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‘Oh, my!’
She had a business plan.
A real one.
It went into demographics of the area, mean ages, average incomes and things she’d never have thought of. He’d even put things like expected revenue from the vending machine that it looked as if she’d be getting and the cost of hiring mirrors.
Everything had been taken into account.
‘I’m not asking for this much!’ Libby yelped when she saw the figure he had suggested the bank give her for a loan.
‘You don’t have to spend it, but it is something to factor in if you get sick or you get so busy that you have to hire another teacher.’
There were pages and pages of it.
All the little throwaway stuff she’d told him, about her career, her study, was all neatly referenced and then he’d added that in his opinion the proposed business model was an extremely viable one and it was signed with his lovely expensive signature.
And that if they required more information, they could contact him.
Oh, my!
This would have cost her thousands to have done privately. In fact, it wouldn’t have happened, because there was no way Daniil Zverev would have done this for her if she’d stepped in from the street.
Which she had.
Sort of.
‘You’ll get the loan.’
He sounded so sure that Libby was starting to believe that she would. That he had spent the morning doing this for her almost blew her away, but instead she put her arms around his neck and held on tight to the lovely anchor of him.
‘I have to kiss you!’
He lifted her up so she could do so. He was just so big and strong and sexy as hell and his jaw less rigid than this morning as she ran her lips over it. His mouth was receptive, taking her kiss, returning it fiercely, but only for a moment because, though holding her, he peeled his face back from her liberal display of affection.
‘Thank you,’ Libby said.
‘You’re welcome.’
She didn’t want to come back to planet earth but he placed her back on it.
‘I have to go now.’
And just like that he did, leaving her standing there, reeling.
Excited, elated and back to the agony of his leaving, which was worse the second time around.
He’d broken their unspoken rule.
Libby had been set to get on with her life, to determinedly not contact him and to expect nothing more from their one night.
He’d given her more than a business plan, Libby thought.
Daniil Zverev had given her hope for them—that she might see him again, that last night had meant more to him, too.
And that was scary.
CHAPTER FIVE
DANIIL STARED AT the phone.
His mind was finally made up.
Almost.
He was leaning towards going to his parents’ anniversary party, which was being held next weekend.
The ongoing pressure from Lindsey Tennent had had nothing to do with his change of heart. Lindsey had today called Reception twice, using different names, in an effort to be put through to him. One call had made it as far as Cindy but she had quickly seen through him.
Daniil re-read the invitation: To Daniel Thomas.
Reverting to his own name had been the final straw that had caused his parents to disown him. They had taken it as a personal affront and had said that, in doing so, he not only shamed them but it was a smack in the face for all they had done for him. They had refused to listen to his reasoning and, for Daniil, it had actually come as a relief when they had said that they wanted nothing more to do with him.
It had suited him, in fact.
The occasional visits he used to make at Christmas and for birthdays were excruciating at best, for all concerned. He could feel the strain from the moment he walked in and there was a sigh of relief that had reverberated from everyone when the duty visit was over and done, till the next time.
No, it wasn’t a moral debt or his conscience that had Daniil changing his mind. He had a question for his parents and he wanted an honest answer. He might not get one, but he would be able to know if they were lying if the question was asked face to face.
Did you mail the letters I wrote to Roman?
He was sure that they hadn’t, but that realisation had come a long time after the letters had been penned. At first Daniil had believed his parents when they had said that the post was very slow. They had also suggested, when still no letter had come, that maybe his brother was still angry at him and they would point to Daniil’s cheek. That had made no sense because Daniil was quite sure now that the fight had been Roman’s attempt to force him to leave the orphanage.
