LITMIR.BIZ

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when Cyrus had already earned her trust. Incomprehension assailed her because Nikolai was by no means slow on the uptake. The two men disliked each other; she had got that message loud and clear from both of them. The difference between them was in her reaction. Cyrus’s behaviour had confused and troubled her but, inexplicably, Nikolai’s reaction tore her up inside. And she didn’t know why. She had no more idea why when she looked at his lean, darkly handsome features and sensed vulnerability, because from the outside Nikolai didn’t have a vulnerable bone in his big, powerful body.

      Max knocked at the door and offered supper. Both of them declined and the pitter-patter of running paws on the tiled hall floor announced the entry of the dogs. Rory hurled herself joyfully against Nikolai’s legs while Butch bounced around Ella, stayed just long enough to get a pat and then went to join Rory.

      ‘I was surprised you had a pet,’ Ella admitted abstractedly.

      Nikolai glanced at her and straightened from greeting the shaggy little mongrel at his feet. ‘I can’t take the applause for that. Rory belonged to my sister. She called her Princess Aurora...my sister had a love of all things fairy tale,’ he murmured stiffly, his lean, strong face shadowing. ‘After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to part with her dog, so I kept her.’

      ‘I didn’t know you’d lost someone,’ she muttered as the dogs raced out again in pursuit of Max.

      ‘Most of us have by the time we reach our third decade.’

      ‘Doesn’t make coping with it any easier,’ Ella remarked.

      A phone rang and Nikolai dug a cell out of his pocket and answered it. As soon as he did she saw his face change, paling and clenching hard. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

      ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

      ‘There’s been a fire...at my hotel. I need to get over there.’

      ‘My goodness...is there anything I can do to help?’ Ella exclaimed.

      ‘No, just go to bed. I’ll see you later...most probably tomorrow.’

      After his sudden departure, Ella walked out to the cosy room off the kitchen where Max was watching television with the dogs at his feet. He stood up. ‘Did you change your mind about supper?’

      ‘No. I didn’t.’ Ella told him about the fire. ‘I didn’t know Nikolai owned a hotel.’

      ‘The Grand Illusion. He worked in the bar there when he was a student,’ Max told her. ‘It was also his first big business project. He bought it and turned it into one of the most sought-after boutique hotels in Europe. I hope it’s not too badly damaged. He’s very attached to the place.’

      * * *

      Ella slid into the big white bed upstairs. The sheets were cool and silky against her skin. She was alone, reflecting wryly that she had not expected to be alone in bed tonight. She was too tired to agonise over the long eventful day but her body quickened and heated when she remembered Nikolai’s mouth on hers in the limo and what he had whispered. There was nothing wrong with wanting him, she told herself drowsily. He was extraordinarily sexy and her response was simply natural and normal. Why did she feel guilty about what couldn’t be helped? After all, no power on earth could bring back Paul or the future life she had once dreamt of sharing with him. Less troubled than she had been earlier, she finally slept.

      When she wakened it was almost nine and she was very hungry. She discovered that Max had unpacked her clothes into one of the built-in closets off the passageway that led into the en suite and she picked out jeans and a long-sleeved tee before she went for a shower. Nikolai had not returned during the night. Either he had slept elsewhere or he was still dealing with the aftermath of the fire. While she applied a little make-up, her nose wrinkling at that newly acquired vanity, she was still thinking about that passionate kiss in the limousine and questioning how one kiss could possibly be that special.

      As she emerged from the bathroom the bedroom door opened and Nikolai appeared. He looked exhausted and he brought with him the acrid smell of smoke. He stared at her with red-rimmed eyes and for a split second it was as though he didn’t know who she was or what she was doing there.

      ‘How was it?’ she asked uncertainly.

      Momentarily he closed his eyes and a faint shudder racked his lean, strong frame. ‘Horrible...’ he finally rasped, kicking back his shoulders to shrug off his jacket. ‘I stink of smoke. I need a shower.’

      ‘Was anyone hurt?’ she pressed.

      Halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, he looked at her, dark deep-set eyes semi-closed with no lightening flare of gold. ‘Yes. I was at the hospital before I came back. Three of my staff are injured. One has...’ his voice roughened ‘...life-changing injuries.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Nikolai. You knew him personally?’ she prompted sickly.

      As the shirt fell to the floor he nodded in silence. ‘I worked with the kitchen and bar staff as a student. The fire started behind the hotel. There was an explosion. Two assistant chefs were hurt. The bar manager has severe burns and he’s facing years of surgery,’ he completed gruffly.

      ‘I’m so very sorry,’ she said again, because she could see by the fierce tightness of his facial muscles that it had all been almost more than he could bear. He was literally fighting to stay in control and, shamefully, the tears glimmering in his dark eyes fascinated her.

      ‘It could’ve been worse,’ he said as if he was reminding himself of that reality in an effort to stave off too much negativity. ‘The guests all got out in time. The hotel’s wrecked but bricks and mortar can be rebuilt. It’s lives that can’t.’

      He toed off his shoes, yanked off his socks and peeled off his trousers in his determined path to the shower. She could see that he wasn’t even conscious that he was stripping naked in front of her. The lithe bronzed perfection of his lean, powerful body was revealed and she strove to respect his lack of awareness by not staring. He was drained and devastated and in a state she had never expected to see him in.

      ‘Can I get you anything?’

      ‘Max met me on the way in. He’s bringing up breakfast...not sure I’ll be able to eat,’ he mumbled thickly.

      Ella became braver. She moved into the bathroom doorway. ‘It’s not your fault this happened, Nikolai.’

      ‘It’s someone’s fault!’ he ground out rawly. ‘The police suspect arson. An accelerant was used. Plastic bins shoved up against the oil tanks caused the explosion. It was no accident.’

      ‘Oh, my word,’ she whispered, moving back to the bedroom.

      Max brought a covered tray and told her that he had included her in the food order. Butch pranced round her feet with Rory, both of them wanting to stay, but she asked Max to take the dogs back downstairs.

      ‘He’s shattered. He needs to rest,’ Max agreed. ‘Sleep makes everything look less dire.’

      Nikolai reappeared, a towel wrapped round his narrow waist, damp black hair flopping untidily over his brow. Ella poured coffee and thrust a knife and fork at him as he sank down in one of the chairs by the table at the window.

      ‘Eat,’ she urged. ‘You need fuel for energy.’

      His wide, sensual mouth quirked as he met anxious green eyes. She was all warmth and softness but her sympathy unnerved him. He had learned to get by without leaning on anyone and it had protected him over and over again from making dangerous mistakes. If he didn’t give his trust, it couldn’t be broken. If he didn’t open up to other people, he couldn’t get hurt. Well, OK, he was hurting now, but that couldn’t be helped because that was the kind of damage that life threw at everybody. Only this time, someone had personally choreographed that damage, he reminded himself grimly. Who hated him enough to target a packed hotel with an arson attack? Nikolai knew how fortunate it was that so many people had escaped the fire unscathed.

      He drank

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