Secrets After Dark

Book 0: After Dark

by Sadie Matthews

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Ours was a love bound by power...Falling in love with Dominic changed me. I relinquished myself completely and placed my heart and my trust in Dominic's hands, but in one exquisite, excruciating moment he abandoned his control. Anguished by his actions, he has locked those darkest desires inside, unable to share my conviction that it would never happen again. Now it's not only Dominic who craves that delicate, seductive game of give and take, of walking the line between pain and pleasure, abandon and release.

Persuading Dominic to let those secret parts of himself unravel will be the biggest risk I've ever taken, but I can't resist. Even if it means we fall apart...Provocative and sophisticated, exhilarating and seductive, the After Dark series is a compelling pleasure we should all indulge in...

Release date: November 8, 2012

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 385

Sample

Chapter Eight

 

Laura and I have a relaxing weekend together, mostly watching television on the sofa and making endless cups of tea as we both recover from our working weeks. I try not to spend time obsessing over my stubbornly silent phone. The only time it rings, it’s my mother wanting to hear my news. I tell her about my new job and she is impressed but glad it’s temporary. I think she prefers the sound of Mark to this new Russian stranger that’s come into my life.

I decide on Sunday night that if I haven’t heard from Dominic by the end of the week, I’m going to have to do something drastic, though I don’t quite know what. Then I try to put him out of my mind and concentrate on my new job.

I’m in the study that Monday morning, lost in my work, when Andrei comes in. Instantly I stop what I’m doing and get up.

‘No, please, carry on,’ Andrei says. ‘I want to watch you.’

Feeling a little awkward, I pick up the print I was appraising and take another look at it.

‘What do you think about that one?’ he asks.

‘It’s a very fine example,’ I reply enthusiastically. I’ve been thinking about prints all morning. ‘And made by a very famous nineteenth-century printmaker, around about 1870. The frame dates from the same time, I think, and it’s part of a set of four, all showing views of Derbyshire.’

‘Mark got me those,’ he says, scrutinising it.

‘I’m not surprised, they’re splendid.’

He nods as though satisfied. ‘And have you found anything for my bathroom yet?’

‘Not yet. I’m not quite at that stage. But I will.’

Andrei smiles. ‘I’m looking forward to whatever you discover. But in the meantime, I’d like you to do a little job for me. Something that is rather beyond Marcia’s capabilities.’

‘Oh?’

‘I’d like you to get a gift for a friend of mine. A close friend. I’d like her to have a piece of jewellery, something beautiful, and I’d like you to choose it for me.’ He shrugs lightly. ‘I do not have time for such things. Sometimes they choose for me, sometimes I have things sent to me. But as you’re here, I’d like to make use of your expertise.’

I blink at him, astonished. I’ve never seen evidence of a wife or girlfriend, and this place is very much a bachelor pad, so I’ve just assumed that Andrei is one of those men obsessed by his work and with no time for a relationship. But of course a billionaire businessman is going to have a lover. Why wouldn’t he? But how am I supposed to go about choosing whoever it is a present?

‘Will you do this?’ he asks, looking closely at me. ‘I would be very grateful.’

‘Well, yes, if you’d like me to.’ Something in me is telling me I ought to have an objection, but I can’t think what it is. After all, he’s asked me to work for him on the basis of my artistic taste. This seems to be an extension of that, in a way.

He smiles at me. ‘Good. I wish you to select two things; don’t worry about the price. Whatever appeals to you.’

‘You ought to tell me a little about who it’s for, so I have an idea of what she might like.’

He looks surprised, and then says, ‘I suppose you’re right. Very well. She is beautiful, naturally. And with an aristocratic heritage, from a cultured background. Her family managed to survive the Revolution but, of course, without their grand estate or the money from their glory days. She is rather sentimental about what they once had, though it was long before she was born.’ He laughs lightly. ‘I like that. A century ago, she would have been a countess or a duchess, and I would probably have been her footman or a groom. Now her family lives in a shabby Moscow apartment, while I fuck her in my French villa or my dacha or wherever I feel like it. She opens her legs for me, the poor boy from the slums who started with nothing. Besides the fact that she is a very fine lover, knowing that I’m enjoying a daughter of privilege adds a certain sense of victory to the proceedings.’

