Born to be Bad (International Bad Boys Book 3) (8 page)

“I have,” Milly said. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you see now that I’m not grieving?”

“No,” Milly said. “I still believe that you are.”

“Well, it’s lucky that your side-job isn’t psychology, then.” He paused at the inference to a side-job.

Roman looked up to her and Milly almost knew what was coming, she could feel his need for escape and though she ached, physically ached, to be with him, she just gave him his drink and walked back to the kitchenette.

“Can it be my turn to have a migraine tonight?” Milly asked Simon and she was terribly close to tears.

“You’re not going with him!”

“No,” Milly said. “I just need to go home.”

She was petrified that if she stayed then she would.

He wished she would, he wished he could slip her the card to his suite for he would have given everything he owned to lose himself that night, yet he resisted, night after lonely night.

*     *     *

On the day
of Isaak’s wedding, as she got ready for work, Milly tortured herself by watching news updates about the wedding everyone was talking about.

Kate was the mystery woman who had flown under the radar and had taken everyone by surprise. She was a genealogist who worked at a large London library apparently and they had met Isaak through his late uncle.

It was a fairy-tale, the reporter said, as Kate and Isaak left the Russian Orthodox church as husband and wife.

Oh, anything involving the Zaretsky brothers was so far from a fairy-tale, Milly thought. She looked at Kate, saw the strain behind her smile and wondered what was really going on.

Work was quiet and thankfully, there was no Roman to worry about, given that he was at the wedding.

“You still haven’t requested morning shifts,” Simon pointed out as Milly poured some drinks in the kitchenette. “I’ll be doing the rosters for next month soon, so you need to put your availabilities in.”

“I shall,” Milly said.

Rehearsals had already started. The production would run for eight weeks, which meant matinee and evening performances. Working at the hotel in the mornings on top of everything else would be exhausting. Milly really wanted to immerse herself in the role and was hoping that it might lead to other things, but she didn’t have the confidence to quit her regular job.

Milly took the drinks out and smiled to the guests, and, with everyone happy, she went to the desk at the front and took out the diary and tried to work out her shift requests.

Perhaps she could request to work a double shift on a Sunday, Milly thought. On the day there was no production and then . . .

She glanced up as the door opened and there was Roman. He always looked amazing, but tonight he literally took her breath away—he was dressed in a dark grey suit and wore a silver-grey tie and he was clean shaven.

“Good evening, Roman,” Milly said and stood, he didn’t return her greeting and she followed him over to his regular table.

“May I get you a drink?”

“Why do you ask me the same question every night when you already know the answer?”

“It’s hotel policy,” Milly answered, refusing to let his bad mood rattle her.

“Wouldn’t they expect their staff to use some initiative?”

“We’re told never to presume.”

“Well, presume tonight.”

Milly walked into the kitchenette and did her best not to slam the door. “Roman’s here,” Milly said and Simon blew out a tense breath.

“And?”

“In a filthy mood.”

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, as Milly poured Roman an apple juice but Milly didn’t answer, instead she headed out and placed his drink in front of him.

“What’s that?” Roman asked.

“An apple juice,” Milly sweetly replied. “I’m
presuming
that you’ve already had enough.”

He looked up and actually smiled and, to her own annoyance, Milly found herself smiling back. “How was the wedding?” Milly asked because she couldn’t help but be curious.

“A joke,” Roman said. “It finished early out of respect to Ivor and my late wife. Which is another joke.”

He looked around the lounge and he was clearly spoiling for a fight. “Where’s the old goat?”

“He checked out.”

“Pity.” Roman sulked. “The happy couple have headed off to Paris for their honeymoon. Kate looks like she’s headed for the gallows. I’m guessing a virgin.”

Milly couldn’t help but smile, at times he was so shockingly indiscreet with her.

“I remember my honeymoon,” Roman mused. “Far from paradise.” He looked down at the glass of apple juice that she had fetched him. “I’m not drinking that.”

“Fine,” Milly said and picked it up and returned a couple of moments later with his usual drink.

“How did you know I wanted vodka?” Roman lightly teased as she put down his drink.

“Just a lucky guess,” Milly smiled.

Why did he have to be so beautiful, Milly thought. Why did he have to still be able to make her smile?

And in the same moment make her want to cry.

“Everyone was avoiding asking me about Ava tonight.” He looked up to Milly and squinted. “I’d have told them if they’d only had the guts to ask.”

“How did you find out that she’d lied to you?” Milly was brave enough to ask.

“I was in Dubai when she rang and said she’d lost the baby. I flew straight home to be with her—as soon as I heard I just headed for the airport. I knew our marriage wasn’t great, but I didn’t want her dealing with that alone. I was expecting her to be a wreck but instead I found her all dressed up, half pissed on champagne and getting ready to go out with her friends.”

“You knew then?” Milly asked but Roman shook his head.

“I figured that maybe Ava was dealing with things in her own way. I wasn’t really checking up on her then but I asked if I could see the ultrasound photo. She’d had one a few days before and I just needed to—” He thought for a moment and Milly just stood there. “I wanted to see my child, that was all, but Ava said that she couldn’t remember where she’d put the ultrasound photo. I guessed then that there had never been one.” He looked up to Milly. “You’d want to see it wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would.” Milly was very close to crying. If she had lost a baby, she doubted anyone could have prized the image from her hands for some time.

