The Lion in Russia (5 page)

He nodded. “So where would you like to have
breakfast?”

“After that workout? I’m scared of anything
more fattening than distilled water in a sterilized glass.” She
said, flashing the broad smile that always left him stuttering like
a boy.

“Sorry, I require more nourishment than that.
We could go back to my home for zavtrak. My cook makes delicious
blinis and right now I could eat my weight in them.”

“Don’t say that too loudly. Pietro will make
me run a marathon if he ever even imagines me eating pancakes of
all things. I do love them though, and would love some.”

“Sounds great,” he said, rising to his feet.
He leaned down to give Vries a hand up as she rose gracefully from
the floor. Pietro stood next to them as they did another round of
jumping jacks, interspersed with several burpees. After some
lengthy stretches that felt impossibly good after the brutal
workout they took advantage of the Spartan shower facilities. Leo
stood under the lukewarm water as it pounded down on his aching
muscles. The shower looked like something out of war surplus, but
what it lacked in heat, it more than made up in force and he
groaned again and again as her muscles surrendered to the
ablutions. Finally the sparse hot water ran out and he turned off
the taps. After toweling briskly and dressing in a pair of running
pants and a navy blue t-shirt he walked out into the foyer. Though
he expected to have a long wait Vries joined him in less than ten
minutes. She looked refreshed from the shower and with her amazing
abundance of hair caught up in two neat ponytails --really one day
he was going to have to ask how she did that-- she looked like a
young girl. Fortunately the look in her eye as she gazed at him was
all woman. Thank God.

“You can’t let me eat another one of these,”
Vries said as she all but inhaled her fourth blini. The tart sour
cream provided a delicious counterpoint to the piquant nuttiness of
the buckwheat in the tiny little pancakes. With the addition of the
salty smoked salmon, Vries felt she’d died and gone to culinary
heaven.

Leo grinned at her, showing an amazing set of
bright white teeth marred only by a slight overlap of the first
two. “I can’t imagine anything more erotic than watching you eat. I
think you’re giving me a fetish.”

“Yes, but you saw how I have to pay for such
indulgences.”

He shuddered in mock horror. “I can make it
worth it.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Leo sat back with a frown. “Is
that
what they say? Who are they?”

“What?” Vries said, totally distracted by the
blinis still attractively arranged on a platter his cook had placed
on the table. The dining room of Leo’s palazzo was enormous with a
table large enough to seat people well into the double digits. As
there was only the two of them Vries wondered why they couldn’t
just eat in the kitchen, but apparently that wasn’t done. Instead
she and Leo sat together at one end of the outrageously long table.
The ornate gilded table and lavish Venetian glass mirrors rendered
an air of opulence designed to impress. Vries, however, was far
more interested in the food.

“You said, ‘That’s what they all say,’” he
said quoting her.

“Did I?” Vries frowned. “I have no idea what
I meant. Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. I saw you with all
those men around you last night. They call you The Goddess of
Milan.”

“Good grief, Leo. You’re not jealous are you?
They’ve called me that since I was a girl forever ago. Besides you
don’t have anything to be jealous of. It’s not like we are in a
relationship or anything.”

“I realize that and would like to rectify
it.”

Vries picked up her mug of strong Russian
tea. Pasha served it all day long and Vries had developed a
definite taste for it. “As you said last night, but right now I
don’t really want to talk about it.” She picked up another blini.
“I just want to enjoy your company as much as possible.”

“I have no objection to that as long as
getting to know me includes you being in my bed.”

“You don’t let up do you?” Vries said as she
took a bite out of the blini.

“I didn’t get where I am today by letting up.
I doubt you did either,” he said.

“Clarise Johnson from Dawsonville,
Georgia?”

“You changed your name?”

“Of course I did. You forget, I came out
right after Tyra and Naomi, not to mention Cesaré. Clarise wasn’t
going to cut it. I needed to be different, exotic. Nobody knew
where I was from, at least not until I opened my mouth, but a
dialect coach fixed that. No, letting up was never an option. I had
to build Vries St. John from the ground up.”