I stare at him, shocked. I’ve always been careful to keep a professional distance with Andrei but here he is, using this language, putting pictures in my mind. I see them now, on a bed, naked, his broad back and strong legs moving as he thrusts into his high-bred Russian beauty. She is open to him, surrendering, unable to resist his power. His expression is impassive but his blue eyes burn with intensity as he takes possession of her, satisfying his furious desires, overwhelming her as he takes his pleasure and drives her to her peak.

He’s watching my face closely. ‘Does that help?’

I nod, trying to blank the pictures from my mind. With those few words, a line has been crossed between us. I feel as though he has pulled me into an intimacy with him that I cannot retreat from.

‘Good. Show me later what you have bought. Ask Marcia for a credit card.’

 

Thirty minutes later, armed with a matt-black credit card, I’m walking under the covered walkway towards the back entrance of Albany.

This is too weird. I shake my head disbelievingly. How have I ended up doing this?

I let myself out with the card key Marcia gave me and emerge by Savile Row with its ranks of gentlemen’s tailors. Bond Street stretches away to my left and I head that way. I already know that window fronts along there glitter with astonishing gems. I’ve often wondered if there are enough wealthy people in the world to keep so many jewellers in business but there must be, as the emeralds, diamonds and rubies keep sparkling away in their multi-thousand-pound settings.

I walk past a few, looking at the red satin cushions with their treasures displayed behind the reinforced glass. They twinkle alluringly but somehow I’m not attracted to them. Then, further along, I see a different kind of place, its windows packed with antique jewels of all descriptions, from fat ropes of creamy pearls to diamond tiaras, as well as signet rings, cufflinks, ornate silver frames and more. It’s like a proverbial Aladdin’s cave, or the haul from a Spanish treasure ship. I go to the window and look more closely. Here the jewels nestle on dark blue velvet or in vintage cream-satin-lined cases. This is more the kind of thing I like.

And Andrei sent me because he likes my taste, after all...

A uniformed guard stands at the door. He opens it politely as I approach, perhaps wondering if I’m really the sort of person who will be buying much in this shop, though he doesn’t show it on his face. I go up to the nearest counter where a slightly bored-looking young man in a black tailcoat is rearranging a display of diamond rings.

‘Yes, madam?’ he says, a touch of dismissal in his voice. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Perhaps you can. I’m looking for something on behalf of Andrei Dubrovski—’

The change is rapid and remarkable. The assistant becomes instantly alert and full of eagerness to help me. ‘Oh, madam, please, this way. Let me show you to a table, I’m sure I can bring you some pieces you’ll be interested in...’

Within moments, I’m in a position of honour, assistants scurrying everywhere to bring me trays of jewels to examine, and I’m having a ball. I’m surrounded by a fortune, but the prettiest fortune I will ever see: necklaces, earrings, brooches, cameos, vintage Tiffany, Cartier, Victorian parures, delicate Regency tiaras. It’s all gorgeous.

I survey everything, holding some of the sparkling items up to the light, or against my skin to see the effect. What on earth does Andrei want me to get?

I’m deliberating over rings and earrings when one of the older assistants brings out a battered red velvet case. He places it in front of me, saying reverently, ‘Perhaps Mr Dubrovski might find this to his taste.’

The case is opened and inside is a beautiful enamelled bracelet, edged with tiny diamonds that glitter icily under the electric lights. The inside glows with burnished gold. The bracelet is clearly old but the enamel – cream and turquoise, rosy pink and dark blue – is still bright. It’s a splendid thing, and I’m instantly enraptured. ‘This is wonderful!’

‘It’s particularly valuable,’ says the older assistant gravely, ‘because it was the property of Grand Duchess Olga, the sister of Tsar Nicholas II. She managed to take it with her when she and her mother escaped the Revolution for a safe haven in Denmark. As we know, her brother and his family were not so lucky.’

