The Cost Of The Forbidden. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
He always had and he always would.
In Russia it was Mother’s Day at the end of November.
At school, the ‘home kids’, as he and his friends had called the students who’d had families, would sit and make cards for their mothers as the ‘detsky dom’ kids stuck rice onto paper for, well, no one in particular.
There had been four at his table, they had been together since nursery school.
Sevastyan had always been the nerdy one, Nikolai had liked ships and then there had been the twins, Roman and Daniil, who were going to be famous boxers one day.
Some day.
Never.
‘If you don’t have a mother then make a card for someone you care about,’ the teacher had suggested each year.
The ‘detsky dom’ kids’ cards had never got made.
A few years back Sevastyan had found out that he did have a mother, but he now knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated a card with stuck-on rice anyway.
He’d send flowers, of course, but rather than rely on Naomi he would try to work out himself what to put in the note.
Each year it became harder to work out what to write.
Thanks for being there?
She hadn’t been.
With love to you on this special day?
It wasn’t a special day to her.
And there was no love.
November also meant that it was his niece’s birthday.
Her eighteenth! Sev suddenly remembered.
He’d stop at Tiffany on the way to the office Sev thought, then decided not to bother.
Whatever he sent would just end up being pawned or put up on some auction site.
Yes, for so many reasons he hated November.
Sev closed his eyes but he still could not sleep.
He stared into the dark and could remember as if it were yesterday, rather than half a lifetime ago, hearing his friend quietly crying in the night.
These had been boys who had stopped crying from the cradle and so Sev had not known whether his friend would appreciate that he knew that he was.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sev had asked. ‘Nikolai, what has happened?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t sound like nothing.’
‘Leave it.’
He had.
To Sev’s utter, utter regret, he had.
In the morning Nikolai had been gone.
A week later his body had washed up and Sergio had come back with his bag, in it a ship Nikolai had been making out of matches.
Sev lay there and thought of his friend and his sad end.
And the thought of the others he still missed to this day.
On the twelfth of November, the day Nikolai had run away, Sev would be in London for yet another futile attempt to meet with his past.
He might give it a miss, Sev thought, but he was as superstitious as he was Russian.
If he didn’t go, of course it would be the one year that Daniil showed up.
SHEIKH ALLEM WAS extremely gracious about the change in plans.
In fact, when Naomi had called him at nine he hadn’t seemed in the least surprised. He’d told Naomi that he would come to the office at four but in the meantime, would she mind taking Jamal shopping?
‘Of course.’
Naomi had dressed in a navy shift dress and flat ballet pumps and she headed up to Sev’s apartment to check if the gift he had bought for Allem was there.
His apartment took up the entire floor.
She was often in there, packing his case, doing little jobs, showing through a designer because he’d decided he had changed his mind about a wall or a light or whatever it was that he might suddenly decide that he wanted changed. She basically took care of many details of Sev’s life so that he didn’t have to.
His maid was in there, changing the flowers and making sure everything was perfect for his return.
Naomi said hi and went through to Sev’s study.
There was no polished wooden box that she could see in any of the drawers.
She looked on top of the desk.
There was no box there either, just a rather scruffy little ship.
It was odd, Naomi thought, picking it up and examining it. It was old and poorly put together, unlike anything else in the apartment.
She put it down again and then headed into his bedroom, deciding to take the opportunity to take a couple of fresh shirts to the office.
His bedroom was her favourite room.
Not because of him.
Well, maybe.
But it kind of fascinated Naomi.
The mahogany door she opened didn’t close as the same thing.
Bored with the trimmings, he had made a few alterations to a heritage building and the other side of the door was ebony.
As were the rest of the trimmings.
Another maid was in there, changing the bedding on his big black wooden bed.
It was beautiful.
The view was amazing and the curtains were black on ivory with a dash of pistachio-green—the only dart of colour in the entire room, apart from the view.
Because it was the beginning of the month, Naomi took out her tablet and made a quick inventory.
He had one woman who shopped for his clothing, who Naomi liaised with. He had another who dealt with food and beverages.
His PA dealt with personal items.
She went to his dressing table and saw the cologne she had ordered last month from Paris. The container was still half-full but she made a note and then, joy, went to his bedside table and made another note of items that needed to be replenished!
She would not miss this part of her job in the least. In fact, she was so annoyed that she forgot to go through to the bathroom and instead took the shirts and headed into work.
Sure enough, in the bureau in his office was a gleaming wooden box and Naomi had a peek inside and frowned.
He’d bought it in Mali, she remembered.
And she’d wondered why at the time.
It was a fertility statue.
Naomi considered whether she should call Sev and tell him that this might not be the best gift to give the sheikh but what the hell, it was his faux pas and she was still cross with him and not in the mood for another little chat with a naked Sev.
Naomi wrapped the gift and decided that Sev could give it to him and deal with the consequences and she placed it back in the bureau. She then went to meet Jamal and spent a few hours shopping and chatting before Naomi saw her back to her hotel. She got a call from Sev’s driver to say that his plane had landed but she came back to an office still devoid of Sev.
Damn.
Allem would be here soon.
She felt terrible, lying for Sev.