Rush: A Second Chance Romance

by Ellen Lane

  But now was hardly the time to be contemplating all that.

  Vlad knew he could hardly afford to get himself worked up when he would be with Charlotte in Russia for the next few weeks. It was a boon, really, that they would be meeting up with Toshiro there. His brother’s presence would remind him that he was only really in Russia for work, and Charlotte happened to be a necessary evil.

  Though...it was certainly strange for his father to be enamored of a single architect. He usually liked to work with architecture firms - picking two or three individuals from the same company and then consulting with both them and their superiors to construct the building. Not only was his choosing Charlotte a huge departure from the usual building style he preferred, but the process he took in construction as well.

  Leaning back against the plush leather seat, Vladimir eyed the woman still sleeping against the opposite window. What was it about her that so caught his father’s eye? And moreover, whatever it was, was it contagious? Because his judgement was certainly compromised where Charlotte was concerned.

  He knew that he was going to have to be on his best behavior for the next three weeks - the question was: Would he last that long? They would be in separate hotel rooms, they probably wouldn’t be eating together like they had been...but they would still be working together. Would that be enough? Somehow, Vladimir was inclined to believe that whenever Charlotte was in the same city as him, he wouldn’t be able to forget how she tasted…. the intoxicating way she had arched against him - as if she wanted him inside her just as desperately as he wanted to be inside of her…

  Vlad realized, with a start, that his hand was resting heavily on Charlotte’s thigh.

  For at least a full minute, he stared at it, simultaneously shocked and alarmed.

  He wasn’t even aware that he had shifted at all. Of course, now he could feel the soft smoothness of Charlotte’s leg beneath the leggings she wore, and Vladimir found himself loathe to pull away. It would be quite easy, he knew, to become addicted to touching Charlotte - but doing it while she slept was nothing short of reprehensible.

  With no small amount of effort, he withdrew his hand, swallowing thickly.

  In that moment, it was clear to him: Shiro or not, this trip was going to be a special brand of torture.

  Thankfully, Charlotte slept all the way to the airport. She even slept through his lifting her from the car once more to carry her through the airport - to a bevy of strange looks, but, mercifully, no reporters - and to the waiting jet. She only began to stir once the engines started to hum and they were halfway on their way to takeoff.

  Vlad was sitting across from her, trying not to be aware of her with every spare cell in his body that wasn’t needed for brain power as he stolidly read the same line in his paper over and over again.

  But the moment she shifted with a drowsy sound and her eyes began to open, he knew it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her sit up slowly, staring blearily around at her surroundings. Her eyes widened as they took in the mahogany and cream interior of the private plane - from the leather sofa she was strapped into to the four or five more seats and the bar, along with the long hallway that led off towards a small bedroom in the rear and an even smaller washroom. He estimated that it took her about fifteen seconds to process that they were on a plane, and then another fifteen for her to realize what that must mean.

  Her expression became briefly panicked as she searched for him, only to find him seated across from her. Then, her eyes narrowed. She worked her way out from under the blanket - her blanket- glaring pointedly until it was obvious that she wanted a reaction from him. Vlad gave it - as carefully as he could, lowering his paper to give her a mild once over. “Good morning.”

  Charlotte looked as if she were trying to reign in her temper and Vlad was caught between how lovely she looked with her cheeks flushed in irritation and how much he’d liked to avoid an upset just now. “Did you take me from my house?”

  “You were exhausted,” he returned neutrally, her irate tone rolling off him like water. “Lila told me you haven’t slept in days. I wanted to make sure you were thoroughly rested before we started the new project.”

  “What about my stuff?” She countered almost immediately. “My blueprints. My pencils, my supplies, my clothes-”

  “Your roommate was helpful enough to point them out to me.” He cut her off smoothly. “Everything’s been packed. I even made sure to grab the drawing you fell asleep on. It’s in my case, just there.” He indicated with a nod of his head at the leather briefcase leaning against the sofa she sat on.

