Postcards From New York. Stefanie London

it up. With deliberate slowness he slipped the ring onto her finger and she was amazed to see it was a perfect fit, as if it had been made for her. ‘In that case, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

      It was the last thing she’d expected him to do after having all but put a deal to her and she stumbled over her words, aware of the store staff watching the exchange. Was this all for their benefit or his? She looked at him, wondering if she’d be able to speak, but finally the words came out in a soft whisper. ‘Yes, Nikolai, I will.’

      He kept hold of her hand for far too long and she watched as he looked down at the square emerald now sat neatly on her finger. Would he keep his side of this strange bargain? Would he provide the funds for Jess to continue on her chosen course in life and, more importantly, be there for his child?

      If he doesn’t you only have to walk away; you have nothing to lose by agreeing.

      As that rebellious thought rocked through her he stepped closer and lowered his head; she knew, with every nerve in her body, that he was going to kiss her. Right there in the store.

      When his lips met hers fire shot through her and her knees weakened and, as her eyes fluttered closed, she forced them open again. He moved slightly and she could see his lips lifting into a smile that was full of self-satisfaction. Then he spoke so softly only she could hear. ‘A very sensible answer.’

      * * *

      Nikolai opened the door of the car he’d ordered while he’d completed his purchase for the engagement ring—an item he’d never envisaged buying again. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t turn his back on his child. This was his chance to prove to himself he was a better man than his father. His child had not been conceived in the underhand way he himself had been, so didn’t that already make him a better man? But it wasn’t enough. He needed to prove to himself he was not like his father.

      He watched as Emma slid into the back of the car, looking weary, and a pang of guilt briefly touched him. He had nothing to feel guilty about, he reassured himself. Emma was here to secure her and her child’s future and, now that he’d also added her sister’s into the bargain, she had everything she’d come for—and more.

      She would become his fiancée and, as soon as possible, his wife. He wanted this particular deal sealed long before news of their baby broke. He wanted his mother to think he’d found love and happiness. It was all she’d ever wanted for him and now, due to one night when he’d been less than in control, he was able to give her that.

      ‘Where are you staying?’ he demanded as he joined her in the back of the car.

      ‘A hotel on West Forty-Seventh Street,’ she said without looking at him, provoking that twinge of guilt once more as he gave the driver instructions.

      ‘This is the right thing to do,’ he said as he took her hand from where it lay in her lap. She turned to look at him, her sable hair moving invitingly, reminding him of how soft it had been between his fingers.

      ‘What if you meet someone you really want to marry?’ The doubt laced in her voice did little to soften the emotions running through him. As far as he was concerned, that would never be an issue. The example of married life his father had set him was one which had stayed with him long after his mother had found happiness. He might have seen her marry for love when he was almost twelve years old but inside he knew he had his father’s genes. The way to avoid testing that theory had been to avoid any kind of emotional commitment. By the time he’d become a successful businessman in his own right, he’d also become cold and cynical and knew he would never think of marrying—at least, not for love.

      ‘That won’t be an issue. I could, of course, ask the same of you.’

      ‘Oh, I always dreamed of the fairy-tale wedding. You know—big white dress, flower girls and bridesmaids, fancy location and a honeymoon in a tropical paradise.’ At first he was taken aback by her soft, wistful voice, but the hard glint in those green eyes warned him it was just a cover-up. He knew all about hiding emotions, only he was better at it than she was; but he’d play the game her way. For now, at least.

      ‘And now?’

      ‘Now?’ She pulled her hand free of his and glared up at him, defiance adding to the sparks in her eyes. ‘Now I know better.’

      ‘So you won’t be looking for love and happy-ever-afters?’

      ‘Never.’ That one word was said with so much conviction he didn’t doubt it for one minute.

      ‘Then we agree on that too. You see, already we have a good base for our marriage. A child who needs us both and an obvious dislike of anything remotely romantic.’

      She looked at him, questions racing across her beautiful face, and all he wanted to do was taste her lips once more. The memory of that kiss in the snow had lingered in his mind for the best part of two months, just as the hours spent making her truly his had filled his dreams night after night. It had been those memories which had made kissing her in the store impossible to resist, that and the smouldering anger, defused by an undeniable attraction in her alluring eyes.

      ‘We’re here,’ she said quickly, the relief in her voice more than evident.

      ‘I’ll come with you whilst you check out,’ he said as he got out of the car into the bustle of New York’s streets.

      ‘I’m not checking out,’ she said sternly as she joined him, defiantly glaring up at him.

      ‘We are now engaged—you will not stay here alone; besides, we have a party to plan.’ Did she really expect him to leave her here after the news she’d given him today? He wasn’t going to give her any opportunity to run out on him again, which he suspected was exactly what she wanted to do.

      ‘What party?’ The shock in her voice angered him more than he was comfortable with. It seemed everything today was out of his comfort zone.

      ‘Our engagement party. I’ll call the planner as soon as we get back to my apartment. I think the weekend would be best.’ Before she could say anything, he took her arm and propelled her into the sleek interior of the hotel. ‘But first you need to collect your luggage and check out.’

      * * *

      Emma couldn’t believe how things were going. She’d had no idea what to expect when she’d made the journey to New York, but it wasn’t this. She walked across the spacious apartment which gave stunning views over Central Park and that feeling of disbelief that he’d insisted she check out of the hotel intensified. ‘There was no need for me to leave the hotel.’

      ‘There is every need, Emma. Apart from the engagement party, which is scheduled for the weekend, I want you to rest.’ The authority in his voice was unmistakable. She wanted to rebel against it but, just as she had done when she and Jess had moved from one foster family to another, she held it back. It was a skill she’d become adept at over the years.

      Nikolai strode across the polished wooden floor to stand looking out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows and seeing his solitary figure reminded her of the photo she’d taken at his family home. He’d looked desolate and alone then. Now the firm set of his shoulders warned her he was far from desolate and very much in control of the situation and his emotions.

      She wished she had her camera in her hands right now but instead walked softly across the floor to join him, her footsteps light. Just remembering him like that had calmed her emotions, made her want to find again the companionship they had experienced in Vladimir before they’d spent the night together. Maybe, if they could find that, then this marriage she was about to make had a chance of success.

      She was fully aware the attraction was still there, the chemistry that sparked to life from just a single touch. His kiss as they were buying the ring had proved that, but if they were to make this work they needed to be friends; they needed to be able to hold a simple conversation without being on guard.

      ‘That’s quite a view,’ she said as she stood next to him, hoping to make light conversation about something neutral.