Innocent in the Ivory Tower

by Lucy Ellis

  This time she wanted to climb into Alexei’s lap. Her insides seemed to light up when she had his attention. Even now, as he fiddled with that stupid device, she couldn’t strip her eyes off him, was wishing he would just look up and acknowledge her. But she knew he wouldn’t. It was the equivalent of dressing in the cold.

  All of her insecurities came rushing back. Maybe he had changed his mind. She might have been able to attract him but she couldn’t hold him. Her mind went helplessly back over events, trying to find the flaws in their lovemaking. Had she done something he didn’t like? Had she not been responsive enough? He had wanted her to take him in her mouth but she hadn’t felt confident enough. Maybe that was it?

  She tried to sip her orange juice, but she was so tense it went down the wrong way and she ended up in a coughing fit.

  Alexei looked up as she set down the glass with a bump and choked. Tears of reaction had sprung into her eyes, sparking the deeply held pain she was nursing, and more brimmed and slid down her cheeks. She swiped at her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t realise she was crying because of him. It would put the nail in the coffin of her humiliation for him to see how deeply all this was affecting her.

  She pushed back her chair noisily, not looking at him.

  ‘Where are you going?’ He sounded genuinely surprised.

  ‘I’m disturbing you,’ she got out rapidly. ‘I’ll just go.’

  ‘You haven’t eaten any breakfast.’

  He had noticed? She hadn’t thought he’d even registered her presence.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ She had to get away from him. She walked blindly down the terrace, blinking rapidly.

  Then she heard Kostya’s high little voice. ‘Maisy!’ And she had to go back for him.

  However broken up she felt inside, she was all Kostya had. Funnily enough, he was all she had too. And as she hurried back the child met her halfway, arms extended to be lifted, cuddled, assured of her love. He was heavy, so she sank down onto the ground with him and rocked him in her arms, mustering a smile and reassuring chatter. She might be an abject failure with men, but she knew how to be a good mother to Kostya.

  ‘You have to leave him with me today,’ Alexei was saying. He was sauntering over, smart phone and papers abandoned, looking unaccountably edgy.

  Maisy looked up, her eyes still wet so that her lashes had a starfish effect. Alexei tried to block the accompanying flash of emotion as he remembered how uninhibitedly she had given herself to him. Now she was acting as if she wanted to be anywhere but around him.

  His first instinct was to reassure her, but it was clear she was carrying a bucketload of regrets. Well, tough. He wasn’t going to apologise for enjoying her body so thoroughly. Maisy was built for a man’s pleasure. Everything about her—from her wild glossy ringlets to the serious curve of her waist to the fulsome round of her bottom—sang to his libido. After too many women with borderline eating disorders, the curves and valleys of Maisy’s small yet womanly body reduced him to drooling, uncontrolled lust. He fully intended to keep her and have her again and again.

  He could deal with her regrets with jewellery. It always worked a treat with women’s moods. Experience told him put a diamond pendant in the valley between those magnificent breasts of hers and she’d soon cheer up. He’d organise Carlo to have a selection sent down tomorrow.

  Except deep down he knew jewellery would probably upset her.

  But for now he had a small child to wrest from her arms. A thought which didn’t make him feel particularly proud of himself. Especially with Maisy looking so incredibly vulnerable. It would be too easy to gather her up into his arms and soothe that edginess in her away. He’d played it cool this morning, aware of the staff observing them. Any other woman and it wouldn’t have mattered, but Maisy had unaccountably befriended a good many of the people who worked for him. Those seven days he had left her alone here had backfired on him. Shy as she was around him at times, she clearly had no trouble drawing other people to her and holding them.

  Everyone liked Maisy. Which was fine. Except it made him liking her slightly more awkward. He didn’t know why, but he felt a distinct vibe of disapproval from Maria this morning. It was ridiculous. Maisy was over twenty-one, and she was a sexually active young woman—it made sense they’d ended up in bed together. He wouldn’t be fulfilling his function as a fit and healthy twenty-nine-year-old male if he didn’t drag her off to bed.

