Innocent in the Ivory Tower

by Lucy Ellis

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘I HAD wild uninhibited sex in broad daylight. I had lots of wild, uninhibited sex in broad daylight,’ Maisy confided to the pillow, as if this were a secret, and Alexei laughed. The sound was so reassuring Maisy subsided into the vibrations of his chest, wanting to stay curled against him for as long as possible. His large, tight-muscled frame took up more than half the bed, but she didn’t mind.

  Alexei ran a possessive hand over her hip, now covered by a single sheet. He had so thoroughly explored her body in the last two hours he couldn’t imagine a freckle or dimple he wasn’t familiar with, but she insisted on covering herself, revealing a modesty that oddly touched him.

  He pulled her tighter into the shelter of his body.

  He never did cuddling.

  He performed, he took his pleasure, and then he showered and dressed and left.

  Maisy curled against him, as if heat-seeking, her closing lashes soft on her round cheeks. He’d exhausted her, and the thought satisfied an entirely primitive, unreconstructed part of himself.

  The more sophisticated part of him was planning ahead. How to fit her into his schedule; how to set the parameters of their relationship …

  She has no idea who I am or what I require of her, he thought, and it was an oddly charged feeling—one he didn’t want to relinquish yet. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but for a time he had felt a barrier come down. He’d felt free to just luxuriate in this closeness. Soon enough they would have to get out of bed and harsh reality would intrude. He didn’t want clingy, didn’t want emotions, didn’t want a relationship. He wanted sex. In return he would give her anything she desired.

  Foremost, he didn’t want her to nurture any illusions about him.

  Then why did it feel as if he was shutting her out and in the process shutting down a part of himself?

  He bedded glamorous women for a reason. It had nothing to do with their allure. Hell, he doubted they were even his type. But they came with a pack drill. They knew what they were about, they knew what they wanted, and they knew what he was offering. There were limits to these liaisons. Tara had been a perfect example.

  But just the thought of her this morning ran a chill through him, and he tightened his arms around Maisy. Tara was a reminder of why Maisy had snuck in under his radar. This uncomplicated sweetness was what he wanted—probably needed. Maisy had come to him with nothing but her wonderful, warm, accommodating body.

  Peace was what he was feeling, and in answer to it he rolled her onto her back and settled himself across her, cradling his head on her belly.

  It would be good for them both. She clearly hadn’t had much of a life, from what she’d told him with her mum and the gig with Anais’s baby. He could offer her luxury, travel and a speed dial for her sexual repertoire. He in turn would get this much joy and sweetness in his bed.

  And he would not let himself be weak and mistake it for anything else.

  He shoved that thought aside and luxuriated in the feeling of her. After everything that had gone before it was like being reborn. He needed six months of Maisy. In fact if he was a doctor he’d recommend it.

  She smelled so good—warm female skin, the faint traces of the tangerine soap she used, and sex. She hadn’t rushed off to wash herself and it was nice, just lying here with her, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing under his head, knowing she wasn’t going anywhere.

  She sat up, dislodging his head. ‘Kostya,’ she said.

  Realising a response was required from him, Alexei gazed up at her, a smile of disbelief on his slumberous face. ‘Relax, Maria will get him up.’

  ‘I always get him up,’ Maisy protested, swinging her legs off the bed, trying to drag the sheet with her.

  Alexei had no intention of moving. ‘Come back to bed, dushka. Maria can look after him today.’

  Even as he said it Alexei registered Maisy’s disapproval.

  She made a dash for his shirt and thrust her arms frantically into the sleeves, covering herself as quickly as she could. She didn’t say anything, and the longer that went on the more annoyed Alexei was feeling. The baby was fine. He needed a bit of attention. Where in the hell was she going?

  ‘Maisy!’ He didn’t like the bark in his voice, and Maisy clearly didn’t either. She swung around, hair flying, frowning at him as if he had offended her. ‘Please come back to bed,’ he said with studied patience.

  Maisy shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she said.

