figure it out.”
Chapter 28
Rourke
After lunch, Roman left for his meeting with Gaylord, and I went back to the penthouse to prepare for his trip. There were tons of small details to be completed. His wardrobe needed coordinated. Appointments and meetings had to be rearranged. Reservations had to be scheduled. I spent the afternoon in a flurry of activity.
At the end of the day, I went upstairs. Inside his bedroom, I paused to reflect on the space from a different perspective. We hadn’t had sex yet, but the moment was imminent. Would he bring me here, to his massive king-size bed with its pristine white sheets and luxurious throws? Or would he take me somewhere special? I bit my lower lip, basking in the excitement of a new relationship.
If I’d learned anything from my time with Roman, it was this: speculation about his behavior was futile. I treasured his unpredictability and the thrill of never knowing where he might lead me.
I pushed aside my romantic daydreams and buckled down to the task of pulling together his wardrobe. Inside the massive walk-in closet, I paused to do a search on the weather in Edinburgh during the month of September. During my investigation, my work phone buzzed with an incoming call. A glance at the caller ID revealed Nicky’s name.
He’d been conspicuously absent since our dinner, but I’d been too engrossed in Roman to notice. Now, the sight of his adopted brother’s name sucked all the moisture from my mouth. For a brief moment, I considered letting the call go to voicemail then reconsidered. It was better to deal with Nicky right away. In my panic, I dropped a set of jewel-encrusted cufflinks. On my hands and knees, I searched for the missing items while cradling the phone against my ear.
“Hello?” I groped beneath the center island for the cufflinks. They were Roman’s favorite pair. If I’d lost them, he’d be livid.
“Hello, princess,” he said. “I’m downstairs. Can I come up?”
“Roman’s out,” I said, deciding to keep our conversation short and direct.
“I know. It’s you I’ve come to see.”
My fingertips nudged something, but it rolled out of reach. After another moment of groping, I wrapped my fingers around something long and cylindrical. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Come on. It’s important or I wouldn’t bother you. It’ll only take a minute.”
“Alright. I have a few things I want to talk to you about, too.” This might not be the ideal opportunity, but I wanted to let him know exactly where he could shove his extortion attempt. Then I looked down at the item in my hand. A tube of lipstick.
A dozen thoughts ran through my head at once. Why would Roman have lipstick in his bedroom unless a woman had been in here? Aside from the housekeeper, no one came in here but the two of us. The lipstick hadn’t been there when I’d reorganized the closet, which meant it had somehow made its way up here since then. I closed my fingers around the tube and closed my eyes. Jealousy quickly gave way to pain. Although I’d assumed he wasn’t seeing anyone else, we hadn’t had that discussion yet. Did I have a right to be upset when we weren’t exclusive?
I shoved the tube into my pocket and hurried downstairs. At the mirror in the hallway, I paused long enough to check my reflection. Hurt blue eyes stared back at me. After a deep breath, I schooled my features into indifference. When Roman came back, I’d ask him for the truth. Until then, I didn’t want to give Nicky additional fodder for blackmail.
The elevator doors opened just as I stepped into the foyer. He greeted me with a wide smile and a peck on each cheek. I didn’t smile back at him. “I’m not in the mood for your games. What do you need?”
“Wow. You sound just like Roman.” He pretended to pout before brushing past me and into the living room.
“Whatever you have to say, say it,” I said, fingering the lipstick in my pocket.
“I thought you might want some company tonight, since Roman’s busy.” His comment sent a shiver of foreboding up my spine.
“No, thank you. I’ve got work to do.”
“Really?” Dark eyebrows lifted. He turned, a wide smile on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I assumed you’d be free. I just bumped into Roman at The Devil’s Playground. He’ll probably be there all night, knowing him.”
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said; his words obscured by the buzzing in my ears. “I thought he was having dinner at Swerve.” I turned my attention to a nonexistent piece of lint on my sweater in an effort to hide the hurt. Betrayal stung like a motherfucker. Its cruel, careless claws sliced through my heart. In an effort to assuage the pain, I pressed a hand to my chest.
