Secrets After Dark (13 page)

‘Nothing,’ I say quickly. ‘Nothing at all.’ There’s a small pause and then I say as naturally as possible, ‘That was Dominic Stone? The man I met at the monastery?’

Andrei nods. ‘Ringing with some excellent news about an iron ore mine I own in Siberia. The Chinese have bought all the ore we can produce for the next two years. I’m very pleased. Dominic has been freezing his arse off there in the middle of nowhere.’ He laughs again. ‘But he’ll be well rewarded. So. Are you coming to this party?’

The idea that Dominic will be there fills me with excitement, but I try to look nonchalant. ‘You know, Andrei, you’re right, it sounds like it might be fun. I’d like to come.’

He gives another of those inscrutable looks. ‘Good. We’ll need something for you to wear. Call Harrods and ask them to send a selection of evening dresses in your size. Ask for black, I think that will suit you best. Nothing too huge, it’s not a ball. But sophisticated.’

With that, he gets up from the table and strides out of the room, leaving me staring after him. Life around Andrei Dubrovski is certainly unpredictable. But it is also exciting, and tonight is the first possible chance I’ve had to see Dominic again since Croatia.

I can’t turn that down. I have to go.

Chapter Nine

Four hours later, to my astonishment, I am sitting beside Andrei in a beautiful grey Bentley convertible, admiring its polished wood dashboard and feeling the great engine purr beneath me. I’m wearing a stunning evening gown, one of many sent in tissue-lined boxes in a green Harrods van, along with shoes and bags. I spent a happy hour in the guest bedroom, unpacking the treasures within and trying them on: gorgeous creations in silk, tulle, organza, satin and any manner of luxurious fabrics, some sparkling with glitter, sequins and jewels, others adorned with frills or ruffles, some kept elegantly plain. I’ve never seen designer dresses up close and they are amazing. They look gossamer light but within they are carefully constructed to shape and flatter the body; the materials are sumptuous, the embroidery exquisite, and the workmanship magnificent. No wonder they cost thousands, with their hand-sewn embellishments and attention to every tiny detail. I love them all, even if I feel that some of them, with huge sweeping skirts or great frills at the shoulder, are a little much for me to carry off.

As soon as I put this one on, though, I fell in love with it. It’s black silk, as decreed by Andrei, and deliciously proper and yet sexy at the same time, with a very tight, short inner shell and a gauzy overdress that floats over my arms and around my thighs. It came with a pair of dangerously high black silk heels that perfectly complemented its quality of subtle seduction. Surrounded by stiff satins with netting, boned bodices and sequins, I stood gazing at my reflection and knew that this was the one.

Now, as we glide through the London streets listening to Rachmaninov, heading out west, rich red rubies are glinting at my ears.

This is exactly what he wanted,
I think to myself, glancing over at Andrei.
Did he plan this from the very start?
I had the illusion of choice – choice about accepting the earrings and whether or not to come tonight – but perhaps he knew what my decision would be. He looks incredible in black dinner suit, a silk bow-tie at his neck, controlling the car with practised ease. But then, I remind myself, all men look good in a well-cut formal suit and if they happen to have a powerful frame and a magnetic charisma, they’ll look even better.

Once we are out of the London traffic and on the motorway, Andrei puts his foot down and soon we’re flying past all other cars. Around us, night is falling, velvety and dark blue, and a golden autumn moon is rising.

If only this were Dominic, it would be incredibly romantic.
But I remember with a delicious shiver of anticipation that he might be at this party – and that’s why I’m here after all.

Andrei says nothing until, after about an hour of fast but incredibly smooth travel, we turn off the motorway and a few minutes later pull to a halt in front of a beautiful old Cotswold stone mansion, glowing golden in floodlights.

‘Is this where the party is?’ I ask.

‘No,’ he says abruptly, turning off the car and getting out. ‘This is where we dine.’

He comes round to my side of the Bentley, opens the door and helps me out. When I’m standing on the gravel, he tucks my arm under his, tosses the keys to a waiting valet, and we walk inside.

