Innocent in the Ivory Tower

by Lucy Ellis

  ‘Ivanka had no business doing that.’ His voice was hard.

  ‘Maybe not, but you’d never have told me. Alexei, you were seven years old!’

  He didn’t even flinch.

  She couldn’t bear the bleakness in his eyes.

  ‘What’s the significance of today?’

  He continued to look through her and Maisy felt her resolve slipping. But she had to try. Knowing even as she closed the distance between them and slid her arms around his waist that he would push her away, she did it anyway, feeling him stiffen in her arms.

  But he didn’t push her away. He didn’t shift an inch. She tightened her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. She could feel his heart beating. Thudding.

  ‘May seventeenth is my birthday.’

  A simple statement, but one Maisy felt soul-deep. This was what he did for his birthday. This was how he celebrated. Nobody even knew.

  ‘I wish you’d told me,’ was finally all she could think to say.

  ‘It’s just another day, Maisy.’

  ‘But it brings back the past for you.’

  It was the wrong thing to say. He took her by the elbows, physically setting her back from him.

  ‘Listen, I know you mean well, dushka, but I don’t need this.’

  ‘This? Confiding in me?’

  ‘Sympathy.’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘I’m a big boy, Maisy.’

  Yes, the little boy she wanted to comfort was all grown up. This was the result.

  ‘Your sympathy is misplaced,’ he said with finality. Then he turned away. ‘I’ll have some clothes sent down to you.’

  ‘I’m not offering you sympathy,’ she asserted shakily. ‘Don’t go like this, Alexei. Why won’t you let me in?’

  But part of her already knew why. She had never really been part of his inner circle to begin with.

  ‘Maisy—’ His big shoulders dropped and he swung around, a familiar rueful smile tugging at his mouth as if he was finding it difficult to be assertive with her.

  It was then she recognised something that had been staring her in the face for a long time now if only she’d had the eyes to see it. She was the only person he did this for. Waited, listened, smiled. With everyone else it was clipped or cool or übersophisticated. The facade. With her he was like this … gentler, more human. She conjured up the Alexei she had first come up against in Lantern Square, hard as nails, taking no prisoners. Certainly not listening to her.

  Well, he listened to her now. He’d been listening to her for weeks. She just hadn’t been asking the right questions.

  ‘Sometimes I feel I know next to nothing about you,’ she admitted. ‘Those men, Valery and Stiva, they’re your family, aren’t they? You must love them very much. And Leo—you must miss him.’ She swallowed hard, took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘But I’m here.’ She paused to let that sink into his thick skull, then tunnelled on. ‘I met Tara Mills this afternoon. I had this silly idea all your ex-girlfriends were perfect goddesses, but Tara was just … cold and angry. Boy, is she angry with you.’

  ‘I didn’t invite her, Maisy. She came with Dimitri Kouris.’

  Alexei inserted this so fast Maisy almost smiled, and then reassured him she wasn’t going to break into a jealous tirade.

  In the end she shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter either way.’ And saying it made it so. ‘But it made me think you couldn’t have been happy with her, and you’ve seemed happy with me until today.’

  ‘I am happy, Maisy.’ He sounded so sincere, but he didn’t make a move to touch her and his actions spoke louder than words.

  She put her head to one side, studying him. ‘You look about as happy as I feel, and that’s saying something. You’re an amazing man, Alexei Ranaevsky. I don’t think I’ve stopped long enough to smell the coffee on that one. To have come to where you are, when someone like me wouldn’t have had the resilience to even survive, it makes you pretty special.’

  ‘So now I’m your hero?’

  He gave her that cynical smile she’d seen him use on other people. But it didn’t work on her. She knew him—or was coming to understand him. She loved him, and he was running scared from it. His past was so bleak he couldn’t even recognise what was staring him in the face, but he sensed it, and it had him on the run.

  ‘No, you’re my boyfriend.’

  That wiped the smile off his face. And there it was. The stretch between what she needed from him and what he was willing to offer.

