CHAPTER TWELVE
LIBBY DRESSED IN a simple black dress and shoes and took extra care with her make-up and this time, as she waited for Daniil to arrive, she didn’t sit on the window ledge, looking out for him.
It had nothing to do with playing it cool, she simply couldn’t relax.
‘When did he get back from his business trip?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Libby said.
There had been one text and one phone call in total. It had taken a herculean effort not to call him back each night, not to text and ask when he would be home, or for confirmation of times for tonight.
No flowers again, no cyber displays of affection.
Still, she lived in a state of suspension, courtesy of the man who was taking her out tonight.
‘I am looking forward to it,’ she said to Rachel. ‘It’s just...’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll probably enjoy it once I’m there,’ she said, though it was more to convince herself. She wanted to see Daniil; tonight was important for so many reasons. It was their first date, a new start for both of them.
It wasn’t just seeing Firebird that weighed heavily on her mind, though, and she excused herself for the second time in an hour and fled to the bathroom. She was just about over convincing herself it was nerves that accounted for the constant feeling of nausea.
How could she tell him? she wondered.
She couldn’t, she decided, even though she wasn’t one for keeping her emotions or feelings in check.
At least till she was sure.
‘Daniil’s here!’
Rachel’s voice came down the narrow hall and as Libby brushed her teeth and topped up her lipstick she forced out a smile. There was so much pinned on tonight and she truly wanted to focus on the two of them, aside from everything else.
She walked down the hall. Rachel had let him in and he stood in her hallway and back in her life. The trouble with seeing so little of him was that each time she did, Libby was reminded in detail of his beauty.
The last time he had been in jeans and unshaven, his hair a touch too long. Tonight said hair was smoothed back but longer than she remembered. He still had the designer stubble and his skin was as pale as hers but without that English trace of peaches and cream. Even his scar seemed devoid of colour now.
‘When did you get back?’ she asked.
‘A couple of hours ago.’
His beauty, his demeanour, his guarded approach—she had not even known what country he was in till now—all daunted her.
No kiss, Daniil noted as she went for her bag.
No leaping into his arms, no guided tour of the house.
Just a scowl hurled at him by Rachel as a rather tense Libby wished her goodnight.
‘Your flatmate doesn’t approve of me,’ Daniil said as they drove to the restaurant.
‘She’s just...’ Libby shrugged. Maybe now was the time to tell him how hard tonight would be for her but then she glanced over and decided against it, quite sure that he wouldn’t understand.
It was strained, it was awkward and yet it had absolutely nothing to do with him. As she took her seat in the restaurant Libby didn’t know if it was the thought of watching Firebird or the scent of garlic coming from the kitchen that had her stomach hovering close to her throat.
‘Are you looking forward to the ballet?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’ She pushed out a smile as she read through the menu. ‘The costumes are supposed to be fantastic.’
The waiter hovered and Daniil wanted to tell him to give them ten minutes but if they were going to make it in time for the show then they needed to order now. He skimmed the menu as Libby deliberated.
‘I’d like the scallops...’ she started, and then stopped when she saw that the dish she’d chosen would be served on a butter bean sauce—from the tightening of her throat clearly her stomach didn’t approve. She wanted something plain and so changed her mind and chose the risotto but then read it had goat’s cheese and that made her want to gag too. ‘Actually—’ Libby called the waiter back ‘—I’ll have consommé.’
‘And for the main?’ the waiter asked, but Libby shook her head. ‘Just the consommé for me.’
‘Clear soup for dinner?’ Daniil frowned, remembering her comment about her appetite fading whenever she was anxious or stressed.
‘Please, don’t lecture me about eating.’ Libby’s response was tart.