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I take my phone out and text my mom.
Arrived in London.
In the hotel now.
It’s fantastic, mom. Just fantastic.
I know u are at work now.
Skype me when you get home?
I love, love, love you. xxxx
Raine
I hear a sound behind me and turn slightly. Konstantin is walking towards me. In his hands he carries two champagne filled flutes. He holds a glass out to me. This truly is the champagne lifestyle.
“May your trip to London be memorable.”
“It already is,” I murmur. “To be honest, it is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me.”
He frowns. “Really?”
I nod and take a sip.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
His eyes never leave mine. “You never found anyone to lose your virginity to?”
I’m not about to tell him, I’ve never had the time. Ever since I was fifteen Madison has been in and out of hospital and Mom and me have been working all the hours God sends to pay her medical bills. I even left school early to bring in more money into the household.
“Nope,” I say with a grin that I hope will put matters to a rest.
“Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully. “We should get ready for dinner. Our table is booked for eight thirty.”
“Where are we going? What should I wear?”
“It’s just a private club around the corner from here. So nothing too fancy.”
My eyebrows rise. “Just a private club for billionaires?”
To my surprise a slight tinge of color touches his cheekbones. I have embarrassed him.
“Something like that,” he mutters, and quickly changes the subject. “There are two bathrooms. You can get ready in one and I’ll use the other.” Then he moves away.
I turn back to the magnificent view of London and take another sip of champagne. Sounds of people from the street below filter up. As the bubbles burst on my tongue I try to memorize the moment in my head. For the rest of my life I will remember this amazing moment when I stood on the rooftop terrace of the world famous Claridges hotel and drank champagne on my own.
Ten minutes later, I’ve showered in the fabulously luxurious marble bathroom, and smelling of the mango and passion fruit shower gel, I slip into my black dress. It is a second hand buy, but it is of good quality with a classy slim silhouette. I zip up, brush my hair, and put on my make-up. Mascara, red lipstick, and the look is complete. Stepping into thin gold sandals, I go to the living room.
Konstantin is standing on the terrace balcony looking out over the city. He is dressed in a charcoal suit.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He turns. For an instant I see a flash of something in his eyes, then the look is gone, replaced by the cool, distant expression he usually sports.
“You look beautiful,” he compliments, his voice smooth, deep, powerfully masculine. No wonder all those women go crazy for him.
“I hate it when you steal all my lines,” I whisper.
He walks up to me. “Think I’m beautiful, huh?”
“Yeah.” I reach out and palm his crotch. He is as hard as a rock. “Wow! You’re happy to see me.”
His nostrils flare. “All the time. All the fucking time.”
“Do you want to miss dinner and let me take care of this little problem?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry, it’ll keep until after dinner. I’ve got a long night of fucking planned for you, little Raine. You’ll need to be fed and full of energy for it.”
“Mmm… I can hardly wait.”
The club is so close by we walk to it. It has no bouncers standing outside it, or velvet ropes. It is a discreet door, which opens as if by magic as soon as we approach it. Inside a man greets Konstantin by name and takes us deeper into the interior. The sultry eggplant and red cocktail bar he seats us in has a cozy, intimate allure. There are candles in red glass jars on the tables. Some exotic music, perhaps Japanese or Oriental, is playing softly in the background.
A waiter brings a silver dish with a butternut squash on it. Tucked into the hollow of the cooked squash, he tells us, is imperial Oscietra caviar. However, the squash is not just for ornamental purposes. There are little spoons with which we are supposed to peel the sweet buttery flesh of the squash and eat with the glossy black pearls.
A bottle of champagne is opened and our glasses filled with the straw liquid. I am struck by the waste. We drank one glass from a whole bottle on the plane, one glass each from the bottle in the room, and now another bottle has been opened. We are given menus to study. A quick glance tells me that the food here is going to be nothing like anything I am used to.
Game terrine with crab apple jelly, Cornish crab salad with rock samphire, Venison Wellington.
