Billionaire Without a Past (Irresistible Russian Tycoons)

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘I’m not jealous, André,’ she corrected him sharply. ‘But really—my cousin? Don’t you think that’s a bit off?’

  ‘For God’s sake!’ André protested. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’

  Rachel wasn’t going to stand there and debate it but the truth was, the thought that he was marrying her cousin made her skin crawl. Now, at every family gathering, every wedding or christening she would have to see him, her ex-lover. The fact that he didn’t see it as a problem infuriated her. So much so that she walked off briskly and left him to catch up with the rest of their troupe.

  Or rather what had once been her troupe.

  She wasn’t a part of that world any more. Now she had told Libby and the word was out, it was truly starting to dawn on her that her dancing career, as she had known it, was over.

  And, because it really wasn’t a great Sunday, coming towards her in the corridor was last night’s mistake, naturally.

  Nikolai.

  What the hell was he doing here? Rachel thought. He was the last person she’d expected to see, given how keen he’d been to get away after the wedding service.

  Unfortunately for her he looked amazing. If he’d looked beautiful yesterday, he looked exquisite now. Dressed in black linen pants with a fitted shirt, Nikolai could have been strolling down a runway in Milan. He hadn’t shaved and looked sulky and beautiful and he too was carrying flowers.

  ‘Rachel,’ he said as she passed him.

  He had seen her talking to an exceptionally good-looking man and then had watched her flounce off in a huff.

  It was André. He knew that, he could just tell that they had been lovers.

  They had stood closer than friends would have, their body language had told him they were sexually familiar with each other and it did not sit well with him.

  Jealousy was not an emotion that Nikolai was used to feeling, yet he had felt it surge as he had turned the corner and seen them. Still, it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew, but as she brushed past him he caught her elbow and said her name.

  ‘What?’ she asked as she swung around.

  Nikolai took in her red eyes and swollen lips and though he wasn’t sure if he had been the cause of her tears he knew that his leaving had been less than kind.

  ‘About last night...’

  ‘You lost your opportunity for conversation about four a.m. this morning,’ she said, her voice tart.

  ‘Look—’

  ‘I don’t want to look,’ she broke in swiftly. She did not want to examine last night and this morning’s tears; she did not want to remember the summer bliss of his arms and the cold winter of this morning. She glanced down at the flowers he held. ‘You really shouldn’t have,’ Rachel said in a sarcastic tone.

  ‘I don’t think pink is your colour,’ he responded. ‘In fact, I doubt that flowers are even your thing.’

  That he was right almost brought a reluctant smile to her lips but Rachel refused to let it appear.

  ‘They’re for Libby,’ he said.

  ‘Well, Libby’s not accepting visitors.’

  ‘Good.’

  His response confused her but Rachel wasn’t waiting around to find out what he’d meant by that. As Nikolai went to hand them over to the receptionist, she made her way to the elevator.

  Please, hurry, she thought, pressing the button over and over, but luck wasn’t on her side today.

  Oh, no!

  The day just got better and better because first André and then Nikolai came and stood by her side and she had the absolute displeasure of getting into the elevator with both men.

  ‘I hear they’re having drinks for you on Saturday afternoon,’ André said. Of course he was oblivious to the other man in the lift, whereas Rachel was acutely aware of him.

  ‘No.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘I couldn’t make it then, so it’s been moved to the Saturday after.’

  She had deliberately moved her leaving do to the following Saturday afternoon in the hope that, given that the next day was his wedding, André wouldn’t be able to make it.

  ‘Rachel...’ André said as the elevator doors opened and she started to leave. ‘Let’s go and get a drink and discuss—’

  ‘She can’t.’

  It was Nikolai who broke in.

  André frowned at the intrusion but then Rachel tensed as Nikolai spoke on. ‘Rachel and I were just on our way out.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘YOU DIDN’T NEED to do that.’ Rachel said.

  André had huffed off and now Rachel stood awkwardly in the hospital reception with the man who had so coldly left her in bed earlier that morning.

  ‘Do what?’ Nikolai said.

  ‘Make up excuses for me.’

  ‘I’m not making up an excuse,’ he said. ‘We are on our way out.’

  Rachel angrily shook her head. ‘Oh, no, we’re not.’ She went to walk off.

  ‘Don’t rush off.’

  She spun around and faced him. ‘I could have said the same last night.’

  He smiled at her sharp response and, for Rachel, the effect was just as dazzling as it had been yesterday. It was rare, she knew, for she hadn’t even seen him smile with his friends. It was almost her undoing but not quite.

  ‘Come on.’ He sensed a tiny dint in her armour and moved straight in. ‘I want to apologise properly for my behaviour this morning.’

  Momentarily, the wind was taken from Rachel’s angry sails, though it swiftly returned. ‘Had we not bumped into each other you wouldn’t have—’

  ‘Rachel.’ He was calm as he interrupted her tirade. ‘I accept that you don’t know me very well but I think even you could agree that a hospital visit to a woman I don’t know, a few hours after she has given birth, is not the norm for me. I only came because I was going to ask Libby or Daniil for your number and I thought it better to do that face to face,’ Nikolai admitted.

