Born to be Bad (International Bad Boys Book 3) (6 page)

If she was ever going to face Roman again, then Milly knew, it was time to sit up and listen.

R
oman woke around
eleven to the sound of knocking on his door and a maid asking if he wanted to have his suite serviced.

“Later!” Roman called out and turned over and tried to get back to sleep, but he wasn’t lucky enough to a second time around.

He got out of bed and went to the fridge and drank a bottle of water in one gulp and then headed into the bathroom.

The mirror told the tale. His eyes were bloodshot, he needed a shower and shave or, no doubt when he went to talk sense into Isaak, his brother would point out the mess he was in.

Roman looked at the teeth marks and the bruise on his shoulder and then he headed back to the bedroom and rang down for a strong coffee before he faced the day. But as he put down the phone, his fingers moved to the bite on his shoulder and he started to remember last night.

Not that he had told Milly too much, Roman was already well aware of that.

Nor that he had got carried away and too close to another, he was already uncomfortable enough about that.

More he remembered now the sob as he had entered her and how he had calmed her and told her she would be okay. It had been more than a condom tearing, Roman was belatedly realizing.

He let out a long breath, not liking the view as he started to arrive back in the land of logic.

Roman pulled back the sheet on the bed and saw the evidence of a virgin coupling.

“
Chyort
!” Roman cussed and sat on the edge of the bed going over and over last night as best he could remember it and he understood now just what had happened this morning.

No, he hadn’t awoken from some nightmare about his father beating him, instead Milly had been about to slap him.

Deservedly so?

She had walked into his suite so willingly, Roman told himself.

But she left it angry and confused, came the rare sound of his conscience speaking.

Usually Roman felt little remorse the morning after the night before—he would be living in a state of perpetual guilt otherwise.

There was a reason though that he chose not to bed virgins. He knew his own powers of seduction, he knew that women had a tendency to get hung up him. By his own admission, he was so far from perfect, but he did not deliberately set out to hurt others.

He recalled her line about making the rent, his promise to be discreet. Surely, he had warned Milly adequately—he could remember telling her that he wanted straight sex.

Then Roman winced when he realised he’d used the term making love.

His phone rang and he saw that it was Isaak.

“Hey,” Roman answered.

“Before you start,” Isaak said, “you just have to trust that I’m doing the right thing with Kate and go along with it.”

“What on earth are you thinking? You’ve never even mentioned this Kate and now suddenly you are engaged to marry. Who is she?”

“She was working with Ivor,” Isaak said. “Did you notice the ring she was wearing?”

“Not really.” Roman shrugged because he never noticed such things, but then he leant back on the pillows and tried to deny to himself that he had noticed when Milly wore one.

“It was given to Ivor by our grandmother, along with other jewels and money.”

“How?” Roman frowned, it simply wasn’t possible. Danya Zaretsky, their grandmother, had led a hellish existence—their grandfather had regularly beaten her and both brothers knew he had spent time in gaol for attacking women—and they had been dirt poor.

“I don’t know,” Roman said. “That is what Ivor was trying to find out before he died. I’m going to look into it with Kate.”

“And you have to marry her to do that?”

“There’s more to it,” Isaak said, “but I’m not going into it now. Just keep Saturday free two weeks from now and show up for the wedding.”

“Do I have to get a present?” Roman asked. “It sounds like I should keep the receipt if I do.”

“Yes, you might as well keep the receipt,” Isaak said and Roman smiled, but not for long, as Isaak pushed on. “Hopefully this wedding will give you a break from the press.”

“Don’t marry her for my sake. Nothing is going to keep the press away. The coroner’s report gets released next week and they’re going to pounce when they find out that Ava wasn’t pregnant.”

“Just tell them that she lied to you.”

“I can’t do that to her,” Roman said.

“Why do you insist on defending Ava?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “She was my wife.”

“You only married her because she lied and said she was pregnant.”

“She was my wife,” Roman said again. “And Ava’s not here to defend herself. I don’t want her name being dragged through press and I don’t want her family to suffer further. Be careful when you put that ring on Kate’s finger, Isaak,” Roman warned. “You don’t always get to simply walk away.”

“I’m always careful.” Isaak said and Roman let out a sigh, he knew his older brother wouldn’t take his advice on this and for now Roman gave in, he actually wanted Isaak’s advice.

“Last night, I brought a woman back . . . ” Roman said.

“So, what’s new?”

Roman let out a breath and very loosely told Isaak what had happened and that he had inadvertently bedded a virgin and, to Roman’s annoyance, Isaak started to laugh.

“How pissed were you?” Isaak asked. “How could you not know till the morning . . . ”

“
Zatknis
!” Roman told him to shut up. “She works here, I don’t know if should say something . . . ”

“Then she’ll think you’re serious about her,” Isaak said. “Just leave it, she’ll get over it.”

Roman couldn’t leave it though.

He never said sorry to anyone, but the more he thought about last night, the more he knew he needed to apologise.

She was incredibly sweet, and really, Milly had always been so nice too him and he wanted to speak with her and to check that she was okay. Yes, he could wait and perhaps speak to her next time she worked, but that would make things impossible with prying eyes and there was also a need to make this right as quickly as he could.

If it was doable.

Roman quickly showered and dressed in black jeans and a gunmetal grey top.

He drank coffee as he did a quick check on the computer and found out where auditions were being held for the role of Desdemona.

It was a ten-minute walk from the hotel and they started in a couple of hours. Determined not to miss her, not sure when she’d arrive, Roman headed there and waited.

