The Last Kolovsky Playboy

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘It’s such a nice night.’ Nina smiled maliciously. ‘I thought we should eat outside. Don’t be shy,’ she chided Kate, ‘it’s just a few cameras—the world wants to see the young lovers…’

  They were seated. Despite the short notice, Nina had done well. There were a couple of aunts, Iosef was there with his wife Annie, and also the beautiful Kolovsky daughter, Annika, with her handsome husband, Ross.

  It hurt to watch. For Kate it actually hurt to watch the way they pored over the menu, the way the private conversation continued despite the crowd—and the way Ross held Annika’s hand the whole way through.

  Love couldn’t be manufactured and faked for the cameras, she thought with a flutter of panic, sipping her champagne, feeling every eye on her, and most of all feeling Nina just waiting for her to slip up. What mother would want to turn on her own son? Kate tried to fathom as Aleksi spoke with Ross, his new brother-in-law. What mother would so badly try to expose her son’s faults for the sake of winning?

  ‘What’s wrong, Kate?’ Nina asked pointedly. ‘You look uncomfortable.’

  She couldn’t do this, Kate realized. She couldn’t sit and be demure and plastic—even if she was a fake fiancée she was still herself, and for this charade to continue that was who she needed to be.

  ‘I am uncomfortable,’ Kate said, and the table fell silent. ‘It must be the coat hanger I forgot to take out of my skirt.’

  It was nice to see Nina’s face falter for a second, but nicer—far, far nicer—was once again the rare sound of Aleksi’s laughter, the feel of his hot hand closing around hers as he addressed his mother.

  ‘See now why I love her?’

  He didn’t, of course, Kate told herself, reminded herself, insisted to herself, over and over again. Only now she was herself, now she was being who she really was, the night and the table were more lively. Even Iosef and Annie seemed a touch reluctant when Iosef’s pager urgently sounded and they duly made their excuses.

  ‘One of the benefits of being a doctor,’ Aleksi remarked quietly, as he said goodnight to his brother and sister-in-law.

  ‘Had I known it would be such a good night,’ Iosef murmured to his twin, ‘I would have arranged at least another hour.’ He turned to Kate. ‘It really has been nice meeting you.’

  It was strange, Kate pondered, to kiss the cheek of a man who looked exactly like Aleksi, to smile and chat, to look into the same slate-grey eyes and yet feel nothing.

  She almost wished she could ask them to swap—so she could get through this without emotion. Because one touch from Aleksi and her heart was on skid row.

  Aleksi had dreaded this night, and no doubt would regret it in the morning, when the press did their savage best to mock the reunion and ridicule Kate, but to his absolute surprise he was enjoying himself in a way he never had with his family.

  Oh, his mother was at her most irritating and caustic, but he was so proud of how Kate had just shrugged and carried on. There was no need to impress, he realized. She had this confidence, this strength that amazed him—a side to her he had never seen or appreciated before.

  For the first time he was actually enjoying an evening with his family, and even Annika seemed to be relaxing— until Nina introduced a new subject. ‘I hear you are going to the UK,’ she said to Aleksi, ‘to try and dissuade Belenki.’

  ‘I’m not just going to see him.’ Aleksi didn’t even look over to his mother as he spoke. ‘I would like to meet Riminic, my new nephew…’ Now he looked over to Nina and watched her face pale, watched as she reached for a glass of water.

  ‘His name is Dimitri,’ Nina croaked.

  ‘My mistake,’ Aleksi said. ‘Are you going over to meet your new grandson?’ he asked. ‘Or doesn’t a Detsky Dom orphanage boy count?’

  ‘It’s too soon.’ Nina was having great trouble wearing her false smile, and all the aunts were sitting in rigid silence, awaiting her response. ‘Levander and Millie said they don’t want him to be crowded, that they don’t want too much fuss made.’

  ‘Well, you’ll never be guilty of that.’

  ‘Aleksi’s an expert in children suddenly.’ Nina smiled to the table. ‘Next time you must bring along Georgie. We’d all love to meet her.’

  You could have heard a pin drop.

  ‘You’ve got a child?’ It was Ross, Annika’s husband, who broke the silence.