  She attempted to deflect his predictable reaction. ‘Don’t look so worried, Alexei. I know today’s hard for you and I haven’t made it any easier. But you could have confided in me just a little. I mean, who would I tell? Kostya?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t mean to isolate you.’

  ‘You haven’t. It’s been nice, just the three of us, but I understand it’s not enough for you, and I like your friends—or what I’ve seen of them. Ivanka has been very kind to me.’

  ‘What’s not enough for me?’ Alexei zeroed in on the one thing she’d hoped would get lost in her rush of words.

  ‘The three of us.’ She swallowed. ‘Me.’ She hurried on. ‘I didn’t realise until today how different your life must have been before us. Leo and Anais lived very quietly at home. I didn’t see this side of things. I mean, there were famous people on this boat, Alexei.’

  Alexei’s expression softened, some of the tension leaving him. ‘They’re just people, Maisy, and not particularly interesting for all their fame or money.’

  ‘“A crowd” you called them. Why do you invite them?’

  ‘Honestly, Maisy, after today I’ve got no idea. What a disaster.’

  ‘I’m sorry I wrecked everything. You didn’t need to empty the boat.’

  ‘You didn’t wreck anything,’ he asserted in a driven undertone. ‘I was a damned fool, dragging you along to this. I had an insane notion I could keep everything as it was, but that’s impossible. You don’t fit into this life, Maisy. You never did. And I’m sorry you had such a lousy day. I take full responsibility for it.’

  Maisy stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying above the roaring in her head. What did he mean she didn’t fit into his life? Okay, she needed to get over this. She needed to put him first right now. Ignore the panic scrambling for a grip in her head and just focus. She’d been doing a good job of it. Dropping the ball now would be disastrous.

  ‘I made an idiot of myself without any help from you, Alexei.’

  ‘Nobody thinks you’re an idiot, Maisy.’ He closed the space between them and did what she had been wanting him to do all day. He framed her face, bent and kissed her. Gently, sweetly, far too briefly. ‘I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.’

  Tomorrow. The future they didn’t have.

  She caught at his hand as he moved to step away. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘You need clothes, dushka, and we need to get going. I’ve got guests, remember?’

  Maisy flushed. Not we’ve got guests, just him. His guests. And she was holding him up.

  ‘Maisy?’ He captured her face between his big hands. ‘This isn’t about you. It’s my problem. Okay?’

  ‘No, Alexei, it’s about us.’ She pulled away from him. ‘But I can say it till I’m blue in the face. You don’t want it to be us. You’re happier on your own. Go on, let me get dressed. We’ve got a long evening ahead and I’m not very happy with you right now.’

  Alexei had the grace to lower his head. He looked about wiped out, Maisy realised, but he was right. He was a big boy. She had wounds to lick. He could look after himself.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHILST Maisy dressed Alexei returned to the boardroom to make a call in privacy to Valery at the house. He hadn’t been in here since that dreary day when they had all gathered aboard Firebird to discuss Kostya. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Bursting into Lantern Square had changed his life irrevocably and there was no going back. He wouldn’t want to go b
ack. Maisy had changed everything.

  You’re my boyfriend. Those three words had summed up her simple, uncomplicated assessment of their relationship.

  And, God help him, he’d been behaving like a boyfriend from day one in that park in Ravello, when she had snapped and crackled at him and, like the sucker he had never been, he’d followed her—tame as an alley cat offered food and a lap for the first time.

  He’d convinced himself it would be casual sex to scratch the itch, but from the moment he’d seen her in his shirt, clear-eyed and standing up to him, casual had gone out of the window.

  She’d known. Instinctively she’d known he wasn’t the kind of man who would stick around. Every time they’d made love it had been behind her eyes. The question.

  And finally all of it had come home to roost—what he had taught her to believe with his string of well-publicised affairs and his defensive habits. He’d thought he was protecting her, but all he’d been doing was protecting himself.

  You don’t want it to be us.

  But, God help him, he did—and that was the black irony of it all. He wanted a lifetime with Maisy. He’d just been on his own so long he didn’t know how to go about it.