I draw in a breath. This was the property of the Russian royal family, the doomed Romanovs who ruled for a thousand years before their bloody slaughter put an end to their dynasty. I have a flashback to that image of Andrei, the Moscow ruffian from the back streets, taking possession of his Russian countess. She’s gasping in pleasure. The bracelet he’s given her is now on her wrist. She’s wrapping her arms around him, pulling him deeper inside her, and the bracelet is pressed against his broad back, its diamonds leaving little imprints on his back...

‘Yes. This is it. I’ll take this.’ Something occurs to me. ‘How much is it?’

The assistant names the sum. I try not to gasp but it’s significantly more than my annual salary. I don’t think, though, that Dubrovski would blink at it. Then I remember – he wanted me to get two things. My eyes are drawn to a pair of dark ruby earrings set in white gold. There’s something about their depth and lustre than keeps me coming back to them. They’re evidently old, perhaps Victorian, and very beautiful. ‘I’ll take these too.’ I hand over the black credit card and ask them to deliver. I don’t particularly want to walk the streets of London carrying quite so much of value on me.

Mission accomplished.

 

Later, when I’m back in the study, Andrei comes in. I look up, surprised.

‘I’ve just seen the package that arrived from the jeweller.’ He stares at me and for a moment I think he’s going to bawl me out for choosing badly or spending too much. Then he says, ‘Well done. It’s what I expected from you.’

‘The bracelet has a Romanov connection,’ I say, ridiculously pleased that he approves. ‘I thought it was... appropriate.’

His eyes glitter with amusement, reminding me of some of the aquamarines I saw earlier. ‘It is exactly right.’ He turns to go. ‘By the way, there is something for you on your desk in the office.’

He’s gone before I have time to ask him what it is or who it’s from. Curious, I get up and walk through to the office. Marcia’s desk is empty. In fact, it’s tidied and arranged as though she’s gone for the day. On the opposite desk is a packet wrapped in dark green paper and tied with a green silk bow. A tiny card, monogrammed with an A, is tucked under the silk, and I take it out. It reads Thank you.

Puzzled, I pull the bow and it slips lightly apart, then lift the lid of the box. Inside is a small box and my heart beats faster as I take it out and press the tiny clasp that opens the lid. I already know what will be inside.

The ruby earrings glint up at me, dark and rich as vintage port.

Oh my goodness... I feel dizzy. I know exactly how much these cost. There’s no way I can accept them. But they’re beautiful, whispers a little voice inside my head. You love them.

I swiftly knock down the wicked little voice. Just because things are beautiful doesn’t mean you can have them. Everything Andrei owns is expensive, and lots of it is gorgeous. That doesn’t make any of it mine.

I’m glad that Marcia isn’t there to see this extremely expensive gift. I head out, looking for Andrei, the box in my hand to return to him, but there is no sign of him.

‘The boss has gone out,’ Sri tells me when I find her in the drawing room. ‘Not back till tonight.’

‘Where’s Marcia?’ I ask. Everyone seems to have vanished. It’s just Sri and me.

Sri shrugs and goes back to the dusting.

I slip the earrings into my pocket and go back to the study.

 

Laura’s eyes are like saucers when I show her the contents of the little box that evening.

‘He gave these to you?’ she says, incredulous.

I nod.

‘Uh oh.’ She looks worried. ‘No one gives a gift like this without expecting something in return, surely.’

I sigh, not knowing what to say. If it were anyone other than Andrei, I would agree. A gift of expensive jewellery is usually an unmistakeable signal. But in Andrei’s world... well, I can’t be sure. By his standards, these earrings might not seem so expensive. But I can’t really take the risk. ‘I know. I’m going to return them.’

‘Is he coming on to you?’ Laura looks less worried and more angry now. ‘Because if he’s being a scumbag boss who thinks he can take advantage of you, buy you with a few trinkets, well...’

‘That’s the thing.’ I sit back on the sofa, confused. ‘I don’t think it’s like that. Besides, he got me to buy his mistress or girlfriend or whoever a gift at the same time. So he’s clearly in a relationship. It’s a mystery.’ I look over at my friend, who is visibly fired up and protective. ‘Listen, don’t worry. I can look after myself, really. I’m going to give them back.’

Laura nods and says, ‘I think that’s the best idea. And keep your distance. If you think you’re being harassed, for goodness’ sake, you must tell Mark or someone. What does Dominic think about all this? He must be furious.’