  Yet that wasn’t exactly how it had been. Maisy wasn’t just some girl, and it hadn’t felt like a function. It was the beginning of something—he just couldn’t quite grasp what it was that was making him so uneasy. And this morning had been eminently worthwhile. In fact it had been a revelation.

  Still, he had to separate this woman from this child, and do it with the least amount of trauma to either of them.

  But Maisy was sitting there, being all that was motherly with Kostya, and it affected him. She was incredibly feminine—something he suspected was playing havoc with his usual defences in this kind of situation.

  He would have had to be blind this morning not to see how relieved she was to have him confirm their encounter was not casual. And now she was everything soft and tender, cradling the child in her arms, looking exactly like the kind of woman a nice guy would want to protect and cherish and probably marry. Hell, she had ‘wife material’ written all over her. Absolutely off-limits to a guy like him. Yet he’d gone ahead and infiltrated her affections anyway.

  It was about time he made sure she understood. He didn’t want her to nurture any illusions about him. He was a bastard, and Maisy needed to understand that before she started confusing what he was offering her with happy families and swamping them both in unnecessary and dangerous emotion.

  The thought assailed him that he wasn’t exactly clear on what he was offering her, and for one tiny moment he allowed himself a glimpse of just what a relationship with Maisy might look like.

  Which was probably why he didn’t pull any of his next punches.

  ‘Maisy, if you’re worried about Maria stop it now.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she muttered.

  ‘Maria is accustomed to female guests coming down to breakfast in a great deal less than you’re wearing, dushka. I wouldn’t let it bother you.’

  He knew it was a brutal thing to say. Something flinched inside as he actually witnessed the moment she took his meaning. Her eyes flew to his, and then flashed away as she turned her face into Kostya’s curls.

  Alexei felt cold to his stomach. Congratulations, he thought, you’re a bigger bastard than you thought.

  With the rug pulled from under her, Maisy scrambled for a foothold in this strange new world. How on earth was she going to stay here with him and pretend to be okay with all this? A little voice reminded her he wasn’t trying to insult her—he was just telling her how it was. It wasn’t as if she’d imagined he lived like a monk, but for him to actually tell her she was one in a queue was probably the hardest thing she would ever have to hear from him. Until he said goodbye. Which, clearly, would be sooner rather than later.

  But the truth wasn’t what she wanted this morning. She wanted a show of affection and his hand in hers … and a little reassurance.

  What she got was a man who had put in the time for sexual gymnastics first thing, but was keen to put it all behind him now the day had begun.

  ‘So, will you be spending the day with Kostya?’ Maisy was proud of how level she sounded—as if the waves of pain crashing over her were being deflected by a larger sense of self-preservation.

  ‘Why don’t you spend it with us?’

  He actually sounded gentler, but Maisy couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She started when he reached down to lift Kostya from her arms, and felt a twinge of regret when Kostya went so willingly. Maisy didn’t know what to do now. She felt awkward sitting at his feet, with images of the intimacies they had shared shredding the atmosphere between them. She couldn’t go back, she realised, panicked.


  ‘I think I want to be alone for a while,’ she said stolidly.

  Stupid girl, stupid girl, stupid girl.

  She clambered to her feet, feeling ungraceful and at a disadvantage, and walked as fast as she could across the terrace, not aware of where she was going, just conscious of wanting to put some distance between herself and the rocks on which she had shipwrecked herself.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ALEXEI watched her go. Why had he opened his big mouth? Why hurt her like this? It had barely begun and he was tearing shreds off her.

  ‘Want Maisy,’ wailed Kostya, clinging to his shirt front.

  Alexei looked down at the infant’s ominously reddening face. He was clearly reacting to all the tension. I’ve stuffed this up, Alexei thought flatly. ‘I want Maisy too, malenki chelovek.’

  She had reached the end of the terrace and he watched her hesitate, circle, looking for a way out. But this terrace led nowhere, and the glass doors were locked. For a moment he watched as she pushed at them, and then he saw her shoulders drop, saw her shake her head and lose heart.

