Everyone liked Maisy. Which was fine. Except it made him liking her slightly more awkward. He didn’t know why, but he felt a distinct vibe of disapproval from Maria this morning. It was ridiculous. Maisy was over twenty-one, and she was a sexually active young woman—it made sense they’d ended up in bed together. He wouldn’t be fulfilling his function as a fit and healthy twenty-nine-year-old male if he didn’t drag her off to bed.
Yet that wasn’t exactly how it had been. Maisy wasn’t just some girl, and it hadn’t felt like a function. It was the beginning of something—he just couldn’t quite grasp what it was that was making him so uneasy. And this morning had been eminently worthwhile. In fact it had been a revelation.
Still, he had to separate this woman from this child, and do it with the least amount of trauma to either of them.
But Maisy was sitting there, being all that was motherly with Kostya, and it affected him. She was incredibly feminine—something he suspected was playing havoc with his usual defences in this kind of situation.
He would have had to be blind this morning not to see how relieved she was to have him confirm their encounter was not casual. And now she was everything soft and tender, cradling the child in her arms, looking exactly like the kind of woman a nice guy would want to protect and cherish and probably marry. Hell, she had ‘wife material’ written all over her. Absolutely off-limits to a guy like him. Yet he’d gone ahead and infiltrated her affections anyway.
It was about time he made sure she understood. He didn’t want her to nurture any illusions about him. He was a bastard, and Maisy needed to understand that before she started confusing what he was offering her with happy families and swamping them both in unnecessary and dangerous emotion.
The thought assailed him that he wasn’t exactly clear on what he was offering her, and for one tiny moment he allowed himself a glimpse of just what a relationship with Maisy might look like.
Which was probably why he didn’t pull any of his next punches.
‘Maisy, if you’re worried about Maria stop it now.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she muttered.
‘Maria is accustomed to female guests coming down to breakfast in a great deal less than you’re wearing, dushka. I wouldn’t let it bother you.’
He knew it was a brutal thing to say. Something flinched inside as he actually witnessed the moment she took his meaning. Her eyes flew to his, and then flashed away as she turned her face into Kostya’s curls.
Alexei felt cold to his stomach. Congratulations, he thought, you’re a bigger bastard than you thought.
With the rug pulled from under her, Maisy scrambled for a foothold in this strange new world. How on earth was she going to stay here with him and pretend to be okay with all this? A little voice reminded her he wasn’t trying to insult her—he was just telling her how it was. It wasn’t as if she’d imagined he lived like a monk, but for him to actually tell her she was one in a queue was probably the hardest thing she would ever have to hear from him. Until he said goodbye. Which, clearly, would be sooner rather than later.
But the truth wasn’t what she wanted this morning. She wanted a show of affection and his hand in hers … and a little reassurance.
What she got was a man who had put in the time for sexual gymnastics first thing, but was keen to put it all behind him now the day had begun.
‘So, will you be spending the day with Kostya?’ Maisy was proud of how level she sounded—as if the waves of pain crashing over her were being deflected by a larger sense of self-preservation.
‘Why don’t you spend it with us?’
He actually sounded gentler, but Maisy couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She started when he reached down to lift Kostya from her arms, and felt a twinge of regret when Kostya went so willingly. Maisy didn’t know what to do now. She felt awkward sitting at his feet, with images of the intimacies they had shared shredding the atmosphere between them. She couldn’t go back, she realised, panicked.
‘I think I want to be alone for a while,’ she said stolidly.
Stupid girl, stupid girl, stupid girl.
She clambered to her feet, feeling ungraceful and at a disadvantage, and walked as fast as she could across the terrace, not aware of where she was going, just conscious of wanting to put some distance between herself and the rocks on which she had shipwrecked herself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALEXEI watched her go. Why had he opened his big mouth? Why hurt her like this? It had barely begun and he was tearing shreds off her.
‘Want Maisy,’ wailed Kostya, clinging to his shirt front.
Alexei looked down at the infant’s ominously reddening face. He was clearly reacting to all the tension. I’ve stuffed this up, Alexei thought flatly. ‘I want Maisy too, malenki chelovek.’