The Lion in Russia (9 page)

“Hmmm, I thought you said a man your age
wouldn’t be up to two shows in one night,” she whispered against
his lips.

“I guess I’ve got some really strong
motivation,” he said wrapping his arms around her to pull her
closer.

“You won’t hear me complaining.”

“I promise this time will be sweeter,” he
said turning to lay her down on the rumpled white bed.

And it was.

***

Vries rolled over and began crawling out of
bed. Leo grabbed her leg.

“Where are you going, Vrieshka?” he said in
his sleep roughened voice. Vries wanted to cover her ears from its
allure. She really did have work to do today, she also had to touch
base with Deringer. Despite her diligence, she’d seen no evidence
of any danger. That made her nervous. Either Lelia was totally
wrong or the Russians had gotten better at covering their tracks.
Lelia was never wrong.

“To get away from you. If you do that to me
again I’ll die.”

“But I told you I wanted to spend the next
two weeks with you. What did you think I had in mind?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Leo, we’ve
been in bed for nearly twenty four hours. I don’t know about you,
but I have to eat, not to mention I have an assignment today,” she
said.

“An assignment?”

“Yes, it’s just a small show. Nothing
crucial, but I did promise to do it.” She rolled her eyes as he
gave her a petulant look. “You have got to be kidding me. Please
tell me you’re not pouting.”

“No, I’m not. What if I come along?”

“It’s for a children’s charity. I’m sure your
deep pockets will be more than welcome. In fact, I’d hazard a guess
they’d rather see you than me.”

***

Vries leaned back in her chair as the makeup
artist put the finishing touches on her face. Leo sat in a metal
folding chair next to her, texting and sending emails. Apparently
his being on vacation didn’t keep the needs of his business at bay.
She looked up as the makeup artist sighed again and gave her a look
that somehow combined aggravation and disgust. Vries’s
face-cracking yawn had smeared the meticulously applied lipstick.
Vries smiled apologetically, exhausted though she was, the last
twenty-four hours were more than worth it. She glanced over at Leo
and met his gaze. His slow smile let her know he was thinking the
same thing she was; how soon could they get back into bed? Not soon
enough for her, and apparently not for him either. The makeup
artist hissed at her and Vries turned to face her again.

“Sorry Sharla.”

“Too many late nights?” Sharla said with a
disapproving frown. She was one of Vries’s favorite makeup artists.
She always requested Sharla whenever she could, frequently joking
that if the other woman was a foot taller she’d put all of them out
of work. Sharla’s petite frame and rich golden brown skin were
perfectly set off by her designer jeans and vintage bright pink
Chanel jacket. Her makeup, of course, was flawless.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Just be careful. That’s absolute hell on
your skin,” Sharla said.

“Don’t I know it,” Vries said. “You know I
get regular facials.”

“At my sister’s spa, and I’m sure she tells
you all the treatments in the world can’t make up for too much
partying,” Sharla said.

“For God’s sake Shar, you know I haven’t
partied in forever.”

“Then why are you half asleep in my chair...”
her words trailed off as Vries’s gaze slid over to Leo for just a
second, but it was long enough for the other woman to catch on.
“Oh, well, that’s great for your skin. Carry on.”

“Thanks for your permission, Mommy,” Vries
said, rolling her eyes.

The woman worked industriously for several
long moments, then suddenly stopped to stare off at a point over
Vries head. Vries noticed the other woman’s frown and turned to
look as well. Damn, she should’ve known. Cesaré. She watched as the
other model crossed the room, her sleek frame and signature walk
drew all eyes to her, while the hush that had fallen over the room
turned into an insistent buzz. People looked from Vries to Cesaré
and back again with avid anticipation.

Sharla sighed. “I had no idea Antoine had
asked her to work this show. He’s supposed to be your friend.”

“Why wouldn’t he? She’s still a hot
property,” Vries said with a shrug. She was well-practiced at this
point in maintaining a calm demeanor, even though her stomach
churned a bit at the sight of the other woman. There had never been
a public confrontation, and generally they ignored one another, but
working the same show was always uncomfortable. There were times
when she suspected the other model had sabotaged her, and though
she was ashamed to admit it, she’d definitely gotten her own digs
in as well.

