‘I’d like to speak to you about him, something personal. Can I sit down?’
He didn’t wait for the invitation, but lowered himself onto the armchair, catty-corner from the sofa she was now inhabiting.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms over his broad knees, fixing her with that intent grey gaze.
She’d been entertaining so many romantic fantasies about this man over the last twenty-four hours, to have him in the flesh inhabiting her small living room had the quality of one of those.
‘Where’s your little girl?’
‘Her aunty Meg is here for the weekend so she’s having a sleepover with her at my parents-in-law’s house. They live on the other side of the village.’
Something flickered in his gaze and Sybella could suddenly hear her heartbeat in her ears.
‘You were going to tell me something…personal about you and your grandfather?’ she prompted, aware her voice had a slightly airless quality to it.
He gave her a half-smile as if acknowledging the irony of the ‘something personal’ when right about now everything about him being here felt personal.
‘I am,’ he said. ‘It begins with my parents. They were childhood sweethearts, Darya and Alex, and had been together for a long time before they had a separation of about a year, and my mother got pregnant with me. She mustn’t have thought that much of the guy because she rekindled her romance with Alex and he was apparently happy to call me his son.’
Sybella didn’t know what to say.
‘I don’t have any memories of my mother. She had a rare kidney condition and died when I was still a baby. Papa raised me alone until he remarried. They were good years or so I’m told. I lived on a lot of film sets but this is in Russia. Alex always used the same people and the crew were like family. When I was five I got a very flashy stepmother and several months later a baby brother. Sasha. I’m sure you’ve heard about him.’
‘Your grandfather mentions him from time to time. He seems to be in the public eye quite a bit.’
‘My little brother is famous for his films and his parties, not always in that order,’ Nik responded, but there was real warmth in his voice, as there had been when he’d spoken to his grandfather. Sybella was beginning to feel a little foolish about all her doubts. They were clearly a strong unit.
‘Sasha was four years old when our father slipped on a ledge climb in Turkey. Papa was chasing a shot for a film he was putting together. He always took risks. My brother is very much like him.’
Nik’s expression conveyed this wasn’t necessarily a positive thing.
‘I went to live with my grandparents after Alex’s death. My grandfather was a successful businessman. I don’t know if he’s talked to you about that part of his life.’
‘No, not really. We talk about family and books mainly.’
‘His favourite subjects.’ Nik was scrutinising her and she couldn’t blame him. She was fast becoming the vault of Voronov family secrets.
‘I’m not indiscreet, Nik. I won’t talk about this to anyone.’
He smiled then. ‘I wouldn’t be sharing this with you if I thought you would. I’m telling you all this, Sybella, because it appears my grandfather has taken quite a shine to you, and he’s told me how good you’ve been to him, and I behaved badly last night and I don’t want to leave here with you thinking the worst of me.’
‘But I don’t,’ she began, a little too anxious to assure him her feelings had changed. ‘I saw how close the two of you are this afternoon.’
‘I owe him so much,’ Nik said simply. ‘I only knew how much when I was fifteen and needed a blood transfusion and neither of my grandparents could help out. That was when Baba and Deda sat me down and told me the true state of affairs. I wasn’t their grandson.’
‘But you are,’ said Sybella unbidden, and then flushed. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t need me to tell you that.’
‘It’s all right.’ He was smiling at her and the effect of that smile was singing all over her body. ‘So you see,’ he said, ‘we have something in common.’