“And when I asked Ava what doctor was seeing her, she just said something vague. We started arguing and I said I didn’t believe that there ever had been a baby and she headed out to her car and drove off . . . I should have stopped her.”

“Why?” Milly asked.

“She was drunk.”

“How could that be your fault?” Milly asked. “I don’t think you should have another drink now, but if you ask for one, I’ll get it. If you go out now and drive, then that’s your choice.”

“Get me an apple juice,” Roman said and Milly rolled her eyes. “No seriously,” Roman said, he was done with introspection and he wanted to see her smile. “I’m getting a taste for it.”

She fetched him another apple juice and this time he took it without comment, and then he looked out of the window rather than to Milly.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Roman asked.

“No, I’m off now for a few days.”

“I’m checking out soon,” Roman told her. Still, he didn’t look at her, he just stared out of the window as he spoke and she was grateful for that because as his words hit, nothing could have masked the pain in her eyes.

“Are you moving back home?”

“No,” Roman said. “Well, I shall be when I get back, but I am thinking of going to Russia to visit my father. He doesn’t have very long to live.”

“I’m—”

“Please don’t say that you’re sorry,” Roman interrupted. “He was a very cruel man. Isaak thinks I’m a fool to go and visit, he’s reminded me of some of the stuff that our father did, the sort of things I have spent the last decade doing my best to forget. He nearly killed me once.” He gave a soft laugh that contained no humour and then he did look at Milly and the want in her eyes matched his.

Yes, the wedding had finished early and he could have stayed there and carried on drinking. He hadn’t been with anyone since Milly, and Roman had intended to rectify that tonight with one of the many beautiful women present.

He didn’t want them though.

“When I get back, you’re going to be playing Desdemona?” Roman said, and Milly nodded. “How is it going?”

“Wonderfully.”

“You’ll leave here soon,” Roman said, because he knew what an amazing actress she was. “You’re going to be snapped up, and you know, I’ll be so happy for you, and yet . . . ”

“Yet?”

“I’ll miss knowing that you are here,” Roman admitted. “I miss that night.”

He put down the card to his room on the table, but she ignored it.

“Milly . . . ”

“I need to get on.”

And he said a word that he rarely did and never thought for sex he would. “Please.”

“I can’t tonight,” Milly said, and walked off.

She wanted to be angry at him, but she was more angry at herself because of how badly she wanted to pick up the card and go to his room just for the bliss of another night with him.

He was such a bastard though, just so arrogant, Milly thought as she locked up the drinks fridge and cupboards on the stroke of nine pm.

She couldn’t ask Simon to go home early again, so she started setting up for breakfasts as the guests started to leave, including Roman.

It was agony.

Milly knew he was in hell tonight.

She was actually crying as she laid out the cutlery and trying not to let Simon see.

Tonight was the last night that they would be here together. Tonight Roman needed her. She could end her money problems here and now, throw herself into the role of Desdemona, be with the man she loved for one more night . . .

“Someone left their swipe card . . . ” Simon commented.

“I’ll take it down to reception on my way out,” Milly said and went to take it from him.

“Oh, no, you won’t,” Simon said as realisation hit. “This is where Roman was sitting.”

“Simon, please. He’s checking out, I won’t see him again.”

“So you’ll whore yourself out to him tonight? No way will I let you.” He went to the desk and took some scissors from the drawer and cut the card into two and tossed it into the bin. “Milly . . . ” Simon said, as she put on her coat and finally she gave into the tears. “You’d regret it tomorrow.”

“I know that I would.” Milly nodded. “You’re right.”

She took the elevator down when she wanted to go up. She walked through the dark streets and dragged herself home, when she wanted to turn and run to Roman.

Yes, she was being virtuous and good and not lowering herself to his level again.

Yet, she had seen the pain in his eyes and all Milly knew was the truth.

Tonight, she had failed him.

T
here were too
many hours in the day without Roman in any of them.

On her days off, Milly threw herself into rehearsals and there were costume fittings to slot in, between visiting her mum, and it should have been busy and it was, yet there were still too many hours in the day.

She kept waiting for the moment when she would realise that an hour had gone by without Roman entering her thoughts.

It never came.

She kept wishing a night would pass when she didn’t dream of him.

It didn’t happen.

Or a morning when she didn’t wake with regret for not going again to him.

That never happened too.

“The costumes are beautiful,” Milly told her mum one afternoon as she did her mother’s hair. “The one for my final scene . . . ”

“Where he kills you?” Catherine checked, and Milly smiled. Sometimes her mother didn’t know where she was, or what day of the week it was, but the days when she was lucid, Milly treasured.

“It’s white, it’s supposed to be a nightgown but to show her virtue it’s more like a wedding gown. Oh, mum, it’s gorgeous. I can’t believe I’m having these stunning costumes designed for me to wear them!”

“Will I be able to see you?” Catherine asked and Milly nodded.

“I’ve already spoken to the nurses and one of them can come with you to watch me.”