by Ellen Lane
Vladimir arched a brow. “Are you my psychiatrist now?”
“No, but I’d honestly love to see a shrink try and tackle you. I’d grab popcorn for that show.” Vladimir rolled his eyes.
“There is nothing wrong with the way I operate, Toshiro. It works. It had always worked.”
“And you’re always miserable,” Toshiro blew out a breath. “Right up until the moment you let go.”
It was late - and getting later. Despite the boost of caffeine to his system, Vladimir didn’t think he was in any shape to discuss this now. His brother always picked the worst times to try and drag him into complicated conversations. “Toshiro, the sooner I go home, the better. And that means we have to finish this paperwork, so let’s finish it.”
He supposed that his brother was too tired himself to argue much, but Vlad would have had to be blind to miss the scrutinizing look Shiro shot him out of the corner of his eye. Almost as if he were looking for something.
Though exactly what, Vladimir wasn’t sure.
After forty-eight straight hours of work, Vladimir was too tired to do much more than collapse into the bed in his penthouse suite. He sent Charlotte a quick message letting her know that he had returned, and tried not to think of the packing he had to do later. If he was in no fit state to have Charlotte beneath him, he certainly didn’t want to drag out his suitcase and fill it.
He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep until he woke around nine in the evening, the lavish room lit only by the dim light of a lamp. Vlad lie there, half-asleep, until a low rustling sound stirred him into instant consciousness. He sat up immediately, fixated on a shadow across the room - and found, to his surprise, Charlotte, perched in an armchair at the foot of the bed.
She was meticulously folding several freshly laundered pairs of slacks before dropping them into the bag at her feet. For a moment, Vladimir watched her, totally flummoxed.
At the sound of his rising, she looked up to find him staring at her and the corner of her full mouth raised in an amused smile. “Well, Good Morning.”
“What are you doing?” Vladimir blurted in reply - ever tactful, as usual.
Charlotte demonstrated by folding another pair of slacks before placing them in his bag. “Well, we’re leaving tomorrow, so I had them do your dry cleaning. And now, I’m putting said dry-cleaning into your suitcase.”
“Why?” It was an inane question, and Vlad could only reason that it had passed his lips because he was still half-asleep. Charlotte merely arched an auburn brow at his inquiry.
“Why not? You’re tired. You need to sleep. I might as well make myself useful if they don’t need me at the jobsite anymore. I’ve already said all my goodbyes. Unless…” She trailed off, wrinkling her nose, “Please don’t tell me you’re OCD about other people touching your things. I’m already half done.”
“No…. I…” Vlad found himself inexplicably tongue-tied. She obviously hadn’t come here with the intention of climbing in bed with him - and she wasn’t trying to seduce him. The only thing she was doing was packing his clothing in his stead. “Thank you.”
Charlotte answered absently, now folding a thick woolen sweater. “You should go back to sleep. You’ll wake up tomorrow well-rested.”
And having entirely spent their last twelve hours without feeling her body against his.
Vladimir frowned at her blasé attitude. Didn’t she want to be with him again? It was well established that their hunger for one another was pretty much insatiable...so why would she come to his room to pack his things without asking anything more of him?
“Don’t look at me like that,” the redhead smirked, “It’s a one-time thing. If you’re allowed to worry about me, I can at least do this for you. Don’t worry, I’m not hunting for credit cards or anything. Go back to sleep.”
Like hell he would.
Vladimir raised himself onto his hands and knees, making his way to the foot of the bed to take a pair of socks from Charlotte’s hand and toss them aside. Without any further warning, he yanked her into his arms - and his bed.
The redhead landed on his chest in a mess of limbs with a sharp yelp a moment before his mouth covered hers. Vladimir kissed her until she was breathless, her fingers sliding through his hair in desperation...and then he stopped.
Drawing his head back, he looked up at her flushed cheeks and her gleaming hazel gaze. In another forty-eight hours, they would be back in LA, and this…. well, if there was any chance that it was going to continue, it would become a lot more difficult.
So now, while things were simple, he would have one last night with her. One last night where little mattered but the way she felt in his arms, clenching around him, screaming his name.
He wouldn’t think of LA, of his father or what was expected of him. He wouldn’t think of his brother and Athena, and the desperate, secret feelings the young woman harbored for him. And, most of all, he wouldn’t think of what it meant that Charlotte had come to see him without sex in mind. All of that was far too dangerous when he was mere hours away from returning to a world that threatened to eat him alive.
And so, for once, Vladimir resolved to take his brother’s advice.
And let go.
**
Before she left for Russia, three weeks seemed like an eternity to Charlotte. But now that they had gone, she realized just how fast they’d flown by.
She found herself in somewhat of a daze as the car took them to the airport. Next to her, Vladimir was silent and thoughtful. For all intents and purposes, Charlotte should be happy to he headed back to LA. She missed her apartment. She missed Lila and she missed the familiarity of the city.