  He watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the anger drained from her face almost instantly to be replaced with slight embarrassment. “Oh.” He seemed to have taken the wind completely from her sails and watched as she suddenly turned her gaze from him, looking everywhere but in his direction sleepily as she tried to regain her steam. “This thing is huge.” She muttered under her breath, sweeping a few messy strands of red hair from her brow as the plane began to taxi towards the runway.

  “We could have flown commercial, but this was a bit short notice,” he provided, folding his paper as he gave up on his charade and looked her directly in the eye with a teasing smirk. “So enjoy the luxury while it lasts.”

  Charlotte merely rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to sleep. Wake me when we get there.” He almost asked her not to - but that, he knew, would be selfish. It wouldn’t be right to keep her awake just because he was anxious about his hands wandering while she was asleep.

  Vladimir told himself that, as soon as they were airborne, he’d take her to the bedroom and that would be that. He wouldn’t even have to look at her for the rest of the flight, and he could finally relax.

  He seemed to be lying to himself more and more lately - and he had to wonder: Was it Charlotte Gardner who brought out this new trait in him, or had it been there all along, and was just choosing now to rear its ugly head? He watched her settle on the sofa, wrapped in her blanket, and Vladimir wondered if he had ever been so jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life.

  Chapter 7 - Staying Warm

  Russia hadn’t changed.

  It seemed, to Vladimir, that it never really changed. It was always the same place he had been plucked from as a child. Chill, frosty and covered in white for most of the year - at least in St. Petersburg. The moment they landed, a rush of nostalgia almost overwhelmed him. He didn’t miss this place, per say. As a child, Russia held nothing but pain for him - he had been glad to escape.

  Luckily, growing up with a father like Jackson Kensley had given him the opportunity to relearn all of his roots. As with all his children, Jackson encouraged Vladimir to return to Russia - to discover a love for his homeland. He never lost his language, and after his first, albeit reluctant, return visit at the age of eighteen, Vladimir had been almost every year.

  He learned to enjoy the city that had almost been his demise - to appreciate the beauty of the architecture, the warmth of the people, and the beauty of his heritage - even if it had taken him almost twenty years to get to this point.

  At thirty-five, he welcomed his trips to his homeland - he considered in an extension of his home, despite the painful memories he had.

  Charlotte, however, was seeing all of this for the first time, and Vlad found himself entertained by the sheer awe on her face. The moment they stepped from the airport into the decidedly frosty air, she wanted to see everything and anything. Vlad occupied himself with finding the car that had been sent for them and greeting the driver in Russian. Charlotte was staring at the snow-covered peaks in the distance and at the crush of cars going through airport drive. Of course, all the writing was in Russian, and she inspected a sign just outside the terminal door closely, as if inspection was enough to teach her to read it.

  “Charlotte.” When he called her name, she whirled, pink-cheeked at being caught in her fascination. Vlad barely managed to keep from smiling. “Let’s go.”

&nb
sp; She was over to the car in a trice - and as she slipped inside, her frigid skin brushed against his throat. While he frowned at how cold she was, his rebellious body reacted in a far less appropriate way, and he had to arrange himself carefully when he sat. “Didn’t you pack warm clothes?” He admonished her, even as she pressed her nose to the window curiously.

  “Yeah,” her voice came back muffled, “In my luggage.”

  Vladimir made a low sound of frustration in his throat. “Charlotte, you’re going to make yourself sick - and that won’t help anyone.”

  “Aww,” She glanced over her shoulder at him with a teasing smile. “Are you worried about me, Mr. Kensley? Perish the thought.” She had teased him like this before - and usually, Vlad merely ignored her. She was remarkably child-like for a thirty-year old - something that both drew him in and annoyed him all at once.

  But this time wasn’t like the others.