‘He’s gone AWOL again. I’ve no idea where he is or when I’m going to see him.’

‘You should let him know that he needs to get back here right away. And you need to make sure Dubrovski knows you’re a taken woman, so he can’t get the wrong idea.’

I nod again. Laura is right, of course. The rubies glow at me from their box.

Tomorrow they go back.

 

In the morning, I’m all ready to make my speech to Andrei. I’ve been planning it in my head on my way to work. I’ve got the box in my pocket.

The bodyguard opens the door to me, so I know Andrei is there and sure enough he comes barrelling out of the dining room. ‘Ah, Beth, you’ve arrived.’

‘Andrei,’ I begin, ‘I need to talk to you about the gift you left for me. Of course I’m very touched that you—’

I stop because he is paying not a blind bit of notice but has walked off towards the office, leaving me talking to thin air. I go after him, the box in my hand.

‘Andrei, I must talk to you about the—’

‘Marcia isn’t here.’ He cuts across me as though I’m not speaking at all. ‘Her mother is ill, she’s gone to be with her. I need you to do me a favour. Can you do some research in here today and answer the phones? Of course, I wouldn’t normally ask such a thing of you, but I’ve got important calls coming through that I mustn’t miss. Someone is coming to fill Marcia’s shoes but they won’t be here till tomorrow. Can you do that for me?’

He barely waits for a reply, and I give up trying to deliver my speech, and put the jewel box back in my pocket. I’ll have to wait till later. Andrei is bending over a notepad on the desk and scribbling some names. ‘Now, here are the people I must talk to. Come and interrupt me at all costs if they call.’ He rips off the piece of paper and hands it to me. ‘Thank you, Beth, I appreciate it. Now, I’ve got some calls to make myself. I’ll be in the study, so you won’t be able to work there today anyway.’

With that, he walks out of the office, leaving me open-mouthed in his wake. It’s only when Sri comes in to ask me if I want some coffee that I glance down at the list. My hands start to tremble. The first name on it is Dominic’s.

 

After that, I’m a mess. I can’t concentrate at all. All I can do is wait for Marcia’s phone to ring, while I pretend that I’m doing research into some of the artworks. When it finally does, I jump violently, then move like lightning and scoop it up before the first ring is over.

‘Yes, hello?’ I gasp.

‘Marcia? Is that you?’ It’s a very posh woman’s voice on the other end of the line.

Disappointment floods through me. I’ve keyed myself up so much, I’ve begun to believe that when the phone rang it would definitely be Dominic. I hate the woman on the end of the line for not being him. ‘No, Marcia’s not here. I’m standing in. Who’s calling please?’ I scrabble for the piece of paper with the names on it.

‘It’s Kitty Gould. Can I speak to Andrei?’

I scan the paper. Kitty Gould’s name is not on it. ‘I’m afraid he’s tied up right now. Can I give him a message?’

‘Just tell him that I’ve emailed through all the details for the party. He’ll have them as we speak. I’m looking forward to seeing him there.’

‘The party. I understand.’

‘Thank you.’ Kitty Gould rings off.

I stare at the phone, my heart rate returning to normal.

At this rate, it’s going to be a very adrenalin-filled morning...

 

During the morning the phone has rung several times, and I’ve had to go into the study to alert Andrei that people he wants to speak to have called, but none of them is Dominic.

I feel frustrated suddenly. Why does he think he can treat me like this? Coming back into my life and then vanishing again? I thought he wanted to be with me, to be close to me, and yet he hasn’t contacted me for days. What is his game? Can he really be too busy to send a text?

At lunchtime, Andrei and I eat together in the dining room, though he spends a good deal of it on the phone, shovelling in mouthfuls between sentences or sometimes in the middle of one. When he is finally off his cell phone, I remember the call from that morning.

‘Did you get an email from a woman called Kitty Gould?’ I ask. ‘It’s about a party apparently. She says the details you need are in it.’

Andrei goes still for a moment, then his gaze fixes on me. ‘The party.’

‘That’s right. Do you know what she means?’

‘Oh yes. The party is tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ I raise my eyebrows. That seems very short notice for giving the details of an event.