  ‘Fine.’ He bounded off the bed and headed for the bathroom. He was going to shower and start the day. Maisy needed to know who was in charge.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she said.

  ‘The entertainment is over. I need a shower and a shave,’ he shot back at her.

  Maisy paled. Her anxiety to get downstairs to the nursery dulled as the impact of that word pinned her to the spot.

  Entertainment.

  She stood staring at the open bathroom door. She felt as if he’d slapped her. He couldn’t mean it. She wanted to run after him and tackle him, demand he take it back, but there wasn’t time.

  Kostya.

  She kept moving, her heart pounding as she skittered along the hallway, praying no one appeared around the corner to find her naked except for a man’s shirt. Alexei’s shirt. Everyone would know what they had been doing, if they didn’t already. It wouldn’t matter so much if it was the beginning of some sort of a relationship; it mattered a great deal to her if he thought of her as providing ‘entertainment’.

  Her heartbeat began to slam inside her chest, heavy and dull, as reality laid a cold hand on her shoulder. All the drama of last night came rushing back. He’d said some pretty hurtful things and he hadn’t taken one of them back. As if sex cancelled it all out. Although for him it probably did. He seemed very pleased with himself. And why wouldn’t he be? One meal and she was on her back. What sort of girl jumped into bed with a man so quickly?

  Emotions were roiling through her and she could barely keep a lid on them. Oh, God. It was all too clear. She had made a huge leap of faith, and he had had a one-night stand.

  She had to walk through the nursery to get to her room. The realisation brought her to a halt. She couldn’t walk in like this—not if Kostya wasn’t alone.

  Trying not to think about the humiliation to come, she retraced her steps. She could hear the sound of running water. She took a deep breath and walked into the luxurious bathroom. Alexei was standing under a waterfall of water, head down, shoulders hunched. His beautiful long lean body took her breath away, still. Knowing he was an absolute bastard didn’t change that.

  He looked up as he sensed her presence, his lips parting. He cut off the water. ‘Changed your mind, dushka?’

  There was something about that endearment, that casual endearment, that twisted the knife. Maisy blocked the truckload of pain she could feel coming and said, ‘I need my dress. Where did you put my dress?’

  ‘A little cold in the shirt, Maisy?’ He grabbed a towel and began drying his hair, completely unselfconscious about his nudity.

  Maisy focussed her eyes on a spot across the room and repeated, ‘I need my dress.’

  ‘I heard you.’ He casually wrapped the towel around his lean hips and knotted it. ‘It’s safe to look, dushka. Although I’ve got no idea what’s spooked you, Maisy. It’s not as if you haven’t been introduced.’

  She wanted to hit him.

  That did it.

  Maisy stepped up to him and for a moment she fancied he actually looked expectant—as if she was going to launch herself into his arms after everything he had said and done.

  Bastard. She slapped him as hard as she could across his face. His head jarred slightly to the right and then slowly came around again to stare down at her. Maisy took a backward step.

  He brought a hand slowly up to his jaw and rubbed. ‘Feel better?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll get your dress.’

  It was all over. She could still
feel where he had been inside her and yet it was over, Maisy registered. She couldn’t believe she had hit him. He was cold, arrogant, self-centered, and she was … on the premises and … happy to oblige.

  That was how it was, wasn’t it?

  Yet as the seconds turned into minutes she began to lose her ground. Maria would be with Kostya, as she was every morning. The realisation had stolen up on her even before she’d walked in here, and now it bloomed with full force. She had overreacted. She had been lying in that bed, suddenly feeling alone and selfconscious, terrified of what was to come, what this sudden new intimacy meant, and she had run away rather than face it. Somehow she had convinced herself that if the sex stopped he wouldn’t want her in the bed, and she’d felt too raw to face that so she had jumped out. He might be angry with her now, but that didn’t mean everything was over before it began.

  Alexei had reacted appallingly, but at least he was fetching her dress. Dan hadn’t even given her the taxi fare home.

  A soft gust of bittersweet amusement at her overreaction made her drop her head. She was hopeless at all this men stuff, but she would get better.