“As did I. I think that’s part of my
attraction to you. You’re a woman who understands what it is to
work hard to create something out of nothing. We were born in a
world where no one had any expectations of us. I could have wound
up a drunken longshoreman like my father. Certainly no one expected
anything more.”

Vries nodded. She’d felt that fellowship with
him as well.

“So now some things in my life are changing,
and I refuse to wait any longer to be with you if it can be
helped,” he said.

“What’s changing?”

“I will have to return to Russia in a couple
of weeks to take care of a...business problem. It will probably be
a while before I can return.”

Vries took another sip of tea. And that was
probably as far as he would go in explaining what was going on in
his life. For a moment she was tempted to push the issue, just to
see his reaction, but really there was no point. After all, she
already knew far more about his business than she was entitled to
know.

“So basically you want to have a fling for a
couple of weeks before you return to your life in Russia?” Vries
asked. She had no idea why the suggestion hurt so much. She knew
what was going on in his life. Still she hated the idea of being
his short-term fling.

“I never said such a thing. I’ve been wanting
you for a long time. It never seemed the time was right. If I come
back...
when
I come back from Russia I want to take up where
we leave off.”

If he came back...she shivered at the
bleakness of his tone. Obviously he had revealed more than he
intended, but she decided to ignore his slip of the tongue. “That
being the case, I don’t see why this can’t wait until you return.
After all, we’ve waited this long.”

He pursed his lips, then shook his head with
a quick snap. “You’ll just have to trust me when I say it can’t
wait.”

Vries inhaled sharply, then covered it with a
cough. He knew exactly how dangerous his situation was and he
didn’t expect to return from Russia. Then why the hell was he
going? With his money he could afford to live pretty much anywhere.
Hell, with his money she could think of several entire
countries
he could have just for the offering. Then she
thought about what Lelia had told her; patriotism. Apparently he
really did love his country. Enough to die for it. Well, that
changed everything. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened
them the decision was made. Yes, it was unprofessional and Lelia
would like have her head for it. Deringer would have a fit as well,
but no way could she turn him down. And damnit, she’d keep him
alive too.

“In that case, then yes getting to know you
better does include sleeping with you.”

“Thank God,” he said casting his eyes
heavenward. He looked down again with hopeful eyes. “Today?”

Vries had to laugh. For a moment there he
looked like a boy turned loose in the candy aisle. And just that
made losing her professional scruples worthwhile. “Of course not
today, Leo, I’m due at a shoot in less than two hours.”

“Ah, I’d forgotten.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” she said.

“I could come with you.”

“I don’t think so. It’s for Girasole,
remember? Pasha might be there.”

He shrugged, then made a dismissive gesture.
“You worry for naught. Pasha and I...”

“I know. You’ve been divorced for ten years.
You’re business partners. You’re the best of friends.”

“We’re Russian. In Russia these things are
understood. Pasha and I are more like brother and sister,” he
said.

“I would certainly hope not, even in Georgia
we don’t cotton to marrying your sibling. Either way, I’m not
Russian, and where I come from we keep our ex-wives and our
potential lovers separate. There are a lot fewer dead bodies to
bury that way.”

He rolled his eyes heavenward, but changed
the subject. “I’ll have Pushka drive you to your appointment.”

“No, I can take a taxi, it’s not far.”

He shook his head firmly. “I insist. It would
be bad for my reputation for a young woman to be seen leaving my
house at this hour in a taxi. Never let it be said I’m not a
gentleman.”

“Somehow I doubt you care about such a thing,
besides I doubt anyone is up at this hour besides us and
Pietro.”

“There’s a first time for everything. I’ll
have Pushka take you.”

“In that case I have time for another cup of
tea,” she said.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“You know when you said you wanted to spend
the next two weeks with me, I didn’t think you meant literally. At
this rate I might as well move in,” she said shaking her head.