  That was enough.

  He strode towards her, watched her face come up—her pale, lovely face—strained and tense. And he had put that tension there.

  He hadn’t meant to push her this far. He’d been trying for disengagement when all he was feeling was passionate connection. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

  ‘Maisy, we need to talk. I’ll hand Kostya over to Maria and then you’re coming with me.’ He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, eyes flashing.

  ‘You’re too late, Alexei,’ she slung at him fiercely. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.’

  Kostya released a huge cry and scrambled for Maisy. She took him into her arms, flashing daggers over his curly head. ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she breathed.

  Alexei made a very male European gesture with one hand and pinned her with his incredible eyes. ‘If you want to do it in front of the boy—fine. Here’s the deal, Maisy.’

  He spoke in a low, firm voice—the one she imagined he used in another life that didn’t involve crying children and emotional women who refused to vanish after sex.

  ‘This morning was incredible. I want to repeat it. Often. I want you in my life. Is that clear enough for you? Does that sort out the problem?’

  Incredible. Repeat it. He wanted her in his life.

  Maisy was sure he was wondering why she wasn’t cheering. Instead his coolly delivered words struck a flint of anger inside her. ‘I’m sure that works with all those other female guests of yours, but I require a little bit more finesse, Alexei, so I’m turning you down.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged, and Maisy’s face fell so fast it should have amused him. It didn’t. ‘I should have dragged you back to bed and manacled you to the bedpost,’ he declared. ‘But I don’t bring women here. The handcuffs and paraphernalia are in my Rome apartment.’

  Maisy huffed, trying to cover Kostya’s ears. ‘You’re disgusting!’

  ‘You weren’t saying that around dawn, dushka. How in the hell are you still blushing?’

  ‘I’m not used to stripping naked and bouncing around on a bed in broad daylight,’ she snapped.

  ‘Something that does incredible things for my ego,’ he replied complacently.

  Maisy huffed again.

  He gave her an arrested look. ‘You are adorable, Maisy.’

  She suddenly couldn’t wrest her eyes away from his. What was it he’d said about not bringing women here?

  ‘We can’t have this conversation in front of Kostya. Where’s Maria?’

  ‘Now she sees sense,’ Alexei murmured, stroking the back of Kostya’s head, managing to caress the back of Maisy’s hand. She didn’t pull away.

  Kostya distracted with strawberry yoghurt in the kitchen, Maisy walked with Alexei down into the garden. As they lingered before a stone fountain amidst the greenery Alexei said, in a dark, suggestive voice, ‘We could go back upstairs.’

  ‘I won’t answer that.’ She turned her face away, but a little smile was tugging at her lips.

  ‘We could do it here.’

  Maisy gasped. ‘I’m not making love to you in a garden. Anyone could see.’

  He smiled slowly at her. ‘You’re right. I’m very possessive, Maisy, as you’ll learn. I don’t want any other man seeing you when you climax.’

  ‘You’re so confident I would?’ she whispered, unsure they wouldn’t be overheard. She suddenly imagined dozens of men hiding in the bushes.

  ‘Would what? Wrap those lovely legs around my waist or climax?’

  ‘Both,’ she snapped.

  ‘I can’t force you, Maisy, but I can guarantee the climax.’

  He was outrageous. Maisy loved it. She bit her lip. She didn’t want to forgive him so soon, but her heart was racing and her skin was prickling and suddenly all she wanted was to wrap herself around him and not let go.

  But she couldn’t do it. He was going to break her heart.

  He was playful with her now, attentive. But how long was that going to last? Until the next time she said no or didn’t fit in with his schedule, or demanded what she knew he couldn’t give her: a loving relationship.

  She had to grow up and set some boundaries of her own.

  ‘I want to be with you too, Alexei. But I think it’s important to be pragmatic.’

  ‘Pragmatic?’ He didn’t like the sound of that, although half an hour ago it had been exactly what he was after.