But she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen between she and Vlad when they returned. Russia had been a little bubble of isolation for them. While they hadn’t been flagrant in their affections, here, at least, they had existed. In the US, where the media was rapid for any scrap of information they could get, Charlotte couldn’t imagine the man - already media wary - being anywhere near as open.
Or, indeed, even risking any scandal at all.
And what scandal could be bigger than sleeping with the lead architect on a groundbreaking project.
To be honest, Charlotte would completely understand if he decided to end things where they stood. They’d had their indulgent little fling and gotten all the wild-fuck out of their systems (at least, theoretically), and now they could go back to being diametrically opposed. Friends with conflicting interests.
But that wasn’t what she wanted. What Charlotte wanted had come to her suddenly and startlingly that morning as she had lain in Vladimir’s arms in their last few hours in bed.
And it frightened her.
Vladimir Kensley was not the kind of man she could ever have seen herself with. He was stern, commanding, and analytical beyond anything she could honestly endure. And yet, here she was, craving him. Casting secret glances at him in the car and wondering if he would ever touch her again. Wanting more.
But the very idea, she knew, was fundamentally flawed. Not only was she the last woman Vladimir Kensley would willingly enter into a relationship with, they were completely incompatible in all the ways that counted. She was artistic, he was numerical. She was a free thinker, he liked everything painstakingly by the book.
It should be enough that she still had a couple of months to see him. To drool over him and maybe resume their daily food adventures. But when those months were over, even those things would be lost to her.
And so would Vladimir.
He had gotten under her skin in the worst way, and the gravity of the admission was enough to make Charlotte’s palms sweat in anxiety. There was no way she could let him find out. The last thing she wanted was for the man to think that she was weak for him when she had only ever shown him a strong face. That was what she needed to deal with a man like Vladimir.
Between them, there was no room for emotional entanglement, so why the hell would she so rudely insert co
mplication?
She wouldn’t. That was the only solution.
Thankfully, a pleasant surprise at the airport distracted her from her thoughts for long enough to grant her a reprieve from her rapidly growing headache. Toshiro and Athena had skipped breakfast to come and see them off, and they were waiting for them at the ticket counter.
“Don’t forget to drop me a message every now and then.” Athena pulled Charlotte into a tight embrace that Charlotte appreciated more than she was willing to admit. She could only pray that, one day, she and Athena met again. She liked the dark-haired girl’s sweet disposition and honest way of speaking.
“Of course. Take care of yourself.” When Athena released her, Charlotte turned to see Toshiro speaking in low tones to Vladimir. They pulled one another into a quick embrace before he turned to her with a handsome smile.
“It was lovely to meet you, Charlotte. I hope that our firm continues to work with innovators like you in the future.” Charlotte took his hand and shook it warmly.
“Thank you, Mr. Kensley. A pleasure to meet you as well.”
“Please, call me Toshiro.” The Japanese man jerked his head in Vladimir’s direction teasingly. “That’s Mr. Kensley. Don’t upset him by giving me the title.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe Vladimir should spend more time with his brother. It would almost certainly improve his mood. Around people like Toshiro, it was hard not to smile.
“Alright, that’s quite enough out of you, Shiro. We have to catch our flight.” Vladimir surprised her when his hand pressed into the small of her back. “Call me when you get to Nairobi.”
“Will do.” Shiro nodded at his brother. Charlotte didn’t miss the discreet look that passed between them as Vladimir hurried her away. They were, indeed, on the cusp of running late for their flight. They weren’t taking a private jet this time, but a commercial airliner.
But that didn’t mean the trip wasn’t luxurious. The company had booked them first class, and Charlotte was astounded to discover the luxury with which one was treated on the upper deck of an A380 jumbo jet.
She knew that she should be preparing for her return to LA and everything that awaited her there, but she found herself entirely too enchanted by the full reclining seats and gourmet menus they’d been provided. Vladimir, of course, was completely absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.
Charlotte told herself that this was just a preview of the way things were going to be once they returned to LA. There was a part of her - a very rebellious part - that wanted to simply ask Vladimir where they stood. That would clear everything up, and there would be no question of how she was supposed to act when they touched down.
But that was something a clingy, emotionally-attached woman would do - and Charlotte maintained that she was neither of those things. So, instead, she merely buried herself in a book, even though she could barely concentrate on the prose. That, she told herself, was better than nothing at all. All her questions would be answered, one way or another, when they returned to LA. That was all she needed to know.
Despite the luxury, the flight back from St. Petersburg was still a long one, and by the time they touched down, all she wanted was to see Lila and pass out in her own bed.
They were the last to deplane, as Vladimir was set on working until he was all but forced off the plane. They had barely reached the gate, however, when one of the attendants pulled both of them aside. Charlotte assumed that it was to warn them that the media were waiting like rapid dogs at the security checkpoint, but she was surprised when the attendant merely handed a phone from the desk to Vladimir.
Who the hell would need to talk to him so badly that they called him at the airport? Certainly, they’d been in the air for a long time, but if it was someone that needed him that badly, surely they would have tried his cell?