“Yeah, but you guys have beef...” the makeup
artist began, her eyes wide as she blotted Vries’s nose.

Vries raised both hands toward her hair to
pull it in frustration before she remembered the hairdresser had
just spent an hour fluffing her do. “I don’t know why people keep
saying that. Cesaré and I have never had beef. Everyone wanted us
to have beef and when we were young and stupid we played into it a
little bit, but not all that much.”

“What’s going on? Why is everyone looking
over here?” Leo asked. Vries glanced his way, surprised he’d even
noticed.

“Cesaré is here,” Vries said. “Everyone’s
anticipating a cat fight.”

“Well there is bad blood between you. I
wonder why they invited you both. I need to have a word with
Antoine,” he said with a heavy frown as he rose to his feet.

“Oh for the love of God, you do not need to
speak to Antoine,” Vries said, her mind boggling as she imagined
the slight Frenchman’s reaction to a confrontation with the giant
Russian. He’d probably have a fit of the vapors and the show would
have to be canceled. Besides, Vries knew Antoine meant no harm. He
just wanted to created buzz which in turn would result in more
money for the charity he favored.

“Sit down, Leo,” she said. “You’re scaring
people. Especially me. Just for the record, there is no bad blood
between us. I doubt we’ve said twenty words in the ten years she’s
been out. I can’t believe people are still expecting us to make a
scene. I’m thirty-five years old for Christ’s sake. Time out for
this shit,” Vries said as she rose from her seat.

Cesaré had been placed in a station not far
from her own, and Vries quickly made her way toward the area where
the other model was seated with a hair stylist putting her hair up
in hot rollers. The woman stared up at her, curiosity evident in
her huge wide-spaced eyes. She made to rise from the chair and
Vries knew she had to act before Cesaré had a chance to ask what
the hell she was doing there, thus adding fuel to all the rumors
about them. Before anyone could react, Vries leaned over the other
woman and placed her lips on hers. There were audible gasps around
the room. The astonishment was absolutely palpable. When she raised
her head, Cesaré was staring at her a slight smile of wry amusement
curving her lips. Vries nodded at her, returned her smile then rose
to her full height. With an arched brow she glanced around the room
at all the awestruck faces. Mission accomplished. Then she crossed
the room with as much coolness as she could muster and returned to
her own seat. Leo and Sharla both stood there staring at her as
though not believing their eyes.

Vries cut her eyes over to Leo as she
casually dropped back into the chair.

“What? Are you jealous?” she asked with an
arched brow.

Leo resumed his seat. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not there was tongue
involved.”

Oh, to hell with
makeup
. Vries threw her head back and
laughed until her sides ached. If every person in the room hadn’t
been staring before they certainly were now, including Cesaré who
returned Vries’s smile with one of her own.

Chapter Seven

“I absolutely cannot believe how big it is,”
Vries said, staring in wonder.

Leo lowered his head, looking a bit abashed.
“Yes, that’s pretty much everyone’s reaction.”

Vries frowned. “Exactly how many people have
seen it?”

He chuckled. “A lot fewer than you would
think.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “The damned
thing really should have its own zip code. I’ve never seen one so
big before in my life.”

“Now I think you’re exaggerating. It’s not
that impressive, I’ve certainly seen bigger.”

She stared at him a few seconds, then looked
back down. “I mean, how did it ever fit?”

“Rumor has it they had to take down a door,
or maybe a wall.”

Vries walked around to the other side of the
outrageously large marble tub, shaking her head in disbelief. She
hadn’t seen it when they came back to Leo’s place the previous
evening because it was on the other side of the master bath in what
she’d thought was a closet. Despite her misgivings about moving in
with Leo so quickly, she couldn’t deny that it made sense in regard
to her assignment, but she’d only moved enough clothes for the next
couple of weeks. She continued to stare at the tub. The huge marble
edifice was large enough for no fewer than six people. And though
she really hoped otherwise, she suspected the taps were real
gold.

“Funny, you don’t strike me as a tub kind of
guy at all,” she said.

“I’m not. I’ve never used it. It takes too
long to fill the thing. I’m usually in a hurry.”