  His arms came around her from behind and she was drawn up into a bear hug that turned her insides to mush. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered against her ear.

  Maisy turned and burrowed deep into him and hung on. Relief made her limp.

  Alexei rested his chin on the top of her warm head and released a deep sigh. ‘Go and see Kostya.’

  It was, she recognised, a magnanimous gesture. He wasn’t used to making room for other people in his life, yet here he was making space for Kostya, putting his needs first. Maybe accommodating her a little.

  I’m being considerate, thought Alexei, enjoying the results of a clinging Maisy. I’m attuned to her feelings. Wasn’t that the current jargon? But something in him regretted having hurt her.

  Maisy reacted predictably for once, turning up her face to be kissed and reassured. He knew the drill. But there was no kiss. That little crease was back between her brows.

  ‘What am I going to tell Maria if she asks where I’ve been?’

  Maria? Who cared about the housekeeper? ‘My sex life is not Maria’s business.’

  The little crease deepened. ‘Not you—me.’

  ‘Maisy, I chased you down to Ravello yesterday. I had dinner with you on the rooftop. Everybody knows.’

  She blushed.

  She blushed—after two hours of lying naked under him and over him.

  But there were certain things she didn’t do, he registered, and when he led her in some directions she did not come with him. It hadn’t mattered—he’d been so caught up in the sheer impact of being with her.

  It was unlikely, but he had to ask.

  ‘Maisy, were you a virgin?’

  ‘I can’t believe you asked me that.’ She tried to wriggle out of his arms, but suddenly Alexei could think of no better way to spend the next five minutes than drilling Maisy for some personal information.

  Women usually spilled their guts on the first encounter—gave him well-edited potted histories of their empty lives until he and his billions walked into their world. One Hollywood actress had tried to persuade him she had never enjoyed sex until him. He might have been flattered had he not seen her by the pool of his home in Florida intimately entwined with another woman.

  He watched Maisy squirm, her round cheeks hot and pink, her red-gold curls a tangled out-of-control mass. She was using it to hide her face from him. He knew he could never let her know about his former life. She would be horrified. Little hot-to-trot Maisy had a great deal of girl-next-door in her.

  He’d known it yesterday afternoon, when he’d climbed back into the Ferrari and seen her mortification. She wasn’t a gold-digger. She was just a little out of her depth. When he’d lowered the levels she had risen to meet him. He’d been rewarded with the most incredible sex he had ever had.

  Be nice to me. Even the sound of her voice stoked him. She loaded the simplest words with carnal meaning. Yet here she was blushing, embarrassed.

  He’d read her wrong. Again. Not only was she a good girl, she was a romantic.

  ‘How many men, Maisy?’

  He knew he should have framed that question more sensitively, but he didn’t do sensitive.

  ‘How many women, Alexei?’ She jerked up her face, embarrassed, but with that edge he was beginning to look forward to.

  ‘Too many.’ His answer surprised even himself.

  She made a wry face, but he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes.

  She must never know. It would tear a big hole in that romantic little soul of hers.

  Stunned, Alexei wondered where that thought had come from. Pushing it aside, he gave her chin a gentle pinch.

  ‘How many, Maisy?’ he pressed.

  ‘Just one. Once.’

  She looked almost defiant as she said it, as if daring him to comment. Alexei, rocked by that little announcement, did his best to disguise it. He hadn’t thought for one moment she was a virgin, but now he knew she might as well be.

  ‘Could you tell?’ she framed awkwardly as his silence stretched on.

  He pushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘I think I’m very lucky,’ he said genuinely.

  It was clearly the right thing to say.

  Maisy sprang up and squeezed him around the neck. She was happy. He had made Maisy happy for the first time since they’d climbed out of bed and everything had gone pear-shaped. There was a lesson there. Keep her horizontal as often as possible.

  But there was Kostya to consider.

  ‘Kostya,’ she said, right on schedule.

  ‘I’ll go.’ He didn’t know why he volunteered, but he was beginning to understand any chance of uninterrupted play with Maisy could only be engineered if he loosened her grip on Kostya.