  It was good to take her dampened dress off, her flimsy sandals, and just lie in a tub of clear warm water, her hair loose and submerged, her eyes closed. Downstairs there were guests to entertain, but Ivanka had assured her they were family and she was to have her bath, not worry about anything, and come down when she was ready.

  Maria brought Kostya to her whilst she was dressing, and he helped her pick out a dress. She chose the cocktail dress she had brought from London.

  The dress fell to her ankles, but was so sheer that no matter how she stood or moved it clung to her figure like a second skin. She waited to feel selfconscious but the feeling didn’t come. Alexei had taught her the curvy body she had hidden under layers was sexy—no longer a source of unease but something to be celebrated.

  There was a knock on her door. ‘Come in.’ She had expected Maria, looking for Kostya, but it was Stefania. She had swept her shoulder-length blond hair up and was wearing a glamorous seventies-style caftan, dripping in gold jewellery. Maisy loved the way these Russian women went completely over the top. It must be liberating.

  ‘Wow, you are so not wearing that around my husband.’

  Maisy turned in surprise, but Stefania was laughing.

  ‘Oh, the baby!’ She’d spotted Kostya.

  Maisy introduced them, and Kostya allowed himself to be scooped up and admired.

  ‘He’s so beautiful, and you’re a natural, Maisy. I don’t know how I’m going to manage when I have one. I know everyone has a nanny, but I think Ivanka’s on the right track. She does it all herself.’

  ‘She’s crazy,’ said Maisy honestly. ‘Everyone needs help.’

  ‘But you brought up Kostya yourself. Alexei was just telling the boys you did it on your own for two years.’

  Alexei?

  Maisy was digesting this information when Stefania said critically, ‘You need something around your neck. Show me your bling and we’ll pick something out.’

  ‘I don’t have any bling,’ Maisy confessed, trying to keep her voice light.

  ‘You’re kidding me? Alexei hasn’t thrown open the gates of all the best jewellery stores? Maise, I’m gonna talk to that man.’

  ‘No!’ Maisy groaned. ‘Please, Stefania, I honestly don’t want jewellery.’

  Stefania looked at her as if she had said I don’t need to breathe air. ‘Okay,’ she said slowly, ‘but you have to wear something, Maisy. Let me lend you one of my strings. I promise nothing over the top—something simple, ladylike. You do ladylike. I can tell.’

  Within minutes Maisy was wearing a strand of pearls so pure they were iridescent. It would be hard to give them back.

  Stefania smiled like a cat that had the cream at their reflections—herself so fair and slender, Maisy voluptuous, her long red-gold hair caught up in a single clasp. ‘We look good. The guys will go off.’

  It was seven o’clock when they went down, and past Kostya’s bedtime, but Maisy knew instinctively part of the reason the Abramovs and Lievens were here was to see Leo’s little boy. Maisy led him into the drawing room by the hand. She had dressed him up in his best royal-blue pyjamas suit, and with his angelic blond curls he looked delicious.

  The glass of whisky in Alexei’s hand slid from his grasp. He just caught it in time as Maisy strolled into the room holding one of Kostya’s hands, Stefania the other. Maisy was elegance personified. She was wearing something white and it moved like water on her body, showcasing every curve. She’d pulled her titian hair up, which only made him want to take it down, and it drew attention to the delicate bone structure of her face. The artless, sunny girl he had first known might be lurking under the glamour of her evening dress, but it was a knowing woman whose eyes clashed with his across the room, then looked away to concentrate on his guests.

  Her movements were unhurried as she smiled at everyone, answered questions about Kostya’s development and hovered over him. Every shrug of her bare shoulders, every extension of a slender arm, turn of her head was seductive, drawing him across that room to the perimeter of where she held court, kneeling on the Aubusson rug, impossibly elegant even with a two-year-old squirming around her.