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Whether you do or not is up to you.’ Nikolai shrugged.

  ‘And what were you going to do if Libby gave it to you?’

  ‘The same as I am doing now—ask if you want to go and get dinner so I can better explain my actions.

  ‘So,’ Nikolai pushed. ‘Shall we go and get something to eat?’

  ‘It’s four o’clock,’ Rachel pointed out.

  ‘Well, I’m hungry.’

  So was she. Not just for food, though.

  ‘Fine.’

  It was against every rule she made for herself. Usually she would leave and insist on a more thorough pursuit, yet she was painfully aware that there was a ticking clock attached to Nikolai—he would be leaving soon. She wanted to know him some more, and that he had apologised up front for his behaviour had taken her by surprise.

  Nikolai had felt bad all day and that was something that didn’t happen often. Yesterday had been difficult.

  Today was proving to be the same.

  ‘We can walk or get a taxi,’ Nikolai offered. ‘It’s close by.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘The place I want to take you—a bar I know.’ What he didn’t tell her was that the Russian vodka piano bar was one of several that he owned around the world. Instead, he glanced down at her pale legs and high heels and made the choice for them. ‘Taxi.’

  Soon he had hailed one and they climbed in, Nikolai gave the address and then turned and saw her strained face as she looked out of the window.

  ‘I assume that the man in the elevator was your ex.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ she answered—after Nikolai’s behaviour she certainly didn’t have to explain herself to him.

  It mattered to Nikolai.

  On sight he had decided that he didn’t like André. It wasn’t just the stir of je
alousy that had hit him when he had seen Rachel talking to the other man in the corridor, more he did not like a man who suggested drinks with an ex two weeks before his wedding.

  There was something about Rachel that concerned him—or rather there was a vulnerability to her, despite her confident exterior, and he had no doubt in his mind that a man like André might use that to his own advantage.

  Her phone rang and seeing it was Libby she took it.

  ‘I just got your flowers,’ Libby moaned. ‘Why didn’t you give your name? You were on the list of people allowed in to visit.’

  ‘André was standing next to me,’ Rachel said. ‘And then another half a dozen arrived. You get some sleep, I’ll see you when you get home.’

  ‘Nikolai came to visit too and left flowers,’ Libby said. ‘I feel awful for abandoning him last night...’

  ‘You hardly had a choice,’ Rachel said, and looked at him. ‘I’m sure he was fine.’ They chatted for a couple of moments but Rachel chose not to mention she was in a taxi with Nikolai.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked when she finished the call.

  ‘A bit teary,’ Rachel said. ‘She was even worried about abandoning you last night.’

  ‘I’m an orphan,’ he said. ‘So I’m kind of used to it.’

  His dark, dry humour made her smile, just a little, and he made her so curious that for a moment she forgot how cross she was. ‘Do you know who your parents were?’

  Her direct question surprised Nikolai, or maybe not—this was Rachel after all. He answered with a brief shake of his head.

  ‘Not at all?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ He met her eyes and chose to end the conversation. ‘I was left in a box in the church.’

  Or rather it should have ended the conversation but Rachel chimed in again. ‘How old were you then?’

  ‘A day or so old.’

  He looked out of the window, loathing the discomfort that admission caused—but at least he had silenced her. After all, what could anyone say to that? he thought to himself.

  ‘That was nice of her.’ Rachel’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  He frowned and then turned and looked at her. ‘Nice?’

  ‘For your mother to leave you where she must have known you’d be found.’

  He got back to looking out of the window, not that that stopped Rachel from talking.

  ‘Poor thing.’

  ‘I don’t need your sympathy,’ he snapped.

  ‘I meant your mum.’ Rachel tapped at his leg with her foot and he looked up and she was smiling her toothy smile because he had misunderstood and Nikolai found himself almost smiling back.

  ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘Well, from the sound of things Libby is struggling a bit today and she’s got Daniil and all the nurses helping her...and I can’t imagine how awful it must be to feel you have no choice other than to give your baby up.’

  Nikolai hadn’t thought of it like that, he had never thought it might have been hard for his mother to do what she had. ‘Do you want children?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m far too selfish.’

  She wasn’t selfish, though, Nikolai thought. She was very, very kind because in her rather direct way she had turned things around a little for him, and, no, she wasn’t glib, she was blunt but kind.

  ‘Anyway, I’m not talking to you.’ Rachel remembered then she was supposed to be cross and got back to sulking, but the taxi was pulling up and they were soon getting out.

  The street was quiet and there was no restaurant that Rachel could see, at first anyway.

  ‘This way.’

  It was a place you wouldn’t go to unless you knew that it was here, Rachel thought, because they walked down some steps into a basement and the door was opened for them.

  Nikolai spoke in Russian to the mâitre d’ and told him that he didn’t want any extra fuss to be made of him and his guest.

  They were used to his request—but as they were led through the bar it dawned on Nikolai that Rachel, unlike any other of the women that he dated, had absolutely no idea about his wealth. He had dressed down for the wedding and had used taxis rather than his driver in an effort to keep his life from his friends—to hide his identity somewhat—but there was less and less need for that now. Soon he would be speaking with Sev and it would all come out. Nikolai had decided to face things. He would rather that Rachel heard the sparse details he was prepared to share from him than from anyone else.

