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Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.

Postcards From… Collection - Maisey Yates


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like to see if Jess can make it to New York for our wedding.’ She tried tentatively to steer the discussion away from the subject of love. Maybe it was a safer thing to talk about. ‘Do we have a date yet?’

      He laughed softly and looked at her, almost frazzling her resolve not to feel anything for him. ‘Are you that keen to become my wife or are you just changing the subject?’

      ‘There’s nothing to be gained by waiting now we have agreed our terms.’ It might be the truth, but her voice had a tart edge to it as she tried to stem the hurt and rejection growing within her.

      He looked at her, studying her face for a few seconds, and all she could hear was the sound of the boat engine and the wash of water. The spring sunshine was warm on her face, but not as searing as his gaze. ‘Then you’ll be pleased to know it has all been arranged for this Saturday.’

      ‘Saturday?’ She whirled round to face him, not caring that she was missing the spectacular views he’d brought her here to see. Saturday was too soon. She’d never be able to organise Jess flying in from Moscow by then. Was he deliberately trying to cut her off from everything she held dear? ‘Jess will never be able to get here by Saturday—and she’s all I have, Nikolai.’

      Before he could answer, her phone rang and she snatched at the chance of avoiding his scrutiny. She’d left so many messages for Jess, it had to be her, and she needed to speak to her now more than ever. She looked at the screen, but it wasn’t her sister. It was Richard. Nikolai looked down at the screen while she thought of not answering. She didn’t need to talk to Richard of all people right at this moment, no matter how much he’d helped her get her contract with World in Photographs.

      ‘You had better answer that.’ His voice was harsh, each word clipped with anger. She looked up at him in confusion but he turned from her and walked away a few paces.

      ‘Richard,’ she said as she answered the call. ‘How lovely to hear from you.’

      * * *

      Nikolai didn’t like the way Emma smiled as she spoke to Richard or the way she’d turned her back on him to take the call. He recalled he was the photographer who’d helped her get her career off the ground, but now he was beginning to question exactly what she thought of him.

      ‘The article is out?’ Emma’s voice carried across the deck as she continued her call. ‘That’s brilliant. Thanks for calling to tell me—and, Richard, thanks for your help.’

      Nikolai clenched his jaw against the irrational anger which bubbled up just from hearing her talk to this other man. Was it really possible that he was jealous? The thought was ludicrous. To be jealous of another man he’d have to have feelings for Emma—deep feelings he just didn’t want.

      He turned to watch her as she spoke on the phone. Her long silky hair was in a ponytail down her back, but the wind kept playing with it, reminding him how it felt against his skin while she slept. For the last week, since the night they had returned from their engagement party, she had spent every night in his bed. Each of those nights of passion had claimed them in its frenzied dance; afterwards she’d always slept wrapped around him and he’d enjoyed the closeness.

      Her laughter as she responded to something Richard said only served to send his irritation levels higher and he turned from her, determined he wasn’t going to be affected by it. Their marriage was to be one of convenience for the sake of his child and all he had to do was remind himself how easily she’d been talked into the marriage once he’d used the lure of funds for her sister.

      Before Richard had called, he’d been about to tell her that he’d made arrangements for Jess to come to New York for the wedding. He’d put things in motion after the engagement party, which had been all about his family and friends, because he’d wanted her to have someone there for her. He’d also insisted that the wedding itself was limited strictly to close family, which had been a battle with his mother, but now the urge to tell her these details had gone.

      ‘That was Richard,’ she said as she joined him and he certainly couldn’t miss the smile on her face. Irritation surged deeper through him at the happiness in her voice. ‘The article is out and he said it’s really good.’

      ‘If it’s what I have already read, then I am pleased for you.’ He kept his voice neutral, not wanting a trace of any kind of emotion to be heard, especially the new and strange one he suddenly had to deal with.

      ‘Why would it be any different?’ She frowned up at him. ‘You don’t trust me, do you, Nikolai?’

      Of course he didn’t trust her and now, thanks to a moment of weakness, she knew everything. She still had the ability to shatter his mother’s happiness. That was something he wasn’t going to allow to happen at any price and precisely why he’d flown to Russia in the first place.

      ‘Is Richard a close friend of yours?’ he asked, unable to keep his curiosity under control any longer, or the anger at the way the idea of Richard and Emma being close filled him with such strong emotions.

      ‘Why do you ask?’ Her cautious question was just what he’d expected—and feared. She was hiding something; of that he was certain.

      Despite his suspicions, there was no way he was going to let her know how he felt, so he assumed an air of indifference he definitely didn’t feel. ‘I have limited the wedding guests to immediate family and close friends. I just wanted to know if he was a close friend.’

      She looked down, not able to meet his gaze, and when she looked up again disappointment and sadness were in her eyes, but he refused to be made to feel guilty. ‘He’s helped me a lot and, yes, once I hoped we could be more than friends. I’m sure there are women like that in your past.’

      He hadn’t anticipated such honesty and it threw him off balance for a moment as he realised the truth of what she’d said. ‘There was someone once, yes.’

      Why had he said that? Why had he brought his ex-fiancée into this?

      ‘Someone you loved?’ she asked cautiously.

      ‘No, someone I couldn’t love, someone who needed that from me and I couldn’t give it to her—or maybe it was because I didn’t want to give it. Either way, the engagement ended.’

      ‘You were engaged?’ Her brows lifted in surprise and he regretted saying anything, but then maybe it would back up all he’d already told her, convince her that love was not something he could do.

      ‘I was, yes.’ He didn’t want to have this conversation with her. It was something he never spoke of.

      She clutched at her hair and looked away from him, as if she sensed his reluctance to talk. ‘I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. Thanks for this.’

      Shocked by her change of subject, he looked up, and sure enough they were close to the statue as it reached up into the spring sky. He’d been so absorbed in her and the way he was thinking about her, feeling about her, that he hadn’t even registered they’d got this far.

      Emma turned and looked at him, her expression serious. What was it about this woman that muddled his senses so much? Every time he was with her he lost all clarity on what it was he wanted from her and from life.

      ‘I don’t expect love from you, Nikolai.’ Her voice was as clear as a mountain stream but it didn’t settle the unease he felt.

      ‘What do you expect?’

      ‘Nothing, Nikolai. You’ve made that perfectly clear from the very beginning. Our marriage is purely for the baby’s sake.’ She laid her hand lightly on his arm and, just as he had done before, he pulled back from her touch, not wanting such intimacy.

      ‘We each have things to gain from the marriage, Emma.’

      Emma looked at Nikolai and her heart began to break. She knew the whole thing was a deal, that their marriage was nothing more than a convenience, but always there had been a spark of hope fuelled by the heady passion they’d shared.


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