Charlotte hauled her carry-on to a nearby seat and sank into it. She knew that she and Vladimir weren’t technically together, but she wasn’t about to abandon him here. Guiltily, she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before their commitments once again forced them apart.
She was just wondering if he meant to take a car straight to the office - it was still early afternoon here - when a sharp demand echoed through the gate. Its wild tone was enough to make everyone present look in the direction of the main desk, Charlotte included.
But she, unlike everyone else present, knew exactly who had made it.
At the anguished sound, the young woman’s heart leapt into her throat and she turned to see Vladimir clinging to the edge of the desk with a vice like grip. His face had gone deathly pale. Charlotte immediately stood, taking a step towards him.
What the hell was going on? It was completely and totally unlike Vladimir to make a scene...she could only begin to guess who he was on the phone with to incite such a response from him.
“When?” After his initial outburst, however, he lowered his voice. His grip on the counter, however, remained ironclad. “Where? Alright. Yes, alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up without another word before turning to the alarmed looking desk attendant. “I need to be on the next flight to New York City.”
“O-of course!” Charlotte didn’t think anyone in their right mind would be able to refuse a man looking as frantic as Vladimir did. “Just give me a moment to reserve your seat.”
By this time, Charlotte had made her way over to the counter as well. Vladimir didn’t even seem to be cognizant of what was going on around him. He was staring at out the window at the planes taxiing in and out of the gate, but she doubted that he was actually seeing any of it. Though she knew she might be overstepping her boundaries, she lay a hand atop his gently. “Vladimir...what happened? Is everything alright?”
He looked down at her, his expression desolate, and didn’t answer her right away. When he did speak, his voice was low and incredulous, with an edge of tension. “My father is sick. I have to get to New York.”
Well she certainly didn’t blame him there. Were it Charlotte’s father, she would have done the very same. It made her stomach twist to imagine just how sick Jackson Kensley must be to prompt this sudden change of events. She only hoped it was nothing life-threatening.
“What do you need me to do?” She found herself asking, doing the best she could to remain level-headed. “I can go to the jobsite and talk to Charlie, tell him what’s happened. I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”
“No.” She was surprised at the vehemence of his answer, her eyes widening. It took Vladimir a moment, but he noticed as well, and he lowered his voice considerably. “I need...That is…. I’d like you to accompany me.”
Charlotte didn’t know what to say.
In all her time working with Vladimir, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him lose his composure. This, certainly, was a loss of composure. She might have thought he’d send her directly to the office, told her to make sure that everything remained on schedule while he was gone. After all, they’d just spent three weeks in Russia. They hadn’t even been on site in LA for almost a month. The project demanded their attention.
But Vladimir obviously wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, he was focused on his father in New York. Though Charlotte knew that it was selfish of her, she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of pride that Vladimir wanted her with her. It might be against the grain of his character, but she could think of only one reason why he’d want her in New York: and it had nothing to do with work.
Her sensibilities warned her that remaining professional would be the best policy. Even if Vladimir did want her for moral support, their time for intimacy was over. If she went with him to New York, she had no doubt that the media would eat them alive - he just wasn’t thinking straight enough for that to be a factor. Perhaps pointing that out would make him reconsider his decision.
But she wanted to go. Charlotte wanted to be there for him in his time of need...wanted to prove that, perhaps, what she wanted with this m
an wasn’t as completely outlandish as she might have thought.
If Vladimir needed her, she wasn’t going to refuse him. “Alright.” She answered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek gently. “I’ll go with you.”
Vladimir all but crushed her against the hard panes of his chest, and, to her shock, Charlotte could feel him trembling slightly.
Jesus Christ. What the hell had happened? “Thank you.” His words of gratitude were low and firm, and, within a split second, he’d released her to talk to the assistant about the next flight to the east coast.
It took roughly two minutes for Charlotte’s feelings of self-import to turn to worry. Vladimir wouldn’t be flying back to New York for anything less than an emergency...which meant that Jackson Kensley must be seriously ill. The mere thought was enough to make her stomach twist in apprehension.
Just watching the dark-haired man in Russia was enough to show Charlotte that, even if he opened up to few other people, he held his family in high regard. And anyone who’d ever read a paper or seen a television interview on the Kensley family knew how tightly knit they were.
She could only imagine what Vladimir must be feeling right now. That stoic, commanding presence of his broken down with a single phone call.
While he was getting their tickets, the redhead stepped beyond the gate to make a quick call to Lila.
“Well hello. Haven’t heard from you in ages! Thought you might have gotten lost in Siberia!”
Usually, Charlotte would have appreciated the joke, but just now, she wasn’t in the mood. “Hi, Lila. I’m sorry I haven’t called. Russia was crazy and something...something else has just come up.”
At her tone, Lila immediately sobered. “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
“Vladimir’s father is sick. We just touched down in LA but he has to go to New York and…” Jesus, how to explain the next part. Though Charlotte had intended to call her friend at least once a week while in St. Petersburg, she had never managed to get around to it. That meant that her sleeping with the man would be news to her roommate. “I’m going with him.”