Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
TITUS
I t’s all over the news and I’m glad I briefed my family on this before Tatiana was informed herself because the constant deluge from the press is hard to deal with.
Suzannah does what she can and spends the day fielding calls from well-wishers, accepting flowers, gifts and cards and invitations to open buildings, interviews on the television and parties to people we have never met.
It’s unleashed a storm on the house of Romanov and I am weary of it after just one hour.
I note the electronic diary filling up and sigh inside. It appears that my work will suffer because we are required to attend various functions, charity events and meetings. It’s resembling an unofficial royal tour, and I wonder what Tia will think of this.
She is working today at the Bolshoi. My men are shadowing her, and she doesn’t even realize it. I am taking no chances with her safety because there is something sinister edging those bouquets, and I won’t rest until I discover who is sending them.
I spend the day ignoring anything to do with Tatiana and concentrate on my work instead. It’s important not to lose sight of what matters the most to me and by eight o’clock I am ready to call it for the night. Tatiana is dancing, and it’s probably a good thing to allow her a few days to adjust to the circumstances because I’m under no illusions at all that her life is about to change immeasurably.
It doesn’t even occur to me that I’m ruining her life. I realize she has worked hard to get where she is today, but I keep the bigger picture in mind. She has been offered as my way in and I seized it quickly because as Trojan horses go she is an extremely desirable one.
As I head to the dining room in my penthouse, I note the text flash up on my phone. It’s a reminder of something or someone I’m meant to be doing now.
Fuck!
I completely forgot that I was entertaining tonight and Clarissa Smirnov is not the kind to take no for an answer. I’m not even sure why I agreed to another date with the woman. She was a good fuck but hideous company and will be making her way here already.
As the daughter of one of the Big Five, I must tread carefully because our families do a lot of business together, and that mustn’t suffer.
I head to the shower and change into my preferred black top and chinos and head to the dining room to wait.
At exactly eight thirty, I receive a call from security that she has arrived and say gruffly, “Send her up.”
I pour a glass of vodka as I wait, anticipating the usual shit as she slides into my life with a painted on smile and an open invitation between her legs. Despite what my companions want it’s only ever about the sex with me because my mental needs are catered for in business.
I’m not interested in finding ‘the one.’ My brothers appear to take comfort in that, but not me. It is a distraction I don’t need and would prefer never happened because I don’t have time to consider anyone else, not in the position I’m in.
I’m cold, mercenary and unemotional and I like it that way. There is nobody to consider, upset or anger. Casual dates suit me just fine, but even that has changed in the name of business—for now.
“Titus.”
As soon as the elevator door opens, she heads my way with a seductive smile as she wiggles toward me in black heels and the shortest skirt I have ever seen on a supposedly respectable person.
A whore, most definitely, but not somebody who was brought up to be a lady and rather than excite me, it horrifies me.
“Clarissa.”
She approaches and kisses me three times on the cheek and I step away quickly because she went heavy on the perfume tonight.
“Champagne?” I nod toward the bottle resting in the ice bucket and she purrs, “Of course, darling, is there any other drink?”
I say nothing and pour some into the crystal flute and she smiles as I hand it to her, her lashes sweeping her cheeks and a provocative gleam in her eye.
“I was surprised you didn’t cancel?”
“So am I.”
I point to the seat opposite mine at the table and hold out the chair, more from courtesy than chivalry.
She pouts in my direction and I note her skirt rise even higher, her legs long and shapely that would ordinarily be wrapped around my neck later. But not tonight. Never again, actually, because as soon as Clarissa walked into my penthouse, I wanted her to turn around and leave.
She is nothing like Tatiana. It hit me as soon as I saw her. For a woman who was brought up to be a lady, she is more like a peasant than the woman who graced my arm last night. She dazzled beside me and exuded more class than Clarissa has in her well-manicured little finger, and I’m angry with myself for allowing this to happen at all.
Even more surprising is the sudden need for Tatiana to be the one opposite me now.
I shrug off the thought and head to my seat opposite and buzz for my chef to bring the first course.
“So, Tatiana Pavlov.” She wastes no time and I note the irritation in her eyes as she raises her glass. “I believe congratulations are in order.”
“They are.”
I raise my glass of vodka and she shakes her head. “What’s going on, Titus? You’re engaged, and yet here we are.”
“I forgot you were coming and thought it rude to cancel when you were already here.”
I’m honest with her, and she winces. “Ouch, that hurts.”
I say nothing and she sighs. “So, tonight is just dinner.”
“Of course. I am engaged to another woman, and I’m an honorable man.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She giggles and I bite down the urgent order to ask her to leave.
“Not happening, Clarissa, but–” I offer her a tight smile.
“But, what?” She leans forward, her cleavage on full display tonight, and I say coolly, “There is no reason why we can’t be friends.”
“Friends.” Her eyes cloud with disappointment.
“Why?”
I shrug. “Because our families are connected. We do business, socialize in the same circles, and Tatiana will need a friend.”
“You want me to be her friend?” Her eyes widen and she falls silent when Luigi, my chef, enters with the first course.
He serves us cured salmon with prawns, pickled salad and dill lime crème fraiche, and retreats after explaining what we are about to enjoy.
As the door closes, she lifts her fork and says thoughtfully, “What’s in it for me?”
I must hand it to Clarissa. She knows how to play the game and has realized our relationship has changed and already moved onto what’s in it for her. I ignore her question.
“Befriend her. Take her shopping, do what women do. The fuck I know.”
I spear some food onto my fork and note her mind is working overtime as she chews on her food with a dark gleam in her eye.
“Is that it?” She asks as she finishes her mouthful and I nod.
“Tatiana is not from our world and doesn’t understand how it works. Educate her. Open up society to include her and make certain she is comfortable in it.”
There is method in my madness because Clarissa Smirnov is the queen of society and her acceptance and seal of approval is to ensure an easy ride for Tatiana.
“I repeat, what’s in it for me, Titus?”
“Name your price.”
It’s interesting how a date can turn into a business meeting on the turn of a decision, and Clarissa, as expected, has read the situation perfectly. If anything, I respect that about her because it could have gone the other way. She may have been angry, insulted even and stormed out of here with vengeance on her mind. However, Clarissa isn’t the queen of society for nothing and has always had an eye for a golden opportunity.
“My price?” She takes another mouthful and chews thoughtfully. Staring at nothing in particular as she considers her response. I watch and eat, knowing she will expect a great deal in return, and when she finishes, she shrugs. “I have money, I have respectability and I have the world at my feet already.”
She’s not wrong there and I wonder what she will ask for. That interests me more than anything right now because when you name your price, it reveals how much you value yourself when you respond.
“A favor.” She says simply.
“That depends what it is and if it’s within my capabilities.”
I’m honest with my answer because I will not promise her something I can’t deliver and, like every negotiation, it must be in my family’s best interests.
“I accept that.” She lifts her champagne glass and smiles. “One day, Titus, I may need to call on you. It may be next week, tomorrow even, or in the future. We both understand how this country works and I am not about to make an enemy of a man who is very important in that world. So yes, I will help you because if I can’t have you intimately, then I would prefer to keep you as a friend rather than an enemy.”
She cocks her head to one side and waits for my answer, and it impresses me. She impresses me because as decisions go, she has made the perfect one for both of us, so I raise my glass and offer her a rare smile.
“I accept your terms, Clarissa. Friends.”
She sighs. “Tatiana is a lucky girl. Why am I wishing it was friends with benefits right now?”
I laugh, despite my surly mood and as we touch glasses, I’m satisfied that the evening couldn’t have gone better if I had planned it.