It is evidently a very expensive restaurant and we’re shown to a table set with crisp linen and gleaming silverware. Andrei orders for us without my even seeing a menu, and a few minutes later I’m sipping at a glass of cold Pouilly-Fumé, facing him across the table and wondering exactly how I ended up here.

‘I want to tell you something,’ Andrei says, leaning towards me. His eyes are intense and serious. ‘You look beautiful tonight.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, feeling a little awkward. I realise that I’m not sure what the terms of this dinner are. I haven’t been asked on a date, and if I had, I would have most certainly said no. And yet, we look for all the world like a romantic couple celebrating some intimate anniversary or embarking on a love affair.
But he’s just being polite, isn’t he?

‘You looked beautiful that night at Mark’s house, too.’ He takes a sip of wine while he seems to be remembering. ‘I liked that red dress particularly. But then... you look beautiful when you’re sitting on the floor of my study, lost in my pictures, frowning in that funny way you have, running your fingers through your hair when you’re especially thoughtful. I like looking at you then, when you don’t know I’m watching you.’ He leans closer to me. ‘But you’ve never looked as ravishing as that morning at the monastery, when you almost vibrated with life and sensuality. That’s when I knew I wanted to get to know you, much, much better.’

I’m staring at him, in a kind of vortex of horror mixed with something painfully like pleasure.
I’m beautiful? He thinks I’m beautiful?
But then:
Oh no, he wants something from me. He wants... oh God, what have I got myself into? I’m sitting here, in the dress he paid for, with jewels he gave me... like some kind of courtesan! Of course it looks like I’m prepared to think about him in that way. Oh shit – how am I going to get out of this?

I try to stay calm and keep my nerve.
So I’m going to have to do battle with a Russian tough guy. He doesn’t scare me. Much.

‘Andrei,’ I say firmly, ‘I’m very flattered that you think I’m beautiful, but you know our relationship is strictly professional. Besides, you have a girlfriend or a... a friend, and I have a boyfriend.’

He raises his eyebrows, that piercing gaze appearing almost to read my mind. ‘A boyfriend? I don’t believe you.’

‘It’s true.’

‘What’s his name?’

I pause and falter, realising I can’t give Dominic’s name but not having another ready at hand. ‘He’s... er... he’s called... John.’

‘Ha!’ The laugh comes out like a shout. ‘You’re lying, it’s obvious. You don’t have a boyfriend. Besides, what does that matter? I don’t see why two people who are attracted to one another shouldn’t act on their impulses. You are not married, neither am I.’

‘But,’ I say, sounding a little prim, ‘I’m not attracted to you.’

A grin, mischievous and boyish, spreads across his face, and he leans in towards me almost conspiratorially. ‘Oh, yes you are. You might not think so – but you are. And believe me...’ his eyes lock on mine and his voice drops to a whisper ‘...when we do make love together, it will be explosive.’

My mouth has gone dry and I feel slightly dizzy. That picture of Andrei naked flashes back into my mind, but now the woman on the bed, throwing back her head ecstatically, rubies glinting in her ears, is me. Horrified, I dismiss it instantly and recover myself. ‘I’m sorry, Andrei, but that’s not going to happen. If you don’t accept that, then I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay here or come to this party with you. Those are my terms.’

‘You like your terms, don’t you? Your contracts and letters of agreement, everything set out just so. You are trying to control me, build little walls to keep me contained. I warn you, it won’t work. No one can do that.’ He laughs again as he picks up a piece of bread from the basket on the table and rips it up. ‘What will you do, Beth? Walk back up the motorway? In those shoes? It’s quite a long way back to London.’

‘I could call a taxi. Or...’ I look about. I noticed a reception area when we came in. ‘I’ll stay here. Isn’t this a hotel as well?’

‘Well observed. Yes, a very good hotel.’ He seems to relent. ‘Well, if you honestly don’t want to come to the party with me, I will put you up here and go alone. I can get a room for myself for later and drive you home in the morning.’

I’m flummoxed. I don’t know what to say. I do want to go to the party, in order to see Dominic, but I can’t tell him that so after a moment, I say, ‘I... I’ll come if you accept that nothing will happen between us.’