  ‘Georgie.’ Kate nodded.

  ‘How old?’ Annika’s voice was curiously high.

  ‘She’s nearly five.’

  ‘A lovely age.’ Nina smiled falsely. ‘She’ll be thrilled that Mummy’s engaged, no doubt—what little girl doesn’t harbour the dream of being bridesmaid?’

  ‘Aleksi…’ Annika and Ross were ready to leave now; the night was wrapping up. ‘Can I have a word?’

  Of all his family, it was Annika he was closest to. He knew how hard things had been for her, the expectations that had been placed on her slender shoulders and how hard it must have been to turn her back on them. She was, to Nina’s horror, finishing her nursing training, and was hoping to specialise in aged care—she amazed him too. Every day she grew stronger. Out of her family’s clutches and in Ross’s arms she grew stronger by the minute.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Away from…’ Annika looked uncomfortable and frowned to Ross, who quickly flicked his eyes away. Aleksi’s heart sank, and he shot Ross a black look for his betrayal.

  He had been dreading this day.

  Ross, a doctor, had seen Aleksi’s X-Rays, showing old injuries, when he had been admitted to the hospital after the car crash—had confronted him about them. In a moment of weakness, and also to assure him that Annika hadn’t suffered the same treatment from their father, Aleksi had confessed that he had been beaten in the past. Ross had promised never to reveal what he had said.

  ‘Ross had no right!’ Aleksi flared when they were out of earshot. ‘I don’t care if he’s your husband—I hope his medical malpractice insurance—’

  ‘What are you talking about, Aleksi?’ Annika frowned. ‘He’s just worried—I’m worried.’ She swallowed. ‘Kate’s got a daughter.’

  ‘Georgie.’ Aleksi nodded, relief whooshing through him. He kicked himself for overreacting, but he had been so sure Ross had revealed his past.

  ‘When Mum rang…’ Annika was clearly uncomfortable ‘…she said you were pulling some stunt but that we should be seen to be supportive. Look, I get that there are a lot of people you have to convince you are settling down, and I have no idea what Mum’s up to, pretending to support you…’

  ‘Don’t worry about Kate and me.’

  ‘I’m not.’ She looked squarely at him. ‘Kate seems lovely. She seems more than capable. If you are genuinely engaged then I couldn’t be more delighted for you. If you’re not…’

  ‘Kate and I have worked together a long time,’ Aleksi said. ‘Only when I was injured did we realize—’

  ‘Save it for the press,’ Annika hissed, clearly not convinced. ‘What I am saying is that if you two are just doing this to appease the board, if this is just some convenient arrangement…She has a child, Aleksi!’

  ‘I am looking after Georgie,’ he protested.

  ‘So it’s about the money for Kate, then?’ Annika asked cynically.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I know this much,’ Annika flared, and Aleksi realised just how strongly his sister felt. ‘If it’s anything other than love guiding this, then you two had better think long and hard about Georgie. Do you really want a child caught up in all this? The press will give you both absolute hell if it comes out. Do you really want all this to land on a five-year-old?’

  ‘She’s sensible for her age,’ he said defensively, although his heart was sinking with every sentence she uttered.

  ‘Oh, so that’s okay, then,’ Annika sneered, and then her voice broke. ‘She’ll love you, too, Aleksi.’

  ‘Annika—’

  ‘No!’ She would not be
silenced. ‘What little girl doesn’t want a daddy? What little girl doesn’t want to see her mum happy and live in a beautiful house?’ She shook her head at her brother. ‘I’ve seen Kate looking at you. She’s crazy about you, Aleksi, but that’s her problem. Just don’t break that little girl’s heart, too.’

  He had dismissed it when his mother had said it, but hearing Annika’s raw plea had Aleksi more than uneasy. He looked over to where Kate sat, smiling, chatting, making light work of his mother, and he knew, as he had always known deep down, that Kate had feelings for him. So many women had. And then she turned around, caught his eye, and she smiled a smile that was just for him.

  A smile that said, Get me out of here.

  An intimate smile that was only passed between lovers.

  He would hurt her.

  Of that Aleksi was in no doubt—and now here was Annika, telling him that he would hurt Georgie, too.