  He reached over and took a gently, but firm hold on her arm, dragging her across the back seat and up against his side so he could reach her better. Without any other pretense, Vladimir’s hands covered her shoulders and he began to rub up and down her bare arms vigorously. What the hell did she think she was doing, wearing a tank top in this weather? She really did have little to no regard for her own health. “Where,” he demanded, in a tone that booked little argument, “Is your damned coat?”

  Charlotte stiffened immediately - and Vlad was surprised to see that he’d intimidated her - she, the unintimidatable. “I…” She managed after a moment of his vigorous ministrations. “It’s in my duffel. In the trunk.”

  Vlad merely exhaled an exasperated sigh, sweeping his suit jacket from her shoulders to drape over her shoulders. “Take that for now. But you’re changing as soon as we get to the hotel - no arguments.”

  “...Ok.” Charlotte merely peeked at him out of the corner of her gaze, her expression all at once tentative. It was completely and totally unlike her, and, for a moment, Vladimir feared he might have gone a bit too far.

  It was impulsive, really. After finding out that she had literally worked herself to the point of exhaustion in LA, was it really so strange that he would worry that she’d fall short in other areas. Certainly, she was more than capable where her work was concerned...but in other areas? Vladimir was beginning to realize that Charlotte wasn’t first on the list of her own priorities - and that made him angry for reasons he couldn’t explain.

  Even so, her tentative tone was enough to make him want to apologize - the words even rose to hips lips. Before he could release them, however, Charlotte said something else. Something that stopped him in his tracks. “Thank you.” The words were so soft he almost missed them - he might have, if he hadn’t been so damned absorbed in her. But he didn’t.

  Vladimir found himself swallowing thickly. He could deal with her yelling at him - arguing with him, laughing at him and even teasing him. But thanking him? That was a bit much. It played too well into the changing dynamic between them - a dynamic that he was dead set on beating off for as long as he breathed.

  Or at least as long as his resolve held up.

  Thankfully, he didn’t have too much time to linger on her thanks, as Vlad was soon back to watching Charlotte marvel at almost every sight that raced by their windows. They passed the luxuriously appointed Hermitage museum - a sea of gold and white - along with the Winter Palace, where the Romanovs had fallen from power, and St. Isaac’s Cathedral, spiraling into the sky.

  When he was a boy, these places had seemed to belong to an entirely different world - but now, he had visited each and every one of them. He had overcome his past, grateful for the new life his parents had given him. Without them, he certainly wouldn’t be where he was now.

  And that included sitting a mere twelve inches away from a woman who was temptation incarnate.

  As lovely as he believed the sites of St. Petersburg to be, Charlotte was practically agog. She took in the architectural wonders with an open mouth and wide, staring honey-colored eyes. Vladimir remembered that she was seeing all of this for the first time and busied himself telling her the names of streets and the more famous sites. Charlotte did nothing but nod, too wrapped up in the experience to say anything more than a few words.

  After about forty minutes of driving through heavy traffic, they reached the Four Seasons Hotel at the heart of the city. It had been fashioned from the old Lion Palace, and when the car slowed to a stop before it, the sound that left Charlotte could be defined as nothing less than a squeal of delight.

  She darted from the car before he could say a word, staring up at the huge structure almost reverently as she clutched his coat to her shoulders. It was only about ten degrees above freezing, despite the fact that it was well into May, and her sharp breaths of excitement frosted on the evening air.

  As he helped the driver pull their luggage from the car, Vlad let his lips quirk upward in an unfettered smile.

  It was refreshing to see someone so absorbed in their art that they were utterly and completely consumed by it. That didn’t happen very much these days, but Vlad had known Charlotte was just the type the moment she had first argued for the validity of her plans in his office. Now, that seemed so long ago, and the rampant wonder in her eyes made his insides twist in some unknown emotion - unrelenting in its intensity.

