Modern Romance October 2015 Books 1-4. Annie West
have any maps around the place, Erin?’
‘I’m sure I can find one,’ she said, but her heart was beating very fast and she wasn’t sure why.
It turned out to be one of the most bizarre evenings of her life. During occasional moments of wistfulness or vulnerability, she’d sometimes tried to picture Dimitri with his son but had found it impossible to imagine the icy oligarch being warm and loving towards a child. Maybe she had misjudged him, or he was a better actor than she’d thought—because soon Leo was sitting happily up beside him as he pointed out seas and rivers on the map.
She’d told him that he couldn’t just swoop into their lives and carry Leo off to Russia—that he had to get to know the little boy first. She just hadn’t expected it to go so well. And when, a week later, she walked into the room and found two heads of molten gold bent over the table together in silent concentration as Dimitri showed Leo a photograph, a shiver of something like fear whispered over her skin.
Already they were sharing secrets.
Already she was the outsider.
‘What’s that?’ she said, glancing down at the photograph, which showed a beautiful house.
Dimitri raised his head. ‘It’s a place outside Moscow which I own.’
‘That’s...nice,’ she said, her voice growing uncertain.
He smiled but Erin could see a flicker of triumph in his blue eyes. ‘And I think we should take Leo there,’ he said.
‘Can we go, Mummy?’ Leo was asking, a look of excitement on his face. ‘Can we?’
Erin stared into the eyes which glittered so icily above Leo’s head and felt a punch of helpless rage. Hadn’t he ever heard of consensus? Of running it past her first? Of course not. He didn’t negotiate with women, because they always caved in and gave him exactly what he wanted. ‘I’m not sure if I can get anyone to cover for me at the café—not at such short notice.’
‘I can get you all the cover you need,’ he said, with cool assurance. ‘Neither you nor your sister need worry about a thing.’
He was just going to throw money at the problem, Erin thought. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. This was going to happen whether she liked it or not.
‘In that case, I don’t see why not,’ she said lightly. ‘It’s half-term next week, after all.’
* * *
Moscow was a city straight out of a fairy tale. As if Walt Disney had met with the local architects and been given a free hand in its design. Intricate buildings were topped with brightly coloured turrets shaped like artichokes. Golden monuments dazzled with giant stars. Statuesque government buildings lined the wide Moskva River, where boats drifted by in slow motion—all seen from the helicopter which had been waiting to whisk them away from the airport.
Despite her reservations about the trip, Erin could feel a growing sense of excitement as she looked around, while Leo was almost incoherent with delight as the bird-like craft whirred over the Russian capital.
‘Will it snow?’ asked Leo eagerly as he stared up into the clear blue sky. ‘Will it? My teacher says it always snows in Russia.’
‘Not always,’ answered Dimitri. ‘It usually starts at the end of October, so we may just miss it.’
Leo scowled. ‘But I want snow. I want to build a snowman!’
‘In that case...’ Dimitri smiled ‘...we might just have to come back again when it’s colder.’
His words made Erin’s fingers stiffen as she wound her new pashmina around her neck. She was trying not to fret about how her son would readjust to life in Bow after a trip like this, because how could he fail to be affected by Dimitri’s lifestyle? If he’d tasted private jets and helicopters and fast cars, surely it would seem mundane to have to hop on the local bus. If the man organising all this had only to lift his hand for someone to cater to his every whim—as had been demonstrated on every step of their journey—then wouldn’t Leo be seduced by that, no matter how hard she’d tried to bring him up to appreciate the simple things in life?
And what about her? Was she also in danger of being affected by the Russian influence and undeniable sex appeal? She’d been so sure of the person she was. Someone who didn’t want to believe in love any more. Someone who’d had her fingers burned and her heart bruised when she’d fallen for her oligarch boss all those years ago. She’d convinced herself that she had learned her lesson and would never allow herself to feel like that again.
So why was Dimitri dominating her thoughts like a pop song she couldn’t get out of her head? She knew he was no good for her. He’d made it clear he no longer wanted her. He’d had sex with her and then just pushed her away afterwards. He’d rejected her all over again and it hurt. It hurt like hell.
She shot a glance at his profile, at the high slash of his cheekbones and hard set of his lips. The sun was flooding into the helicopter, making him look precious and powerful—as if he’d been dipped in gold.
‘Look down there,’ said Dimitri, his rich accent breaking into her troubled thoughts. ‘We’re nearly there.’
They were passing over a huge patch of dark and impenetrable trees before beginning their descent towards the smooth circle of a helipad on the outskirts of the forest. A rush of air came up to meet them and a man on the ground signalled to the pilot—his hair plastered to his head as the craft came rocking to a halt. The blades stopped spinning and Dimitri jumped out, holding up his arms to Leo, while Erin exited the craft with as much grace as possible, glad she’d worn trousers.
A four-wheel drive was waiting and Dimitri took the wheel, speeding along a straight road which looked uncannily quiet after the crowded streets of Moscow. Soon they were entering the forest through a concealed and guarded entrance and passing mansion after mansion, some completely hidden behind high, dense hedges, while others offered a tantalising glimpse of turrets and towers.
Dimitri indicated left and the car swung through a huge pair of electronic gates and Erin peered out of the window. ‘What is this place?’ she asked.
‘It’s a private estate and each house is called a dacha. In England some people own second homes in the country and this is similar. Many Russians have them. It’s where I did most of my growing up.’
‘I thought you grew up in Moscow.’
‘No. My father was in the city a lot, but my mother preferred it here. They call it Moscow’s secret city. Many people think it doesn’t exist—that it’s just a myth—but as you can see for yourself, it isn’t. Just that not everyone knows where to find it, and that’s deliberate. It’s where the rich live—and play. Where there’s no pressure to be modest and no shame in showing off your wealth. They say that security here is tighter than in the Kremlin and very few outsiders are permitted entry. You should count yourself privileged, Erin.’
Privileged? She felt closer to panic, especially when Leo clutched at her hand.
‘Look, Mummy—look!’
Erin turned her head to see him pointing towards a stunning art deco house, which Erin recognised immediately. It was the house from the photograph. Up close, the tall house was even larger and more imposing than it had appeared in the glossy photo, and the unusual curved wooden door made it look like something out of a fairy tale.
There were so many questions Erin wanted to ask but there wasn’t time because the front door was being opened by a homely-looking woman whose creased face broke into a wide smile when she saw Dimitri. She looked as if she wanted to fling her arms around him but didn’t quite dare. And Erin was surprised by one of the most unguarded smiles she’d ever seen on the oligarch’s face as he bent his head to kiss the woman’s cheeks before speaking to her in rapid Russian.
‘This is Svetlana,’ he said, ‘who used to look after me