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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 terrace 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.