  And if she had questions, he would do his best to answer them.

  The bar was semi-dark, the tables lit by candles, and a piano played in the background. As they took their seats at low velvet couches it was slightly disorientating—there were no clocks, the lights were dimmed, it could be midnight or midday.

  ‘Wow!’ Rachel said as they sat down. Her eyes had become accustomed to the gloom and she took in her surroundings—the clientele was exquisitely dressed. There was an air of both opulence and decadence. ‘So this is where all the beautiful people disappear to on a Sunday.’

  ‘It is,’ Nikolai said as they were handed some menus.

  Rachel peered at the extensive list and shook her head. ‘I have no idea what I want,’ she admitted. ‘It all looks...’ she thought for a moment ‘...unfamiliar.’

  ‘Then I shall order for you,’ he said.

  ‘Please.’

  He thought she might have protested but Rachel was actually thrilled to just sit back on the sofa as he gave the waitress their order in Russian.

  ‘What am I getting?’ she asked.

  ‘You will find out soon.’

  ‘So—’ she got straight to the point ‘—you wanted to apologise.’

  ‘Can we at least eat first?’

  Two shot glasses and a bottle were brought over and Nikolai poured. It felt rather debauched to be sipping icy vodka that burnt her tongue this early in the afternoon.

  ‘What do you taste?’ Nikolai asked.

  ‘Ginger...’ She rolled her tongue over her lips just to taste it again. ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘It is actually my favourite,’ he said. ‘It was so, even before I saw your hair.’

  Rachel put down her glass and shot him a look. ‘Don’t try flirting, Nikolai,’ she warned. ‘I’m still cross with you.’

  ‘I know that you are, and I will deal with that soon, but first it’s time to eat.’

  He poured her another drink and as the food was brought over for them to share he talked her through it. It was hard to remember to stay cross as delight after delight passed her lips. Tiny pirozhkis, which Nikolai explained were small pies but crammed with amazing ingredients, like wild mushrooms and smoked meats.

  There were little blinis topped with caviar, which was her favourite thing. Furthermore, there wasn’t just a small smattering. These were absolutely loaded and Rachel closed her eyes in utter bliss as the caviar popped in her mouth and then she caught him looking.

  ‘If you’re trying to win favour with food,’ she said, ‘then you’re doing a very good job.’

  ‘You like caviar?’

  ‘I love it,’ she admitted. ‘I could very happily eat it for breakfast every day.’

  It wasn’t just the caviar that was wonderful—who knew cabbage could be sexy? But when it was red and dressed in a ginger relish to go with their drink of choice, Rachel could feel her cheeks grow warm.

  ‘That’s amazing,’ she admitted.

  ‘So are you.’

  She gave a short, wry laugh and remembered the reason they were there. ‘Clearly not that amazing,’ she said, and then her eyes darted angrily at him.

  ‘Say what you are thinking,’ he invited.

  ‘That you’re a bastard!’

  ‘I often am,’ he free
ly admitted. ‘But not in this case.’

  ‘Oh, I beg to differ.’ She let out a terse breath. Even though it was refreshing to discuss issues it was still a difficult conversation to have—it was hard to admit how hurt she was by his actions because that meant she liked him and that was not something she ever cared to admit.

  ‘I regret how I left this morning,’ he said. ‘Usually I don’t dwell on mistakes. All day, though, I have. You didn’t deserve to have me leave like that.’

  ‘You made me feel cheap,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to get down on your knees and propose the next morning—I’m not naïve—but to just walk off...’ She stopped talking then. She could hear the slight rise in her voice and she could feel the prickle of anger spreading over her skin. And now she knew the reason that she had shed so many tears. The way he had left her had awoken an emotional memory, one that she did not want to explore.

  ‘I tried to tell you I was leaving,’ he said, ‘but you were busy pretending to be asleep.’

  He was too direct even for Rachel—there were some things you just didn’t say, some things that you allowed to go unobserved.

  Not Nikolai, it would seem.

  ‘You were uncomfortable afterwards,’ he continued, ‘and so was I. I don’t know why you were. I can only speak for myself...’ Rachel sat and fiddled with her glass as he spoke on. ‘It wasn’t my intention to get back in touch with my friends,’ he explained. ‘Yesterday I planned just to go to the church. I really wanted to see Sev get married but I didn’t want to have the conversation that I knew would follow if I was seen. If I catch up with them again they will have questions...’

  ‘Of course they will,’ Rachel said. ‘They want to know what happened to you over the years.’

  Nikolai said nothing for a moment, he just refilled his glass. He didn’t mind his friends asking about the missing years; more it was the thought of them asking why he had left in the first place. Even as he spoke on, he was trying to work out how best to explain things. ‘For now there hasn’t been time for a proper catch-up—Sev is on his honeymoon, Daniil is busy with the baby...’ He saw her slight frown.

  ‘Don’t you want to be back in touch?’ Rachel asked.