Innocent in the Ivory Tower

As she was escorted into the main salon she saw people on the foredeck actively craning their necks to get a glimpse of her. It was an odd sensation, and Maisy wasn’t sure she liked it. The attendant with her knocked briefly on a door, then nodded to Maisy and retreated.

‘Enter.’

Maisy felt very odd, waiting for permission to enter Alexei’s presence. He was applying cufflinks to his suit and he dropped one of them as he looked up and fastened his eyes on her.

She went to pick it up but he caught her hand, raising her up. ‘I want to look at you.’

His approval should have been gratifying, but Maisy was finding it difficult to enjoy it.

‘You look so different,’ he said, his accent thicker than usual.

‘It’s the hair and the make-up,’ she dismissed, trying to make light of it. ‘It’s still me underneath the scaffolding.’ She tried not to seem too eager, but couldn’t help asking, ‘Are you going to kiss me?’

‘Of course.’ He brushed his lips over her cheek.

Disappointed, Maisy tried to justify his coolness. She was wearing lipstick; they were both dressed up; he probably didn’t want to reek of her perfume …

‘You look beautiful,’ she said impulsively, touching his jacket, straightening what was already straight.

‘That’s my line,’ he replied, subtly drawing away.

But it hadn’t been his line. Different had been his line.

‘I’m nervous,’ she blurted out.

‘Don’t be. They’re only people.’

‘They’re your friends.’

‘No, Maisy, for the most part they’re just a crowd. You’ll enjoy yourself. I’d ask you to keep a lid on the Kostya situation, if you would. People are curious, but it’s none of their business.’

The Kostya situation? ‘I don’t quite understand.’

Alexei scooped up the gold cufflink. ‘Simple. I’ll be blunt. Don’t tell people you’re the nanny.’

He gave her a brief taut smile, as if trying to take the edge off his words.

‘No,’ Maisy said quietly, ‘I wouldn’t do that. It would be humiliating for me, considering my circumstances now.’

‘We’re not going to have an argument right now, are we, dushka?’ He was smiling but his eyes were hard. ‘So close to showtime?’

‘No, no argument.’ She focussed on his hands, fumbling with his cuff, and instinctively reached out and took the cufflink from him, fastening it to his sleeve in silence. She could feel him breathing so close to her. She stroked his wrist with her fingertips and his breathing hitched. It was the reassurance she needed. She lifted his hand and pressed her lips to his palm. It was then she realised why he had been having so much trouble with the cufflink. His hands were shaking.

Yesterday she would have asked him why. Today she gave him her best smile. ‘No one will notice lipstick on your hand, and if they do—’ her smile faltered only a little ‘—you can tell them it’s just a token of affection from your mistress.’

He didn’t correct her.

CHAPTER TEN

MAISY had felt overdressed as she was sped towards the yacht. Now, amidst so much luxury and Alexei’s guests, she was glad of her clothes and hair and insubstantial sandals. Some of these women were utterly breathtaking. The men were all cool and sharp and controlled. She recognised the type. She had been living with a prince of the blood for several weeks.

She desperately wanted to cling on to Alexei’s hand when she came out into the sunshine on his arm, but she knew deep down any sign of vulnerability would bring her closer to the edge of their relationship. She really didn’t want to fall today. Not in front of all these people.

Yet her fragility threatened to undermine her with every step. The heels on her sandals clicked on the teak decking, the silken underskirt of her dress flowed over her hips and thighs like cool water, yet her skin felt hot and tight and her throat ached from everything she was holding inside her.

Alexei had completely metamorphosed into a cool stranger and she was out of her depth. They were back to where they had been at midnight on that strange night weeks ago in London. It was as if all that had happened between them had been a feverish dream and at any moment he was going to look down at her and demand to know who in the hell she was.

It shocked her when he suddenly sped up, let go of her hand, and crashed into a bear hug with another man. It was genuine. As was his greeting to another equally imposing man. The women with them flashed smiles and a lot of jewellery, and kissed him joyfully in the European fashion.

Maisy tried not to gape. They all spoke in Russian at once, and as the seconds ticked by she felt more and more excluded, although they were all darting looks at her, waiting for Alexei to introduce her. If she had felt more confident she would have enjoyed his clear enthusiasm in the moment, but instead it only underlined how differently he was treating her.