He stares at me again and then says, ‘Perhaps you would like to come with me.’

‘Oh.’ He’s taken me by surprise again. Is he ever going to stop doing that? ‘Well...’

‘Let me rephrase that. I would like you to come with me. I think you would enjoy it. It will be very lavish, a sight worth seeing.’ He gives me that impassive expression. ‘You can wear the earrings.’

I blush violently. I’ve forgotten all about the rubies and now I look rude for not mentioning them. ‘I... I... thank you, Andrei, it’s amazingly generous but I can’t accept them.’

‘Why not?’ he shoots back, frowning.

‘Because they’re too much... too expensive... and, well, I hardly know you...’

He waves a dismissive hand. ‘Of course you can accept them, don’t be a fool. If you think I want them back, you’re quite wrong.’

‘You have to take them,’ I say more strongly. ‘You can give them to your mistress, I’m sure she’ll like them.’ That treacherous picture of him fucking her comes back into my mind but this time Andrei’s Russian girl has dark red jewels glinting in her ears as she throws her head back in ecstasy.

‘My mistress?’ His eyes sparkle a little dangerously. ‘How very old-fashioned you sound. I don’t want to hear another word about those earrings. Give them away yourself if you don’t want them.’ He sits back in his chair, as if to indicate that discussion about the rubies is finished. ‘Now, are you going to come to this party with me? I don’t think it’s the kind of party Mark would take you to – and you should seize the opportunities when you get them.’

I’m still reeling at the idea that he doesn’t mind if I give away thousands of pounds worth of rubies. I’ll leave them here when I go. That’s how I’ll get round it.

His phone goes and he picks it up. ‘Yes? Ah, Dominic, at last.’

My stomach does a violent somersault and the blood drains from my face – at least, I think it does. I don’t know if I’ve turned pale but that’s what it feels like. Hidden under the table, my fists clench into tight balls. Dominic is on the other end of the line! I also feel wounded – he can obviously get access to a phone when he needs it.

Andrei is listening intently to whatever Dominic is saying, and I’m tormented that I cannot make out anything or even hear the buzz of his voice. ‘I see. Yes. Will you be at the party later? Uh huh. Well, Harvey is on call with the car if you need it. And Anna?’ There’s a pause while he listens and then he laughs. I’ve never heard him laugh before: it’s a harsh, grating sound in that rough voice of his, and it sounds as though it’s not a thing he uses often. ‘Yes, she is. I expect she’ll be feeling wild tonight. She always does when we make a lot of money.’ He’s smiling down the phone. It’s always odd to see that broad mouth with the jutting lower lip stretch into a smile. ‘Good. Then I’ll see you later.’ He rings off and looks back at me, still smiling. When he sees my expression, he says, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ I say quickly. ‘Nothing at all.’ There’s a small pause and then I say as naturally as possible, ‘That was Dominic Stone? The man I met at the monastery?’

Andrei nods. ‘Ringing with some excellent news about an iron ore mine I own in Siberia. The Chinese have bought all the ore we can produce for the next two years. I’m very pleased. Dominic has been freezing his arse off there in the middle of nowhere.’ He laughs again. ‘But he’ll be well rewarded. So. Are you coming to this party?’

The idea that Dominic will be there fills me with excitement, but I try to look nonchalant. ‘You know, Andrei, you’re right, it sounds like it might be fun. I’d like to come.’

He gives another of those inscrutable looks. ‘Good. We’ll need something for you to wear. Call Harrods and ask them to send a selection of evening dresses in your size. Ask for black, I think that will suit you best. Nothing too huge, it’s not a ball. But sophisticated.’

With that, he gets up from the table and strides out of the room, leaving me staring after him. Life around Andrei Dubrovski is certainly unpredictable. But it is also exciting, and tonight is the first possible chance I’ve had to see Dominic again since Croatia.

I can’t turn that down. I have to go.

Chapter Eighteen

 

I run down Piccadilly in a panic, hardly knowing where I am or where I’m going. It feels as though for days I’ve been on a knife-edge, afraid that someone is going to bring my world crashing down around me. I thought it was going to be Dominic or Andrei – I never guessed that it would be Anna. But it all makes an awful kind of sense now.