  Besides, it was time to build a relationship with the boy.

  Maisy was fastening herself back into her white gown when there was a knock on the door. She froze. ‘Miss Edmonds?’

  She recognised the voice and went to open the door. It was one of the girls from the kitchen. She merely held out an armful of supplies: some fresh clothes and her bag of toiletries.

  Maisy accepted them wordlessly, then remembered her manners and thanked the girl. Jeans and a T-shirt and plain cotton underwear. Alexei had not chosen these for her. She knew him now. She also knew he was not going to be discreet about any of this.

  Well, Maisy, in for a penny, in for a pound.

  She emptied the toiletries bag and found bubble bath. A bath. She was going to have a bath.

  She filled Alexei’s big tub, carefully hung up her dress, and submerged herself in warm sudsy water. Her spirit felt light. For the first time in a long time she felt young and desirable, and for the moment free of any responsibility except for herself. She stretched out her legs and draped her arms along the sides of the tub. Her body ached in an unfamiliar but entirely satisfying way.

  Alexei had behaved as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her and she had gloried in his obvious enjoyment of her body. He had been so tender with her, putting a lie to that ‘entertainment’ crack. Yet she couldn’t ignore it. He had made it for a reason.

  She sensed that, as much as he wanted her, his instinct was to push her away. Strange as the thought was, it was as if he had a wall around him. She’d felt it back at Lantern Square—how untouchable he seemed. Something had changed in the park yesterday. She’d seen the real man behind that wall when he’d hunkered down to Kostya’s level to reassure him. That same sweetness had been in the way he had removed her shoes last night. In these moments he had been reachable, human, vulnerable.

  But she sensed these glimpses were involuntary. He didn’t want the closeness she sought. Even as he had kept her snug in his arms, she had instinctively known this was as much as he was offering.

  She needed to be very careful. She needed to guard her heart.

  Kostya was pleased to see Maisy. He got up and toddled across the t
errace to throw up his arms for his morning cuddle.

  Alexei noted approvingly that a cuddle was all he required and then he was struggling to be put down. He ran back to his pedal car. Observing the child this morning, he had been aware of what Maisy had said to him last night about Leo’s absence and Anais’s inability to cope. But Kostya appeared to be a well-adjusted little boy—no signs of clinginess or insecurity. Her claims just didn’t add up. A huge part of him was relieved, but it worried him that she had lied. It didn’t align with the girl he was beginning to know.

  Alexei remained where he was, with a pile of newspapers from around the world, his smart phone and a strong espresso. It was a morning like any other when he wasn’t working—except for Maisy. She had pulled up her hair into a ponytail and wore jeans and a V-necked T-shirt. He didn’t want clingy—he didn’t do clingy—but Maisy had taken it way in the opposite direction. Clearly they were pretending not to know one another. Interesting. He decided not to react to her, waiting for her to come to him.

  Sipping his espresso, he idly thumbed through his schedule, lining up his phone appointments for the day.

  Maisy poured herself a glass of orange juice from the buffet and approached the table uneasily, waiting for Alexei to look up, to speak, with half of her attention attuned to Maria—who must know. He’d turned up yesterday and this morning she was bouncing out of his bed. It was one thing to be a sexually independent woman. It was another thing to have an audience—a traditional Italian audience.

  Before she sat down he half rose from his chair, his manners clearly so ingrained that even when he was ignoring her he behaved like a gentleman. Maisy settled herself, still waiting to be spoken to. Nothing. She looked around. Maria was clearing the buffet. Steadying her nerve, she watched Kostya for a while. She was constantly aware of Alexei, typing into his phone, stabbing with his thumb, and Maisy experienced his uninterest like a well-placed kick to her fledgling sexual self-confidence. It was exactly like the aftermath of her sleeping with Dan. She had dressed in the cold whilst he had answered emails, his back to her. Except this was worse—because as she had buttoned herself up she had known she didn’t care for Dan and had no intention of repeating the experience.