  ‘Be very careful,’ Annika warned, only Aleksi wasn’t listening. For him the night was over.

  He summoned Kate and they were out of there, the cameras clicking again, Kate once again attempting to duck his kiss as they slipped into the back seat.

  ‘We’re supposed to be unable to keep our hands off each other,’ Aleksi reminded her, but even as she tried to close her eyes and think of Kolovsky all she could see was the cheque still in her bag, waiting to be cashed.

  She felt paid for.

  ‘It’s like kissing an aunt.’ Aleksi gave in and brooded instead, sat drumming his fingers on the passenger door as they were driven back to his home.

  But worse, far worse for Aleksi, was when they arrived home. All he wanted was to take her upstairs to drive out the warnings, to convince himself they were right to be doing what they were doing, to forget for just a little while that this was a dangerous game. As if sent to remind him, as they stepped into the hall Georgie stood at the top of the stairs, a teddy on her nightdress, her hair a mass of ringlets, and a very sorry nanny by her side.

  ‘She wouldn’t go to sleep till she knew you were home.’

  ‘She’s probably a little unsettled,’ Kate said as Georgie came running down the stairs.

  Georgie quickly corrected her mother—she wasn’t unsettled; on the contrary she was absolutely delighted with her new home.

  ‘We had supper by the pool and then we took Bruce for a walk on the beach.’ She was chattering so fast she could hardly get the words out in order. ‘There are hundreds of different channels on Aleksi’s television; I saw you arriving at the dinner and they were talking about the wedding!’

  ‘What was she doing watching the news?’ Aleksi frowned to Sophie.

  ‘It was just for a second. She was working out the remote…’

  ‘She is not just to be plonked in front of the television—’

  ‘Aleksi,’ Kate broke in, ‘I let her watch some. It’s no big deal…’

  ‘She’s not even five yet,’ Aleksi warned the nanny. ‘She is not to watch the news.’

  ‘Of course, Mr Kolovsky.’ Sophie’s face was purple with embarrassment. ‘Come on, Georgie, let’s get you to bed.’

  ‘I’ll take her,’ Kate said, because that was what she wanted.

  It was a thoroughly over-excited Georgie that she put to bed, and it took for ever to get her to settle. Her new school uniform was hanging on the wardrobe door, as per Georgie’s instructions, and she would have worn it to bed had Kate allowed it.

  ‘I love it here,’ Georgie whispered as Kate finally flicked the light off. ‘Are you happy too?’

  ‘Of course,’ Kate said, and closing the bedroom door she let out a long breath, before walking along the hall to the bedroom, bracing herself to earn her keep.

  ‘How is she?’

  His suit lay in a puddle on the floor, and he lay in the bed. He didn’t look up from scrolling through messages on his phone, and Kate felt suddenly shy.

  She had never actually undressed in front of him. Usually, it just…well, happened. But now she stood in his vast bedroom, the bedside lights seemed to be blazing and because when packing she’d realised she truly couldn’t bring that, her familiar tatty dressing gown was in a bin somewhere. Despite their previous intimacies, Kate just wasn’t ready to undress in front of him, so instead she padded into the en-suite bathroom.

  Her hair, of course, was everywhere. Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, her lipstick, despite the packaging’s promise, had long, long since faded, and yet…

  Her usually self-critical eyes blinked—because though she could see her faults there was something new there, something that had been missing too long. He had awoken something in her—intangible, yet somehow visible.

  There was a glow that had been missing—a ripeness, a lushness, that she couldn’t logically explain. As she peeled off her clothes and stepped on his scales they gave her the same old bad news—said it out loud, actually, and Kate jumped off in horror, hoping to God that Aleksi hadn’t heard!

  What to wear?

  She stared at the neatly folded white towels that had been replaced since her shower this evening. There were bathrobes hanging against the door, as anonymous as in any hotel.

  She was too nervous to go out there, so she lingered in brushing her teeth and taking off her make-up. Always till now their passion had been spontaneous, a wave that swept them up, only now she felt as if she were standing at the edge of Aleksi’s glittering pool, nervous about just plunging in.

  What to wear?