She is Dominic’s lover. It must be true. She knows intimate, private things she can only have learned from Dominic. She knows about the rope marks. She even knew about the ring. How can that be possible unless she’s psychic? Dominic must have told her, it’s the only way. And he would only share those things with someone close and intimate...

I shiver and huge tears fill my eyes, blinding me.

And what about that terrible thing she said – hinting that she had made love to me in the cave. How could that be? It isn’t possible, surely – I know a man’s touch and taste and feel. It was definitely a man who had sex with me that night. But a horrible doubt gnaws away at me. Could I have made a mistake? Perhaps I did, considering the state I was in. No... no. Everything in me rebels at the idea. I don’t want to have had an experience like that without my consent. It’s completely and utterly wrong.

A voice in my head screams at me: But how did she know you had sex in the catacombs at all? She must have seen you. Unless it was Dominic and he told her! Or... it was Andrei and he told her!

I stop on the pavement, squeezing my eyes shut. I press my hands to my ears, wanting to block out all the internal voices chattering at me, making accusations and counter accusations, asking questions, supplying answers, making links, breaking them again. I can’t stand the noise and the babble but most of all I can’t stand the pain that’s growing inside me like a steel balloon expanding in my chest, threatening to suffocate me from within. I’m choking back tears. I want to call Dominic and yell at him, demanding an explanation, the truth at last. But I can’t. I can’t speak. I can’t think. I just want to curl in a ball and weep, and then die and leave this horrible mess behind me.

I’m losing strength in my body, my knees buckle and I think I’m going to faint. In the chilly darkness of the London street, with people rushing past me, I sob hard and manage to make my way to the side where I lean against a shop window, so despairing that I have no idea what to do next. Then a thought comes into my mind.

I pull out my phone. Somehow I manage to make it work, scrolling through my contacts until I see the one I want. I press call and a moment later, James’s familiar voice sounds in my ear.

‘Hello, darling, how lovely to hear from you! How’s life at Dubrovski’s? No more dodgy drinks, I hope!’

I try to speak but it comes out as a gasping sob. Instantly he’s concerned.

‘Are you all right, Beth?’

‘N... n... no, I’m not,’ I manage to say.

‘Where are you?’

‘By Green Park Station. Oh, James, it’s terrible!’ I can’t prevent huge sobs racking me.

‘Stay there. I’m on my way.’ He cuts the call.

I feel better knowing he’s coming, but I’m still lost in a miasma of misery, tears pouring down my face. Passers-by look curiously at the girl crying her eyes out by a car showroom window.

James is there within a quarter of an hour despite the rush-hour crowds and when I feel his arms around me, I can’t help letting go and weeping into the lapels of his overcoat.

‘There, there,’ he says gently. ‘Let’s get you inside and sort this out.’

He hails a cab and bundles us both in. I sob all the way back to his flat and James just lets me get it all out, not asking me anything but passing tissues and keeping a firm arm around me when the sobs get too much to bear.

By the time we’re going into his cosy flat, I’ve calmed down a little and am in the hiccupping and sniffing stage, with fresh falls of tears when I remember the cause of my misery. James settles me on the magenta velvet sofa among a riot of orange, teal and gold silk-and-velvet cushions, and gets me a glass of water. There’s no sign of Erlend, his partner.

‘All right – tea or a stiff gin?’ he asks when I’ve had a sip and got rid of my hiccups.

‘Stiff gin, please. And then tea,’ I add.

He goes to the drinks tray and pours two large measures of Hendrick’s into crystal glasses, adds the contents of two small cans of tonic, lemon slices and, from a miniature magenta freezer, ice cubes. He brings one to me and then folds his long thin frame into the large armchair opposite. ‘Erlend is out late tonight, we’ve got the place to ourselves. So shoot,’ he says. ‘Tell me everything.’

I explain what’s happened since I last saw him, culminating in my meeting with Anna today and her awful claim that she is Dominic’s lover and that he is simply using me as a plaything.

‘And you believe Anna over Dominic?’ James asks, one eyebrow raised. ‘After everything you two have been through?’

‘I know that sou. . .