Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence - Shaw Chantelle (полная версия книги txt) 📗
The Villa Corraline was a stunning Provencal-style house, set in beautiful grounds and commanding spectacular views of the coastline of the Cote d’Azur. It was dark when they arrived, and Ella was instantly captivated by the sight of the house, lit with lamps which turned the pink walls to a deep coral colour. When she followed Vadim inside, she glimpsed various elegant, marble-floored rooms, but she was still dazed with sleep, and only made a token protest when he swept her into his arms and carried her up the sweeping staircase to the huge, circular master bedroom, which was dominated by an enormous bed.
‘I only packed enough clothes for a week,’ she said, when she caught sight of the small suitcase that a member of Vadim’s staff must have collected from her hotel in Paris.
‘You’ll find everything you need in here,’ he replied, pulling open one of the wardrobes to reveal a rail full of dresses and skirts in a rainbow of soft colours that would suit Ella’s delicate skin-tone.
Frowning, she ran her hand along the row of clothes, noting that each item carried the label of a top design house. ‘I don’t understand. Who do these things belong to?’ she asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she remembered how he kept a selection of bathrobes in his wardrobe at Kingfisher House for his lovers. If he thought she would wear clothes belonging to one of his previous mistresses, he’d better think again!
‘They’re yours. I gave details of your size and colouring to a personal stylist and asked her to put together a selection of outfits for you,’ he explained with a shrug-as if the subject of what she would wear during their stay in France was of minimal interest.
‘I can’t possibly allow you to buy clothes for me,’ Ella told him fiercely. She owned a few designer evening gowns which she had bought for performances, and she had a good idea how much each item hanging in the wardrobe must have cost. The idea of being beholden to any man was repugnant to her. ‘I pay my own way,’ she told Vadim stiffly. ‘Perhaps your personal stylist will be able to take the clothes back and get a refund.’
Ella was the only woman he had met since he had achieved billionaire status who did not seem to think that an affair with him included unrestricted use of his credit card, Vadim noted.
His eyes narrowed on her flushed face, and for a moment Ella thought she had angered him, but then his mouth curved into a sensual smile that she found impossible to resist. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You need something to wear while you’re here. Many of my friends own houses along the coast, and we will do a fair amount of socialising. Although if you insist on walking around naked for the next couple of weeks I won’t complain,’ he promised, in a voice that was suddenly as rich and sensuous as crushed velvet.
The brush of his mouth across her lips, before he trailed a line of kisses down her throat to the pulse beating jerkily at its base, demolished her thought processes and effectively put an end to further argument about the clothes he’d bought for her. But later that night, after Ella had briefly donned a sexy black silk chemise, and he had teased and tormented her senses as he had taken his time removing it, she made a silent vow that she would only wear the clothes while she was his mistress, and would return them when their affair was over.
After a night when Vadim made love to her three times, and drove her to a shattering climax on each occasion, Ella did not stir until mid-morning. Sunlight dancing across her face finally prompted her to open her eyes, and she caught her breath at the magnificent view of the cobalt-blue Mediterranean visible through the glass walls of the circular room.
‘I take it the house meets with your approval?’ Vadim was propped up on one elbow beside her, amusement gleaming in his eyes when he took in her rapt expression. He looked devastatingly sexy, with a night’s growth of dark stubble shading his jaw and his olive-gold skin gleaming in the sunlight, and the sheet lying low over his hips barely covered the jutting length of his arousal.
‘It’s wonderful.’ Looking at him made her heart ache, and she quickly glanced back at the view, praying he would never guess how much he affected her.
‘You haven’t seen the pool yet-or the gardens, or the private beach.’ Her beautiful smile tugged at Vadim’s insides. Her excitement was infectious, and for the first time in years he found he was looking forward to having some time away from the punishing work schedule he imposed on himself. ‘We’ll spend the day exploring the house and grounds,’ he promised, ‘and this afternoon we can go to the beach and I’ll take you out on the jet-ski.’
They quickly fell into a pattern of spending their days by the pool or on the beach, sometimes driving into Antibes town, or along the coast to Cannes and St Raphael. Occasionally Vadim retreated to his study to work during the afternoons, but more often he sat on the terrace and listened to Ella play the violin for two or three hours at a stretch.
‘What are you going to serenade me with today?’ he quipped late one afternoon, when they had retreated from the blazing heat of the patio to the shade of the tall pine trees that surrounded the garden.
‘I thought a little Tchaikovsky to start with, followed by Brahms.’ Ella turned the pages of her music score and settled her violin beneath her chin. ‘I still find it strange to play wearing a bikini,’ she owned with a smile.
‘You could always take the bikini off,’ Vadim suggested dulcetly, ‘if that will help?’
She blushed at the wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know what happens when I take my clothes off.’
‘Mmm, I feel duty-bound to make love to you.’ Vadim trailed his eyes over Ella’s slender figure in her minuscule turquoise bikini, and allowed his gaze to linger on her small, firm breasts which were barely covered by the triangles of material. Would he ever have enough of her? he wondered as he felt himself harden. She was like a fever in his blood, and he was tempted to carry her inside and sate his hunger for her for the third time that day.
‘I really need to practise,’ she murmured, recognising the sultry intent in his eyes.
His smile stole Ella’s breath, and her heart seemed to swell in her chest until she was sure he could see it beating frantically beneath her ribs. Surely she was not imagining the close bond that she sensed was developing between them? she thought, hope soaring inside her. They had become friends as well as lovers, Vadim shared her love of music, and he was the only person she had ever met apart from her mother who seemed to understand how much it meant to her.
‘Then play for me,’ he bade her, leaning back on the sun lounger and folding his arms beneath his head. ‘I’ll conserve my energy for later.’
For the next hour Ella was utterly absorbed in her music, but at last she lowered her bow and flexed her fingers. Vadim was no longer watching her play, and instead was staring across the garden to the sea, which sparkled like a sapphire beneath the dense blue sky.
‘Penny for them?’ she said cheerfully, her teasing smile fading when she glimpsed an expression of raw pain in his eyes, before his urbane mask slipped back into place. ‘Is-is something troubling you, Vadim?’ she faltered, so shaken by what she had seen that she ignored his warning frown that he did not welcome questions about his personal life. It was not the first time she had sensed that his thoughts were far away, and when he stared at her without replying she found his brooding silence unnerving.
He shrugged laconically. ‘What could be troubling me, angel face?’ he drawled. ‘I’m enjoying good weather, fine food and the company of a beautiful mistress in my bed every night. What more could any man ask for?’