He actually didn’t recognise Milly as she walked towards him. She was dressed in footless black tights and instead of heels she wore black ballet pumps. She wore a long floaty top in willow green and her gorgeous hair was today worn down.

“Milly!”

He saw her startle as he called her name.

“Oh.” She went to brush past. “Hi, Roman.”

“I wanted to speak about last night.”

Milly knew then that this wasn’t some chance encounter near the hotel. She could not be more grateful to Simon for his long talk with her this morning where he had told her exactly how to handle this, to
act
tough and so she turned and faced him and met him with a slightly scornful gaze.

“I don’t often get requests for follow up conversations . . . ”

“Come on, Milly, you know we need to talk. We can do it tonight when you’re working, or I can take you for a drink now.”

“I’ve got an audition to get to.”

“Not ‘til two,” Roman said. “Do you really want to sit with the competition before a cattle call?”

He made a very good point. It had been a long time since Milly had been at an audition and in that time she had somewhat forgotten just how bitchy these things were. If she went in now the mind games would start—and she’d
overhear
how one had been told the audition was a mere formality because the part was already hers. Another might hint that she’d slept with the director and then she’d be told that they were looking for thin, for blonde, for someone who could stand on their head with an orange in their mouth and play the triangle with their knees.

Milly looked to Roman who for once looked just a touch awkward.

“One drink,” Milly said, just to show him he meant little.

Roman was surprised how readily she said yes. He had expected her to be blushing or angry, instead she walked alongside him with ease and when he held the door open to a very exclusive bar she stepped in with confidence.

“We’ll have a quiet table,” Roman delivered his instructions to the greeter and they were led to a booth near the back. Milly took her seat and Roman sat opposite and gave her a small smile.

“I’m not used to talking to you when you’re sitting.”

Milly didn’t return his smile, she was doing her best to get into her chosen role. “Do you prefer me standing, Roman. Do you want me to ask if they’ll give me a loan of one of their barmaid outfits . . . ”

“Milly,” Roman cleared his throat, this wasn’t going the way he had expected it to in the least. “I have been thinking about last night. I had an awful lot to drink yesterday, even by my standards, but it’s become clear to me that there was a miscommunication last night . . . ”

Milly blinked. She actually admired him for having the nerve to come and speak with her. Truth be known, she had left his suite assuming he would not give their tryst further thought.

Clearly, he had.

And, Milly knew, if she admitted to him he was right, that she had gone to his room, thinking of them as a couple, then he would know that he had broken her heart.

She simply wouldn’t give him that power.

“Miscommunication?” Milly frowned as she frantically tried to recall Simon’s words to her this morning. “You said you wanted vanilla. I delivered.”

“Milly . . . ”

“Frankly, I was rather expecting you to tie me up and give me a spanking. I’ve heard that you’re generally more into that.” She watched as he swallowed just a touch uncomfortably. “On your knees,
souka
,” Milly sweetly smiled. “I got off lightly!”

“Milly . . . ” Roman started, but he did not finish and she watched him shake his head.

He was honestly trying to clear it as the waiter came over.

“What do you want to drink?” Roman asked, expecting her to ask for water.

“Champagne,” Milly said, more than happy to drown her nerves with one glass.

Roman turned to the waiter. “Double shot espresso and a glass of champagne.”

“Your best champagne,” Milly corrected and gave Roman a smile.

“Of course.”

She confused him.

He thought of the bloodied sheets and hell, maybe she’d got her period or something, but no, she’d gone to slap his cheek.

“You
were
upset this morning,” Roman said.

Milly gave a tight shrug.

“You were.”

“You’re a billionaire, Roman,” Milly said.

“Now I know you’re lying,” Roman shot back. “I paid you very well and you know it.”

“Maybe, but I can still resent you in the morning.” Milly said. “Look Roman, you wanted to make love last night and so I let you think that we were . . . ”

“Are you saying that didn’t enjoy it?”

“Roman, I’m an actress . . . ”

“Fuck off . . . ” Roman said. “No way were you acting last night.”

“Oh sorry, do I still have to stroke your ego?” She blew him a kiss as their drinks were served. “
You
were amazing, Roman.”

“Hey.” He put up his hands. “I just came to apologise. I woke up this morning and I was worried that I’d led you on this night and that I had hurt your feelings . . . ”

“Well, you didn’t.” Milly took a grateful sip of her champagne.

“And you did enjoy it,” Roman said, surprised that it actually mattered.

“I am allowed to enjoy my work!”

It didn’t mollify him though, and Milly knew he didn’t fully believe her.

“I like sex.” Milly said. “Though I am a bit new to being paid for it. When mum went into a home, we had to use her house to fund it. I’m living in a crappy bedsit and I was moaning to Simon . . . ” Roman blinked, he was starting to believe her, Milly realised, and so she pushed on. “He scored some pilot last night, and I had the choice between Clifford or you . . . ”

“Milly,” Roman said, not fully convinced. “Some of the things I told you last night . . . ”

“Don’t worry.” She had never been more grateful to Simon for giving her that pep talk. “What’s said between the sheets stays between the sheets. I’d never work again otherwise.”

Roman couldn’t be sure if she was bluffing him—he believed in no-one, yet something told him Milly would not reveal any of what was said last night and it had nothing to do with client privileges.

His phone started to ring and he glanced at it.

“I have to take this call,” Roman said and Milly nodded.

He spoke in Russian and she watched as he scratched at his neck, clearly not comfortable with whatever was being discussed.

“That was my father’s nursing home,” Roman said. “He’s taken another turn for the worse.”

What would the old Milly have said? Milly thought, because if she was going to keep this game up, then she had to carry on with him as she had before.