  ‘When Kostya is settled I will need to go. It would be disastrous for him if he were to begin to think of us both as his parents—which is what would happen if … if I was in your life.’ Maisy knew she was being sensible. She knew she was putting the interests of the child above her own, and she knew he couldn’t argue with her on this. But, oh, she wished he would.

  Alexei was silent. The playfulness had evaporated.

  ‘He can’t see us being … affectionate together in front of him,’ she elaborated.

  ‘Affectionate?’

  ‘I know it’s not really affection, I know it’s just … sex. But he’s so little he’ll just see it as grown-ups showing love to each other, as we love him, and he’ll think we all belong together.’

  Alexei swore in Russian. Maisy blinked. His anger was evident, but it wasn’t directed towards her. It was strange, but she sensed he was looking inward.

  ‘I’m not an idiot, Alexei, I know how the world works. It’s bizarre that we even met, let alone that I’m here. I think what’s happened has happened because of the Kulikovs. We’re both grieving and it gives us a bond. We’ve been thrown together, and it was … inevitable.’

  ‘It was inevitable—I’ll agree with that,’ he replied, looking at her oddly. ‘So what are your terms, Maisy?’

  The question was blunt and to the point, and it hurt.

  Terms? She had no idea. ‘What—what usually happens when you’re with a woman? I mean, how does it work?’

  ‘I put her on the payroll and give her bonuses when she really performs.’

  Maisy blinked again, and for an aching moment Alexei realised she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

  ‘Do you really think I’d do that? Listen.’ He stood in front of her and tugged on her hands. ‘That bed upstairs. It’s mine. I don’t bring women here. At all. Ever. This is my sanctuary.’

  ‘No “female guests”?’

  ‘Only a few, very firmly attached to their husbands. This is where I bring family.’

  For a moment Maisy experienced an overwhelming explosion of belonging, even as common sense told her he was referring to Kostya. She was here because of Kostya. She wasn’t a part of this family of his. But she was his first woman here.

  ‘So what am I supposed to do?’ She aimed for casual, but it came out needy.

  Unexpectedly his thumb pressed against the frown line between her winged brows.

  ‘Don’t fret, Maisy. I’ll make it easy for you. You live with me
, you travel with me, you dodge the paparazzi with me. You’ll be written up as “a mysterious redhead” until they dig out your details—and they will dig them up, dirt and all. Anything you want to keep hidden you can forget about. So, any bank robberies I need to know about?’

  Maisy stared at him. Surely he was joking? No, not joking. ‘Nobody will be interested in me. I’m not anybody.’

  ‘Everything I do seems to attract some sort of interest. I’m hoping because you don’t have a profile it will blow over.’

  He’d thought about it. The realisation zoomed through Maisy’s faltering confidence and made her feel a little stronger. Alexei had considered how she would fit into his life before now. Then she remembered all the security: in London, at the airport. Only here it seemed to have evaporated. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but Alexei led a somewhat high-octane lifestyle.

  What was that going to mean for her? More importantly, what would it mean for Kostya when she was gone? And she would go. She had told Alexei that much and he hadn’t argued with her.

  It made it easier for him. It made it terrifying for her.

  He slid his big hands around her waist, sitting on the rim of the fountain and drawing her between his legs so that they were on eye level.

  ‘Kostya is severely going to cramp our style,’ he said, with a smile in his voice.

  ‘No, he’s a wonderful little boy,’ protested Maisy loyally. ‘And he’s so taken with you.’

  ‘I agree wholeheartedly he’s a great kid. But this “no affection” rule is going to be a bore.’

  ‘There’s no choice,’ she said solemnly.

  ‘There are always choices, dushka. You’ve exercised yours. Can you live by it?’

  Maisy swayed into him. In his world there were choices—rich men always had choices. Unless by some miracle a leopard changed his spots and he fell head over heels in love with her … no, she didn’t have a choice. She only had an inevitable outcome.

  Alexei’s arms came around her and he laid his head on the soft warm curve of her breasts. He released a lovely, deep, satisfied groan.