His lips twitch again, as if he’s secretly amused. ‘All right. I accept it. Nothing will happen between us. Not at the party. Perhaps not even tonight. But it will one day. Not just because I want it, but because you do too.’

‘I don’t think so, Mr Dubrovski,’ I say in my most spirited voice. ‘I’m afraid you’ll be waiting for that day a very long time.’

He looks pained as he says, ‘Andrei, please. Let’s not go backwards. We’re friends after all, aren’t we?’

Before I can answer, the waiter arrives with our starters and the moment passes.

Against all my expectations, I enjoy the dinner very much. Andrei’s charm, which turns out to be considerable when he chooses to use it, soon makes me forget the awkward start, but even with our friendly conversation, mostly about art, the memory of the compliment he paid me lingers in my mind. I remind myself that he doesn’t interest me in the slightest.

‘Aren’t we going to be late for the party?’ I ask, as I notice that it’s after eleven o’clock and we are still finishing our coffee.

‘No, no. It will just be beginning,’ Andrei says. Nonetheless, he calls for the bill and while he’s settling it up, I go to the ladies’ room. I freshen up and take a few moments to examine my reflection. I’m looking my best tonight, my blue eyes are sparkling with the effect of a wonderful meal and a few glasses of wine, and the dress is even more gorgeous than I remembered. The beautiful shoes lengthen my legs and make me look taller and more willowy than I am in real life. My fair hair falls around my shoulders and my cheeks are pink with anticipation. ‘Not long,’ I whisper to myself, ‘and I’ll be with Dominic again.’

I go back to join Andrei who is waiting in the lobby. A few minutes later we’re on our way again, this time driving into the blackness of the countryside. Andrei seems to know exactly where we are going and I relax into the leather seats, enraptured by the dark shadowy hedges flying past outside the window.

It seems like no time at all when the car pulls to a halt again. This time we’re in absolute blackness in what looks like a forest, the car headlights illuminating only trees and dense undergrowth.

‘This is where the party is?’ I say, peering into the darkness outside. I’m suddenly on edge. There’s no obvious party at all. What if he’s brought me here for some terrible reason, out in the middle of nowhere, where we’re completely alone? No one knows where I am, I realise, with a chill.

Andrei leans across me, almost making me gasp, and opens the glove compartment. He pulls out two masks, one plain black to cover half the face from the forehead to just above the mouth, and the other embellished with sequins and airy black feathers, designed to obscure the eyes and cover the cheeks, the feathers providing a further veil to the features. He hands the feathery one to me. ‘Put this on. I will wear the other one.’

‘Why do we have to wear this?’

‘It is a masked party, of course. Very glamorous.’

At least there’s definitely a party. Though God alone knows where it is.
I take the delicate confection and pull it on over my face.

‘Very good,’ Andrei says softly, and puts on his own mask. Instantly he becomes almost entirely anonymous. It’s only the bright blue of his eyes against the velvety blackness and his jutting lower lip below the mask that distinguishes him. ‘Come on,’ he says, and his voice sounds harsher than ever. ‘Let’s go.’

He comes again to help me out of the car and we stand together for a moment in the light from the car’s interior, gazing at one another, suddenly strangers with the masks over our faces. Then he slams the car door shut and we’re sunk in darkness. Just as I’m wondering how we will find our way to this mysterious party, a light comes on. Andrei is using a torch to illuminate our way. I need his arm now as I negotiate the shadowy path in my heels, utterly unaware of the way. We seem to be walking on stones or gravel and I guess that we’re crossing a car park or a driveway. Within a short time, though, I see a golden light and we are clearly going towards it. It soon resolves into a doorway, but beyond there doesn’t appear to be a house or building, just a glowing passageway disappearing into nowhere.

We reach the doorway where masked attendants are waiting outside to guide us in. They murmur something to Andrei and his reply is evidently satisfactory, as we’re led into the passageway with low ceilings and walls that appeared to be carved from rock.

‘Where are we?’ I say, peering ahead as we keep moving. The ground is definitely sloping downwards. We’re descending.