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‘You get used to it apparently.’ Melanie shrugged, picking up her bag and dousing herself with Annie’s scent before dashing off to spend the rest of the night with George. ‘Why don’t you just wait a couple of weeks and get them waxed?’
Because she didn’thavea couple of weeks—at any time Iosef could appear.
And often did.
He kept the most peculiar hours, almost constantly on call, not just for work but with his father’s death approaching, his mother, Nina, was constantly ringing, questioning Ivan’s treatments, his medications, and Annie understood if sometimes it wasn’t till after midnight that he appeared or on occasion had to go soon after getting there.
Melanie was right, Annie thought darkly as her phone bleeped loudly in her bag. When Iosef was coming round she would dash to the bathroom to brush her teeth then back to the bedroom to squirt on perfume. As much as she was loath to admit it—never, not once, had he made a negative comment on her appearance—the pressurewason. Over and over he told her she looked fantastic, felt fantastic, smelt fantastic, tasted fantastic—but Annie was findingthata pressure in itself!
What happened if he called round and she wasn’t looking, feeling, smelling and tasting fantastic? Her pink, flannelette, cheeky-monkey pajamas had been dumped in favor of a flimsy sarong, every pair of granny knickers she owned had been replaced by an overdraft-funded selection of lacy bras and panties, her skin was permanently defuzzed and moisturized, and that was before she squeezed in nails, hair and, oh, yes, thanks to some freaky, obsessive compulsive perfect housewife show she’d watched, her bed was now decked out in starched white linen, which meant constant trips to the laundry.
‘Hey!’ He gave a tired smile as he stood in her doorway. ‘Sorry it’s so late. I got caught up.’
‘No problem. Melanie was just here.’ She moved to let him in. ‘How’s your dad?’
‘Don’t ask!’ He didn’t say it nastily, more wearily, sitting on the sofa and running a tired hand over his face. ‘I’ve had one of those nights—you know...’
Only she didn’t know because he didn’t tell her, and she didn’t push because he looked awful—beautiful, but awful all at the same time. His exquisite features, more chiseled somehow, dark smudges under his eyes, as if he’d suddenly lost weight or just got over flu or something. Annie could actuallyfeelthe great weariness that emanated from him. He gave a tight smile as his phone started trilling and with a small eye roll he answered it.
‘Hi, Levander.’ That was the one in England, Annie registered, which meant he wouldn’t be talking long. But clearly a little thing like the cost of an international call to a mobile phone didn’t matter a hoot to the Kolovskys. Clearly, because forty minutes later, having left Iosef to it long ago, she was lying on top of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening without a clue as to what was being said as he spoke to his brother in Russian from the lounge.
Just what had he come here for? He didn’t want to talk to her. She wasn’t allowed to ask what was going on. Was it really just sex that he wanted from her?
‘Sorry I took so long... ’ He sat on the edge of the bed and took her reluctant hand, playing with her fingers as she still stared at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know whether to tell him to come now for my father, or if it’s too soon... ’
‘Does it matter?’ Finally she looked at him. ‘If he comes now, maybe he can have a bit of quality time with your dad before... ’ She gave a tiny little swallow, forced herself to go on and willed him not to push her out. ‘I mean, your dad can meet his grandson and get to hold him.’ She might just as well have been speaking in Urdu or Japanese because he closed his eyes at her efforts, making it very clear that either she didn’t get it, or he simply didn’t understand, and as he lay on the bed beside her, buried his head in her neck, for the first time she wanted to reject him—didn’t want to sleep with someone who on every other level was pulling away from her.
But again she’d misread him.
‘I wish this was over...’ He groaned out the words, pulled her in tightly as he gave her a shocking glimpse of what was going on in his head. ‘Don’t give up on me yet, Annie.’
He was asleep before he’d even finished talking, a deep sleep where he held her fiercely all night, an exhausted sleep where there was no energy to even undress, and if it was the least sexual they’d ever been, somehow it was the most intimate.
But that was scary for Annie, too.
Scary, because she didn’t want to give up on them either, didn’t want to ask the questions that would inevitably end it, didn’t want to face the truth.
But on a deeper level she knew she had to.
* * *
‘What areyou going to do with your day off?’
His body, naked now, was pressed behind her, warm hands holding her, sleepy voices enjoying that delicious timeafterthe alarm clock had gone off.
‘I’ll think of something.’ Annie yawned, hoping she sounded mysterious, choosingnotto tell him that she was getting yet another spray tan, a pedicure and her hair blow-dried straight again—because if the tan faded, then so too might they.
She knew it was shallow—loathed the effort she put in to keep him—but the first night they’d made love she’d been as groomed as she’d ever been. Rolling over, she stared at him, didn’t say a word, just stared at the most beautiful man who had just made spectacular, lazy morning love to her, and told herself it was worth it.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘That you’re beautiful...’ It was the most honest she’d ever been with him.
‘Same.’
As he climbed out of bed she already missed him. That hint of an accent, the sheer joy of being with him just spun her out. Lying in his arms, she felt she belonged, but the second he left she knew she didn’t. He was so much more than some diamond in the rough she’d discovered—it was like finding a Faberge egg in the cupboard under the sink, each stroke of her finger revealing something too precious to keep—something that she knew didn’t really belong to her. Devotion was dangerous, blurred the rules and botched all boundaries...
Made excuses when there should be none.
