The Russian Billionaire

I am so incredibly happy I can hardly eat. I finally understand what people mean when they say, I’m on cloud nine.

Raine

I think I might have drunk too much, because the rest of the night passes in a dream. We touch, we kiss, we hold, and we have sex, but sex feels different. It feels as if he cares. Of course, I don’t fool myself that he really does, but it just feels as if he does. It’s probably all that alcohol sloshing around in my veins.

We wake up early in the morning and I go to my room and slip into my new riding gear, complete with riding boots and go outside. The air is crisp. He is standing next to a pillar looking into the distance. He seems to be lost in deep thought.

“Hey,” I whisper.

He whirls around to look at me. “Wow! Turn around.”

I obey.

“You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen,” he decides.

I blush. I don’t know why I’m blushing.

He smiles, a knowing smile. I look at his beautiful face and start to feel butterflies fluttering in my tummy. But I don’t want to be like Chloe and the girl who tried to throw herself off the building. I need to keep myself sane. I need to keep a little bit of myself aloof. This is just a dream. When it is over he will be gone and I will have a healthy sister.

We ride together. Konstantin on a shiny black Arabian stallion, and me on a beautiful golden horse called Laika. It was immediate when I sat astride her that riding a horse is like riding a bicycle. You never forget. Laika responds beautifully. I pat her shiny neck.

“Shall we race that silly black Arabian stallion?”

She moves her head as if nodding.

“Wanna race?”

Konstantin’s eyebrows rise. “Why? You feel like losing?”

“Are you too chicken?”

He laughs. “No, I just like to have you in one piece.”

I laugh. “Oh, you little coward.”

“Go on. I’ll give you a head start.”

“No, I don’t want a head start. I want to win fair and square.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a man like you either. Now, are we racing or not?”

He grins. “On the count of three?”

“On the count of three,” I confirm.

Of course, I lose. It’s not Laika’s fault. No one told me that the Arabian stallion could actually fly.

To his credit, he doesn’t gloat. We go back and have a huge English breakfast. I have the works. Fried tomatoes, sausages, bacon, eggs, baked beans, and mushrooms. I don’t know whether it’s how this produce tastes in England or it could be the fresh air and the exercise, but it all tastes absolutely delicious.

Then it is time for us to leave. As I pack my suitcase, I actually shed some tears. What if I never come back? I have so loved my time in London.

The trip back passes too quickly. Yes, we have sex, but it feels too quickly over. I feel almost tearful, but I remind myself no one likes a clingy tearful woman. I won’t be like Chloe and the other girl. I won’t do that to myself or him.

There is a separate car waiting for me.

“I’ll call you,” he says, as he bundles me into it.

“Okay,” I croak. Then the door is shut and the car moves away. I turn my head to watch him. He lifts his hand in a wave and I wave back. Then I turn my head forward and stare at the leather upholstery in the car. I won’t cry. I just won’t cry. I will concentrate on only one thing. I have saved my sister.

The driver drops me off outside my house. He helps me with my suitcases. “It’s okay. I can manage from here,” I tell him.

“You sure?” he asks. “I don’t mind taking them to your door.

“It’s okay, thanks.”

I wheel my two suitcases into the lift. I feel strangely light-headed. I cannot believe how much I miss him. The lift opens and I get in. Tears fill my eyes. I dash them away. Stop being so silly. Grow up for God’s sake. It was just a dirty weekend. As long as Maddy gets her treatment, and I instinctively know he won’t break his word, then nothing else matters.

I get out of the elevator and head towards our home. For the first time, I notice how shabby the corridor is. The peeling paint, the threadbare carpet, the stains. I put my key in the door and the door gets yanked open.

Maddy throws her arms around me. “I’ve missed you,” she cries passionately.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on here? I’ve only been gone for a weekend.”

“It feels like forever,” she complains. “Don’t go away again, please.”

“Oh Maddy, Maddy, Maddy.”

“I had a bad dream about you,” she whispers in my ear. “I dreamed your plane crashed.”