  At that precise moment, she was the exact opposite of polished and prepared. He had taken her from her house in a thin-t-shirt, leggings and sneakers, and she still wore them now. Her hair was mussed and she was wrapped in a jacket several sizes too large for her - but Charlotte cared little.

  A look that might have been unflattering on other women only seemed to enhance her beauty. The flush of her cheeks - the way her eyes gleamed and her full lips parted as she took in every stimulus she possibly could...it was remarkable how lovely she was.

  “Mr. Kensley!” He snapped from his reverie to see the hotel manager, Yuri Vasiliev, hurrying down the main steps to greet him. Every time Vlad - or any of his family, for that matter, came to St. Petersburg, they always stayed at the Four Seasons. By now, Vasiliev always prepared to greet them warmly whenever they arrived - a gesture that Vladimir found he appreciate more than he might like to admit. “Welcome back to St. Petersburg!” He extended this welcome in Russian as he wrung Vladimir’s hand enthusiastically, so when Charlotte turned, she looked at the both of them in confusion.

  “Always good to be back, Yuri. Is everything in order?”

  “Of course.” Vasiliev was an earnest, balding man in his mid-fifties with a ready smile. Vlad had, on several occasions, met his wife, who reminded him of what his mother might have been like had circumstances been better during his childhood. “I have prepared the penthouse suite for you, and a deluxe suite for your guest.” His gaze slid to Charlotte, who merely provided a small smile and a wave, clueless as to what they were discussing. If Yuri found her appearance strange in the least, he didn’t say a single word. Instead, he merely smiled at her in return.

  “Welcome to St. Petersburg, Ms. Gardner. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Charlotte beamed, moving forward to slide her hand from one of Vladimir’s sleeves to shake his outstretched one. “Thank you. You have a gorgeous city.”

  “I’m sure it will be improved by your adding to its skyline.” At the compliment, Charlotte reddened visibly, looking away.

  “You’re far too kind.”

  How the hell was every man on the planet so much more adept at complimenting women than Vlad himself? Of course, Yuri had always been a charmer. Even Vlad’s mother thought so on the few occasions she came to visit. The man was a hotel manager, so, of course, it was his job to charm; but that didn’t mean Vlad was any less jealous at how easily he elicited a smile from Charlotte. “I’m sure you are both weary from your trip. Please come out of the cold.” He gestured to two hotel employees who, between them, scooped up their luggage and followed the three into the hotel.

  When the entered the building
, of course, Charlotte paused for a full five minutes to take in the grandeur of the foyer. She stared up at the intricately sculpted ceiling and sighed in pleasure at the gilded trim and marble floors while Yuri beamed in pride. “It’s absolutely breathtaking,’ She breathed, grinning at him.

  No matter how many times he had seen that smile of hers, Vlad was never as immune as he thought - and he was constantly fighting the need to have it directed at him.

  “Constructed almost two hundred years ago,” Yuri answered her with grave pride, “Though, of course, now the building is equipped with all the amenities one could ever need.” Charlotte followed him like an eager puppy, eager to learn more about the building, as Vladimir hung back, torn between amusement and envy.

  It was almost enough to make him wish he knew more about architecture. There was a clear path there to Charlotte’s attentions…

  Even if he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about pursuing them.

  About thirty minutes after they entered the hotel, they actually made it to the fourteenth floor and their rooms. By now, Yuri was fully invested in Charlotte’s visible obsession with the hotel and was commenting on everything from the carpet to the wood paneling on the walls. When he opened the door to her suite, however, he fell silent, allowing the young woman to take in the full majesty of the room.

  And that was exactly what the redhead did.

  She took a few steps into the luxuriously appointed suite, taking in the gorgeous chandelier over the sitting area, the gleaming kitchenette and the jaw-dropping view of St. Petersburg beyond. Wordlessly, she ran her hands over the smooth leather of the furniture and the brilliant sheen of the gold and mahogany wood paneling on the wall. Then, she headed over to the window to look out open the city without speaking a word.