He smiled. “I was going to suggest it, but
thought you’d never agree. I will give you an extra key before you
leave. Would you like for Pushka to pick up your things at your
place?”

Vries took a deep breath, staring at him. For
a moment she couldn’t even form words. Of course, she’d wanted
things to work out this way. It would be far easier to guard him if
they spent as much time together as possible. Still, it would be
all too easy for this man to go to her head. Certainly he’d already
gone to her girly bits.

“You have got to be kidding.”

“Too soon? I’m not all that well-acquainted
with courting rituals, especially across international lines.”

“I doubt there’s a country where people move
in together after their first date. At least none I know of.
Besides, I doubt you pay any attention to any expectations to begin
with. Something tells me you do as you please and to hell with the
consequences.”

“And you would be correct. Unfortunately,
sometimes those consequences can be more than what one
anticipates,” he said looking away from her.

She knew immediately they weren’t talking
about dating anymore.

“I have no idea what time my shoot is over.
But yes, if you want to deal with me when I’m tired, hungry and
cranky, by all means come on by. But only if you bring food.”

Vries let herself into her flat, her hands
trembled so much for a moment she fumbled with the key. Not for the
first time she wondered why she’d agreed to meet Leo tonight of all
nights. Miralena took the most amazing photos of anyone working
today. She had an ability to make any model look positively
angelic. Which was a good thing because she was without a doubt a
spawn of Satan with a camera. An absolute slave driver, the woman
didn’t stop shooting until she’d dragged every bit of soul,
humanity and even life a model had out of her, and captured it for
posterity. Vries thought about taking a shower before Leo arrived,
but instead dropped down onto her over-stuffed love seat. She
leaned her head back against the cushion. Just one moment, then
she’d get up.

Vries awakened to her doorbell. She was
disoriented for a moment then realized she’d fallen asleep on the
chair. Jerking awake had wrenched her neck.

“Just great, as if I didn’t already have
enough aches and pains,” she muttered as she walked to the
door.

Leo leaned against the jamb, looking debonair
as usual, a bottle of wine in one hand and what looked to be a
carryout package from her favorite restaurant in the other
hand.

Vries reached out to take the package and
backed into the apartment, but not before a jaw cracking yawn
nearly split her face.

“You look done in,” Leo said, closing the
door.

“That’s because I’m done in,” Vries said as
he followed her into her small kitchen.

“That photographer is a barbarian. It’s
nearly midnight for God’s sake. I’ll tell Pasha to stop using her,”
he said.

Vries paused in mid-stride, so horrified by
the notion that she momentarily forgot her exhaustion. She turned
to Leo with a gasp. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Miralena
is the best. It’s unheard of for her to agree to work with a model
my age. I’m very fortunate that she would even consider working
with me.”

“For God’s sake stop talking about yourself
as though you’re in your dotage.”

“In modeling years I am well past my prime.
Those are the facts. I have to hold onto these gigs for as long as
I can. Turning down legends like Miralena, no matter how much of a
tyrant she is, could be the final nail in my coffin.”

Leo stood back examining her face. Vries knew
exactly what he saw. She’d scrubbed her face clean of all the heavy
makeup before she left the studio where the shoot had taken place.
Experience had taught her to get it off as quickly as possible to
avoid nasty breakouts. She was probably shiny from the lavish use
of moisturizers after the deep cleansing. This was definitely not
the face she presented to the world, but right now she was too
tired to care.

“Why don’t you take a shower while I warm
this up? It’s just soup and salad, it’ll wait.”

“That sounds good,” Vries said around another
yawn as she placed the food on the small bistro-style table in her
kitchen.

Vries padded back into the kitchen following
the delicious aromas emanating from therein. Tired though she was,
she was beginning to realize she was even hungrier.

“Have a seat,” Leo said gesturing toward her
small bistro style table. “I just finished warming it up for you.
Would you like some wine?”