  The question plagued her again. She didn’t own a nightdress. The last time she had worn one was when Georgie had been born. Yes, she could put on a bathrobe, and then take it off when she got to bed. Brave, nervous, she opened the bathroom door. The overhead lights were off, but the dim bedside lights might just as well have been spotlights tracking her as she padded towards him, her body a contrary jumble of emotions, because she wanted him…so badly she wanted him…

  Just not like this.

  The French windows were open and she could hear the slow lap of the bay, except it didn’t calm her a jot. She could feel his eyes on her as reached the bed and stood there.

  ‘Are you going to wear your bathrobe to bed?’

  She bit down on her lip and took it off in one fumbled motion that included lifting the sheet and sliding into bed.

  She could smell his maleness, could feel his brooding mood, and she longed for the spontaneity of before— for touches that just happened, not this manufactured simulation they had invented.

  His kiss was skilled and practised, his hands insistent and probing, and she tried to tell herself she enjoyed it—tried to remind her body how just a few days ago it had craved this moment, had yearned for the weight of his body and the scratch of his thigh as he parted her legs. But her body refused to listen.

  Oh, she kissed him back, moaned and made noises, but Aleksi had tasted the real Kate and knew he was getting a poor imitation of the woman he had so recently reduced to delicious begging.

  And Aleksi was too proud to take favours.

  ‘You’re tired.’ He rolled away from her.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s been a long day,’ Aleksi offered, and flicked off the bedside light.

  ‘Yes.’ She stared at the darkness, relieved and yet disappointed at the same time.

  ‘They’re in the bathroom cupboard, by the way,’ Aleksi said, shifting onto his side to face away from her, and Kate closed her eyes at what came next. ‘The headache tablets—no doubt you’ll soon say you’ve got one.’

  Chapter Eight

  KRASAVITSA KATE

  Aleksi stared at the headline, and then at the photo.

  Always the papers crucified his dates. The sleekest, glossiest were caught mid-blink or at an unflattering angle, the write-ups were always scathing—all night he had dreaded Kate’s face when she saw the cruel words and pictures at the breakfast table.

  And yet here she was. On the front cover.

  One strap of her dress falling slightly from he
r shoulder, her hair rippling down the other one, her head thrown back mid-laugh, her cleavage, her arms, her flesh so refreshing—but most surprising for Aleksi next to her was himself, and for once he was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning, but there was a smile on his usually stern features. As he stared at the photo he tried to recall that moment, what it was that had made Kate laugh, what it was that had made him smile—only, unusually, he couldn’t narrow it down to one time.

  Despite the tense atmosphere, despite the barbs and the comments and the claustrophobic air any family reunion of his usually fostered, last night there had also been moments like these.

  Many of them.

  ‘There’s Mummy!’ A smiling face peered over not his shoulder but his elbow. ‘What’s that word?’

  ‘Krasavitsa,’ Aleksi said. ‘It means beautiful woman.’

  ‘Well, I’m not feeling so krasavitsa this morning!’ Kate headed for the kitchen bench to pour a coffee then, realising there was no need, instead walked over to the breakfast table, where the maid was pouring it for her. The table was positioned in a sun-drenched area, overlooking the pool and the tennis courts, the French doors were open, and as she sat before the generous feast, Kate wondered how he did it. Not a single fly buzzed around the pastries and spreads—no doubt Aleksi employed someone to ward them off from a suitable distance.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes so she concentrated on her breakfast, choosing some lovely fresh fruit and wondering if she should treat the next two months as some kind of mini-health retreat—swimming each day, eating all the right things. She’d come out of this all glossy and gorgeous, even if she was lugging around a broken heart.

  ‘When you marry my mum—’ Georgie’s words hauled her from her introspection ‘—will I be a bridesmaid?’

  Horrified, she looked over to Aleksi, wondering what his scathing response would be, but Aleksi just smiled into his newspaper.

  ‘Georgie…’ It was Kate who answered. ‘I told you—we’re just seeing how things work out.’ Her eyes were urgent as they darted to Aleksi’s, hoping he would understand that marriage wasn’t on Kate’s agenda, but that she couldn’t include her daughter in the charade and expect her not to voice the truth.