‘Which you, of course, gave her?’
‘It seemed ungentlemanly to refuse.’
‘And we all know how much of a gentleman you can be in the back of cars, Nikolai!’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why don’t you just come right out and ask me if I slept with her, Zara?’
‘Did you?’
‘No, I damned well didn’t!’ he exploded, smashing his fist down on the cupboard so that the glass wobbled and splashed vodka down the side. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone since I first laid eyes on you. I haven’t wanted to. In fact, since the moment I met you—it’s like other women don’t even exist! I can’t seem to get enough of you.’
She bit her lip—because didn’t he make that sound more like some sort of fierce sexual obsession than anything really meaningful? ‘I find that very hard to believe.’
‘Oh, I’ll bet you do,’ he snapped. ‘What does it take to convince you, Zara? I thought I’d take things slowly.
Show you how much I care for you in real ways. So I didn’t object when you insisted on continuing with your waitressing—even though the money they pay you is ludicrous. I admired your independence, if you must know. And I like those little presents you buy me when I go away.’
‘Nikolai—’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You go on and on about wanting to be my equal—but emotionally you don’t have the courage to try. You dared to be tender with me the first time we made out—but now it’s as if you’re holding back all the time. You used to make me dig deep inside myself. I’d never have found out about my mother if it hadn’t been for your damned persistence. Sometimes I resented it, but at least you made me confront things. You made me feel alive. But not any more. Now all I get from you is precisely—’ he snapped his fingers and his face tightened ‘—nothing.’
Her fingers flew to her lips in distress. ‘Nikolai—’
‘I’ve given you more than I’ve ever given any woman and I don’t know whether there’s anything left to give—because I get nothing back. Nothing! You affect not to care about my money or power and yet, deep down, I think that you despise them. They’re all you see—instead of the man underneath—the man who stupidly thought you might be able to look beneath all the trappings.’ He bent to pick up his jacket and headed for the door and it wasn’t until Zara heard him talking on his phone to his driver that she realised he was actually going out!
‘Where are you going?’ she yelled.
‘To the party! If I get such an empty reception at home, then maybe I’ll try to find a little comfort elsewhere. And let’s face it—’ she could hear the grim note in his voice ‘—if I’m going to be accused of something I might as well get the benefits of it!’
She heard the door slam just as she began to frame his name and she dashed through the hall to open it just in time to see his car pulling away. For a moment she contemplated sprinting up the road after it, but the powerful car was already down by the electronic gates, its tail lights flashing. Her heart slamming, she stared at the gates closed behind it. He’d gone to the party! He’d spoken to her more honestly than he’d ever done before and then he had walked out.
And suddenly she saw her own part in what had gone wrong.
She had accused him of infidelity—she had wanted to believe the very worst of him—was it any wonder that their relationship hadn’t deepened when she had been sitting on the sidelines just waiting for him to step out of line? Yet he had never given her any reason to believe that he was interested in other women, had he? She wondered if her lack of trust was driven by his reluctance to offer her any long-term future—or just her general insecurity that a man like Nikolai should be living with someone like her.
So had they now reached a stalemate—with each of them too scared to proceed any further? She because she was afraid of getting hurt and Nikolai because he simply didn’t know how to express emotion?
Distractedly, Zara stared out at the beautiful garden. Yet would a man who could have any woman he wanted bother living with someone unless he felt something?
And meanwhile he had walked out on her. Gone to some fancy party deciding that he was newly single and where any woman with a pulse would start coming onto him.
‘No!’ The strangled word was torn from her throat as she grabbed the invitation from the mantelpiece. Because what was the point of nurturing hope if you didn’t let it spark into an almighty flame big enough to melt doubt and uncertainty? What was the point of playing safe if that caused suspicion and unhappiness? Wasn’t it time to tell Nikolai exactly how much she loved him—to let it out into the open and see what happened?
She ran outside and then, minutes later, she was out on the main street outside the gates, searching for a cab. She saw one on the other side of the road and, to a cacophony of angry horns, she dodged the traffic to hail it down and jump in the back.
‘Take me to Primrose Hill,’ she said breathlessly as the driver turned off the yellow light. ‘As quickly as possible.’
The party was being held in a house which was as imposing as she had imagined and as she saw the immaculately dressed people going inside she suddenly realised how frightful she must look with her flushed cheeks and messy hair. But she didn’t care. There was something much more important at stake here than her appearance. She just prayed that she hadn’t left it too late …
She rang the doorbell and the uniformed butler raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes?’ he questioned unhelpfully.
‘I’m here for the party!’
His face twisted into an I-don’t-believe-you expression. ‘And do you have an invitation, madam?’
‘Yes. Here it is.’ Thank heavens she’d had the foresight to bring it with her. She thrust the card at him and pushed past him, not caring what he thought.