Vries stared at him. Sacrilege. Absolute
sacrilege. If she could, she would live in it. Such a huge tub was
a tremendous luxury. She’d gradually adapted to the size of
European fixtures, so much so that when she traveled to the States
she was surprised by the size. “So why do you have it?” she
asked.

He shrugged. “It came with the house, I
never really thought about it.” He turned to leave the room.

“Oh, no. No way am I going to miss out on
this,” she said. “I love a nice long soak.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and it’s not every day I get a chance
to use a tub this large.”

“Well, by all means have at it.”

She looked up at him her lips forming what
she knew to be a delicious pout. “You mean, you won’t join me? A
tub like this is designed for company.”

His face brightened immediately as he smiled.
“But of course.”

As he’d said, it did take a long time to
fill the tub, but it had some type of mechanism to keep the water
warm as it filled. Once it was done, Vries stepped in and Leo
followed her. She sank back against his chest with a happy
sigh.

“Yet another perk of being a
billionaire.”

“Yes, and one I didn’t even know about,” he
said.

“You mean you’ve never bathed with anyone?”
The satiny smooth water whorled around them. Seated as she was with
her back to his front Vries felt cocooned and secure in a way she’d
never experienced. This was positively yummy.

“Like I said, I’m usually too busy.” He
shrugged, then began cupping the water and streaming it over her
bare breasts. Her nipples immediately budded in response to the
soft caress of the warm water.

“How would you like to go to the opera with
me tonight?” he said.

“The opera?” she said turning in the water to
face him.

“I suppose I should’ve asked if you enjoy
opera?” he said with a rueful expression.

“Sure, I’ve been a couple of times. It’s
impossible to live in Milan and not go, but I never would have
pegged you for an opera type of guy.”

“I am Russian. There is
artistry in my blood, not a lot of it, but it is there.
Pagliacci
is my favorite
opera. They’re doing a special production to commemorate its
premiere here.”

“
Pagliacci
? Clowns? Your favorite
opera is about clowns?” she said, wondering if she would ever tire
of getting to know this man. The various facets of his character
were endlessly fascinating.

“The themes are universal, the treachery of
a woman, the broken hearted man. Death and mayhem,” he said with a
dismissive wave of one hand, while sliding his other hand languidly
up and down her arm.

Vries gave him a sad shake of her head. “If
those are universal themes for you, you need new people, but sure
we can go to the opera tonight.”

He palmed her bottom under
the water sending a
frisson
of response up her spine. “Wear something amazing
tonight. I want to show you off.”

“Are you implying that I don’t always look
amazing?” She arched an imperious brow.

“Only a foolish man would say such a thing,
and I’ve never been a fool.” He slid his hands up her back to pull
her into his embrace. Her legs automatically wrapped around his
waist in the water. “But that can wait. We have all day for this,”
he said as he raised his head to seek her lips. “And that’s the
best perk of all.”

Vries swirled in front of the full-length
mirror in Leo’s bedroom. The sleek white dress she was wearing
moved against her legs, revealing a thigh high slit which showed a
flash of leg each time she moved. The dress had been an impulse buy
from a show last spring. She rarely wore anything that wasn’t
Girasole; after all, she was paid an outrageous amount of money to
do so, and the clothes were free, but this dress had literally made
her mouth water. In order to show off the elegant origami-type
folds in the back, she’d pinned her hair up into a chignon which
she’d left deliberately messy in contrast with the crisp
sophistication of the dress. She intended to make Leo beg, and had
no doubt this dress would do the trick.

She frowned as she picked up her heavily
jeweled minaudière. Given her preferences they wouldn’t be going
out tonight. Logically she knew they could be attacked anywhere,
but she felt better able to protect Leo in the home Deringer had so
carefully secured. All indications were that if a hit was coming,
Milan was the best location simply because it gave Putilin greater
deniability. Hitting such a high profile person was a bold move,
but the Russian president was legendary for making bold moves. It
would certainly be easier if he could simply deny any knowledge.
That would be more believable if it occurred outside Russia. No one
would actually believe it, but it would be more plausible if
everyone didn’t already know the man was a homicidal maniac.