AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I only wished I knew how Viktor was going to take it. But as I drove back to our cozy little apartment, to evening chores, and dinner, I prayed he would care enough to help us instead of bringing problems into our lives. For Michael’s sake, if not for my own.
***
I made it to the hunting lodge ten minutes early, after sweating out another drive on that long, curvy stretch of highway. It wasn’t storming today, just windy as heck. My Prius was great on gas mileage and rode low enough that it was one of the easier cars I’d driven in high winds, but that didn’t help my nerves. I was going to carry that stormy evening with me for a while, especially that five-minute slow drive through what had felt like a hurricane.
The hunting lodge was huge, one of those giant old Victorians you saw dotting mountains and filling small foothill villages from here down to Delaware. It was painted white, like most of them, with a green trim and roof, and huge stained-glass windows set into its north-facing wall and entryway. I stared at the windows, which featured Art Deco sylphs in trailing gowns, their hair flowing in an unseen wind. I parked in the driveway and just stared up at them for a bit, wondering how much money they had taken to install, the detail was amazing, right down to their faceted glass jewelry.
I got out and had to hang onto my briefcase as a gust of wind tried to yank it out of my hand. Was the weather up here always this crazy? Maybe this was just a thing around this stretch of coastline. A price to pay for the awesome views.
I turned back to the house, squared my shoulders, and headed for it, my black patent leather pumps clicking on the cobbled drive. I had spent an extra half hour today deciding on an outfit, wanting something that was feminine and businesslike but didn’t look too sexy. The problem was, with my curves, that was difficult.
I had finally settled on a charcoal suit and crisp white blouse. I had tried for subtle makeup, but it hadn’t looked right, so I had gone for crimson lips and slightly smudgy eyes. I could wear chunky gold jewelry again now that Michael was older, so I went for it. Just the lightest spritz of Santal Blush to go with, florals mixed with dark suits didn’t make sense to me.
Now my doubts about the ensemble, about the chignon I had put my hair up in, about the perfume, all came back to haunt me as I walked up the stairs to the expansive front porch. Not to mention my doubts about being here at all. I tried not to fidget as I pushed the intercom button next to the big, elaborately carved front door.
There was a click, and a deep, unfamiliar voice said, “Yes?”
“I’m Olivia, I’m Viktor Ivanov’s two o’clock,” I said, putting on my charming businesswoman voice.
There was a buzz and a heavy clunk, and I tried the door to find it suddenly unlocked. Remote system. Nice, but a little scary. I didn’t like the idea of him being able to lock that door with the touch of a button. It would get in the way if I had to get out quickly.
I stepped inside to take in an airy flagstone entryway, two stories tall and covered in splashes of colored light from the stained-glass windows. It was so beautiful that I didn’t realize for a moment that footsteps were clicking down the hall toward me.
“You look even lovelier than I remembered.”
Chapter 8
Olivia
Ilooked up, startled, just as Viktor walked into view wearing that faint, mild-eyed smile that I remembered. His real smile, from what I could tell.
He looked better than I remembered as well, though I didn’t want to admit it. His hair was a little longer, his skin a touch less pale, and his eyes just a bit less hard and exotic looking than I remembered—maybe from gazing into Michael’s soft ones for so long. He was still as handsome, still wore a suit better than any other man I’d met, and still wore very little in the way of jewelry or adornments. He wore a tie tack with an eight-pointed star on it, and I saw the same motif on his cufflinks.
He didn’t look like someone who had probably killed at least a few people in his lifetime, if not dozens. He looked like someone who had built a real estate empire, or maybe conducted a famous symphony. Rich, hot, cultured…those thoughts were dangerous by themselves.
“Thank you,” I managed after a few moments of taking him in. “I honestly never thought we’d meet again.” Should I apologize now? Should I at least shoo that elephant out of the room so we can breathe a little before continuing?
But I couldn’t bring myself to. I only smiled and gripped my briefcase tightly.
“Please, follow me,” he said, gesturing gracefully down the hall. “We will handle this in my office.”
I followed him down the hall, admiring all the carved and polished wood, the dark, patterned wallpaper, the refurbished timber floors and shaped plaster ceilings. “The remodel looks fantastic,” I commented.
“Ah, you remember. Yes, it took the better part of the intervening years to complete everything. My uncle insisted on as much authenticity as possible, without sacrificing modern conveniences. Striking that balance was a bit of a challenge, especially with a lack of local contractors with such antiquated skills.”
“I can imagine.” I longed to live in a house like this one someday, once I had made some more big commissions and Michael was old enough. Everything I had that didn’t pay for necessities was going toward three funds—an emergency fund, one for Michael’s future schooling, hopefully including being able to fully pay off his college, and one for a down payment on a house. The market was insane right now, but I hoped it wouldn’t stay that way forever, and I believed in moderate, dept-free living now so that I could finally,finallyfeel like I could breathe one day and not have the constant fear of finances living in the back of my brain in the future.
“Well, it certainly looks like it was worth all that time and effort,” I said as we walked through his halls. “Who was your stained-glass artist?”
“I had to import him. A Frenchman, barely spoke English, but absolutely brilliant. He’s responsible for some of the post-fire restorations on Notre Dame.”
“Wow. That’s one hell of a thing to have on your resume.” I followed him into his office, which was expansive, bookshelf-lined, with a huge mahogany desk and massive chairs and benches to match, all seats upholstered in royal blue velvet. He settled behind his desk, and I sat in a chair across from him, setting my briefcase on the desktop and opening it.
“I did a little background research to prepare. Summer is the middle of prime time for classic book sellers around here, so we’re good, and I may already have some interest.” I felt a pleasant little jolt whenever I looked him in the eyes, which somehow looked greener when surrounded by all the plush blue velvet. I tried to ignore it, but the tingling between my thighs was growing stronger, and he wasn’t even doing anything, other than existing.
Did he really have such a strong, animal magnetism? Or was the memory of our night together triggering some kind of a Pavlovian response in me? Probably both, if I was honest with myself.
Viktor was the only man in my life who had gotten me into bed without there being a developed relationship between us, and being in his presence now was reminding me exactly why.