  Valery and Stiva were riveted—and it wasn’t to what Maisy was saying. When had she become this sophisticated woman? Had he not been paying attention? Or was it that it suited him to see her as sweet little Maisy, the girl he had collected from Lantern Square? Nothing ever stood still, and her words came back to smack him up the side of the head: To have come to where you are, when someone like me wouldn’t have had the resilience to even survive.

  Maisy underestimated herself. She had something he’d been lacking all his life: the courage to give of herself to others. He watched her—not only with Kostya, the child who wasn’t her own yet whom she had taken into her heart, but with his friends, cheerful and generous despite her appalling day.

  He’d been an absolute idiot.

  Maisy kept an eye on Alexei as the evening wore on, but she didn’t go out of her way to approach him. He needed to come to her, but as time wound away she was starting to feel as if that would never happen.

  It was a revelation seeing him with people he cared about. This was how he had been with her and Kostya in these last weeks—generous and warm and loving. He got Sasha and Nicky, Ivanka’s boys, set up with a games console in the entertainment room, and he scooped Kostya up to fly him through the air and fed him grapes, all the while carrying on a discussion with Valery about some American baseball team and a foolproof betting system.

  He had a whole life she was only getting a glimpse of.

  Well, he might not think she fitted into this life, but she had no intention of letting him go that easily.

  After dinner, Maisy excused herself as coffee was served and sought the seclusion of the terrace. She could only hope Alexei would have the sense to follow her out—although given his unpredictable behaviour over the past couple of days she couldn’t be sure.

  Leaning against the railing, she took in deep sustaining breaths, trying to concentrate on the enviable view of blue sea. Lap it up, Maisy, a little voice taunted. It’s not going to last. Your days are numbered.

  Not without a fight, she responded, fisting her hands on top of the stone.

  ‘Maisy.’ His deep voice washed over her and she almost slumped with relief. She shut her eyes, wanting the peace to last, wanting him to be part of that peace but knowing he couldn’t be.

  He was too scared to love her.

  ‘Go inside, Alexei. You’ve got guests.’

  ‘Why are you out here on your own?’

  ‘I just wanted some time out, okay?’ She opened her eyes and made herself look at him. He was at least a metre away, arms folded, typical I-am-an-island stance. It was the same stance he had taken so many weeks ago, on that strange night when
he had burst into her life. It was as if the past weeks had never happened. As if they had never even been lovers.

  ‘Fine.’ He didn’t shift.

  The cold sea wind had picked up and Maisy shivered. She could feel Alexei looking at her body, not very modestly wrapped in white silk and nothing else. She knew her nipples were prominent. She felt selfconscious about it now that his desire for her had so obviously cooled. Goose flesh had risen on her arms and she rubbed them.

  Alexei shrugged off his jacket with a single movement and drew it around her shoulders, but otherwise he didn’t touch her.

  Maisy released a shuddery sigh, wondering why his gesture should touch her so deeply.

  ‘You should be wearing more clothing,’ was all he said, his head bent, his eyes intent upon hers.

  Suddenly the wind was gone, the view blotted out. There was only Alexei, blocking out the world, and Maisy was thrown back to Lantern Square when she had stepped into his arms and he had picked her up and branded her. There was no other way to describe it, and she was still wearing that brand. She was his. From then on she’d always been his.

  ‘Please talk to me, Alexei.’

  ‘It’s not the time or place, Maisy.’

  Her temper snapped. ‘Too bad—because I’ve got a few things to say. First of all, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I’m stupid with it—because, honestly, any other woman would have seen the writing on the wall long before I did.’

  He was silent. Maisy almost swore.

  ‘You don’t have anything to say to me?’

  ‘This “stupid” love …’ his voice was low, almost fractured ‘ … did it make its appearance after Ivanka told you my sob story or before? Don’t tell me you fell for me when I burst into the kitchen at Lantern Square and terrified the life out of you?’

  How on earth had they arrived back at that? Maisy shook her head. It was either that or shake him.

  ‘Right now I have no idea why I love you,’ she slung at him heatedly. ‘Maybe it’s the multiple orgasms.’