“Are you okay?” Nicky rushed to my side. Taking my elbow, he led me to the sofa.
“Fine. Heartburn,” I said, unable to form a complete sentence. My ribs expanded, creaking with the effort to breathe through the ache.
“Can I get you some water?” His shrewd gaze searched my face. I shook my head and smiled, unwilling to let him see the way he’d breached my armor. He smiled back. “Okay. Good.” He took my hand in his. “So, tell me about you. What’s been going on?”
I withdrew my hand and wiped it across my thigh. “If you came here to coerce me into playing more games, you’re wasting my time. Roman knows everything.”
The dying daylight from the windows caught the auburn highlights in his hair as he cocked his head to one side. “You came clean? Nice move. I didn’t give you nearly enough credit.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “That changes things considerably. I’m going to have to reassess my—” He halted midsentence. “Wait. Oh, no. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“Get out.” I stood, suddenly too weary to continue pretending my feelings didn’t exist.
“I’m so sorry. Here you are, waiting in his penthouse, doing his work, while he’s out fucking everything that moves.” The smile fell from his face, and his voice lowered to a sympathetic croon. “Poor Cinderella. I tried to save you.” He chucked me under the chin. “Well, don’t berate yourself too much. You’re not the first, and you certainly won’t be the last.”
Back in my apartment, I stared at my bedroom ceiling until dawn illuminated the room in shades of pink and lavender. In my head, I scrolled through all the evenings Roman had been absent from the penthouse. How many of those nights had been spent watching or participating in the hedonistic pleasures of The Devil’s Playground? Bitter tears burned my eyes, but I fought them back. I refused to cry over a man who’d betrayed my trust. Even though we hadn’t discussed the terms of our relationship, I’d assumed we were headed toward some type of commitment. Boy, was I a fool. Of course he had other women. He was Roman Menshikov. Men like him didn’t believe in monogamy. He was an exiled prince, a man of lusty appetites, and a billionaire. By his own admission, he could have anything or anyone he wanted. More tears blurred my vision.
When my alarm went off, I threw it across the room and went back to bed. An hour later, someone knocked on my door. Wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties, I stalked to the door. “What?”
“Are you okay?” Roman’s voice floated through the door. “It’s
six-thirty.”
Shit. I’d expected Julie or Ivan or one of the other servants. Not Satan himself. “No. I’m not feeling well.” I’d never been late since my employment.
“Let me in.”
“No. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.” My insides quaked. I leaned my back against the door and waited for his reply.
“Can I get you anything?”
His concern resurrected my anger. Too little, too late. “No. I’m going back to bed. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.” I needed time to process what had happened and consider my options. In the meantime, I couldn’t face him or more of his deceptions.
Once he left, I dressed and headed down to the street. The idea of spending more time in his high tower, locked away, made my stomach turn. Each piece of furniture, every priceless painting and sculpture, bore his stamp. Outside, I walked in the chilly fall air until my feet hurt and my legs ached. Then, I boarded the subway and went to visit Aunt May. I needed to be around someone who loved me, even if she didn’t remember who I was anymore.
When I reached the nursing home, I sat with Aunt May in the facility rec room. She didn’t recognize me, but her presence offered comfort. I poured out the entire story to her, from the beginning, leaving out the sexy parts. She listened intently, and somewhere in the middle of my ramblings, the shadow passed from her eyes.
“You love him, don’t you?” she asked, patting my knee.
I’d been cradling my head in my hands but looked up at her touch. “Auntie?”
“Oh, sweetie. You’ve gone and fallen for this man.” The clear blue of her eyes exactly matched the hue of mine and my mother’s.
“I’ve missed you so much.” In a flash, I threw my arms around here, squeezing her frail bones until she grunted.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Her fragile hands soothed up and down my back. “Now, sit down, and let’s talk through this.”
It felt good to have her back with me, even if it was only for a few precious moments. “I think I made a mistake.”
The Exiled Prince Page 16