Chapter 14
Kate packed her case and knew she was making the right decision.
She loved him, which was why she had to leave.
Somehow, he had freed her. Somehow, she could now make her own choices and sleeping with a man who had paid for her, however amazing he might be, was something that she’d never be comfortable with.
There was a surprising calm that descended upon her then. Her family would just have to take care of themselves—in the ten years since her father’s death, they’d eroded his legacy.
Kate hadn’t.
She left the ring in the safe, the earrings though she was keeping. Ivor had gifted them to her, and she’d bloody well wear them in court if Isaak sued her.
The Last English Virgin she would remain.
She pulled out her laptop and looked up the morning after pill—even if she was overreacting she was getting it, but she saw that she had enough time to wait and do that in England. Instead of closing the computer, Kate decided to send him all the files she had now. She would simply get it over with and then fly back to London in the morning.
She pulled up the images of the paintings she and Ivor had discovered in Russia and attached them, making little notes as she went, listing all the possibilities she had considered, giving Isaak the leads she would have followed.
Yes, she was right to step away from this. Kate knew because every image, every letter, every moment spent with Isaak, he crept further into her heart.
It took hours.
Kate glanced at the time and saw that it was five, and she gave a bitter smile. Clearly Isaak was having a good time.
She attached the letters from Isaak’s babushka to Ivor and as she flicked through the files, Kate actually froze, enlarging a letter that was written in Russian and zooming in on an image.
Surely not?
She headed to a large dresser and took the stationary out, and yes, it was the hotel crest that was on the paper.
The door opened and in walked Isaak, looking possibly a little the worse for wear, but carrying flowers.
He saw the suitcase by the door and Kate’s pale features.
“I know it’s a bit late in our relationship to give you flowers,” Isaak said. “I should have done that before.”
She looked at the roses, and swallowed; she did not want to be romanced, did not want to fall further in love with him. “Eleven?” Kate said. He couldn’t even get that right. “It’s supposed to be a dozen.”
“No,” Isaak said because this was all with thought. “In Russia you have an odd number of flowers for a happy occasion, and you consider thirteen bad luck.”
“I’ve found something,” Kate interrupted. “Something that you need to see.”
“In a moment.”
“No, now.” She held up the blank piece of hotel paper and Isaak frowned. “There’s a letter on my computer. Ivor said it held nothing of interest, but it’s got the same crest on it. I don’t think he was telling me the truth.”
“Let me see,” Isaak said and he put the flowers down. Kate had a flurry in her stomach, but it was a familiar one now, the one you got when the history gods aligned and offered you a teasing clue, and Isaak felt it too because the flowers were forgotten; everything was as he stared at their newest clue in confusion.
“It is the hotel crest.” He gasped. “And it’s my uncle’s writing.”
“What does it say?”
Annika, I have given you the weekend I have dreamed of, I have never been more happy with the woman I love and my children by my bedside here in the city of love…
“Annika is my mother’s name.” Isaak’s voice cracked. He looked around the room that had somehow, from the moment he had stepped inside, felt familiar.
“That crib!” Isaak said. “I can remember Roman in it over there.” He pointed to the French windows and then screwed his eyes closed as bleary images danced like clouds before his eyes and then slowly merged into an image. “We were all here, together. Ivor, my mother, Roman, and I.”
He went back to the letter.
Yet still, after all he has done, you insist on going back to him when he comes out of prison.
Annika, you leave me powerless. I will take this secret to my grave as I have promised you but even if I cannot reveal that I am their father, I tell you this much, when they are older, I shall take care of my sons.
“Ivor was our father.” Isaak sat staring at the letter, looking at the date. “I would have been nearly two. He must have brought her here to try and persuade her to leave. I remember Roman in his cot. I can remember walking to the basilica and my legs were tired, so we took a bus up the hill.”
“You had seen that view then.”
“Yes,” Isaak said. “We had chocolate crepes on the stairs, and I remember my mother looking happy.”
“And he did take care of his sons,” Kate said, tears filling her eyes as she remembered her lovely friend. “Did you ever suspect that Ivor was your father?”
“Never,” Isaak shook his head. “Not for a moment. I can remember, one time in Russia, my uncle and mother were in the kitchen, and he was pleading with her to get away. I was a teenager and even then, I just thought he was speaking as an uncle. I wished my mother would take Ivor’s advice though I also knew she would never have left my father.”
Isaak turned and looked at Kate. “The shame of an affair with her husband’s brother would have been hard enough to bear for her, but the thought of people, the church finding out… it would have been the same for my babushka.”
“It’s sad.”
“It is,” Isaak said, “but at least they did know love. That helps.”
Kate nodded.
“It would seem I come from a long line of adulteresses rather than abusers,” Isaak said, starting to take it all in. “Now I have more reasons than ever to find out who my babushka’s lover was—you might be married to someone and—”
“I wish you luck,” Kate broke in.
“Kate, stay…”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been?”
“It’s no longer my business, I ended it last night.”
“I’ve been walking and thinking—”
“Isaak,” Kate interrupted, “I don’t need to know. I’m not doing this anymore.” She wasn’t scared of her feelings anymore, in fact she could admit them now. “Thank you for the flowers but I don’t want false romance, I don’t want a wonderful year, and I don’t want to fall further in love with you than I already am.”
“Oh you will,” Isaak said assuredly. “You’re going to fall so deeply in love with me that you’ll look back and laugh that you ever considered it possible to leave.”
Kate started to cry because that was exactly what she was terrified of, falling deeper and deeper into this man, and then she frowned as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch and tipped a ring into her hand.
Kate stared at the emerald-cut diamond.
One stone that was so magnificently set and so divine she assumed he’d found another piece of history for if it were for her, shouldn’t he be slipping it on her finger? Then she chided herself because a diamond of this magnificence could never, truly belong to her.
But then he spoke. “I’m going to tell you this diamond’s history—it came from a Russian mine and for years, the best way to cut it was discussed. It was purchased by the jeweller whom I have been discussing my past with, and he told me that it took him another two years to decide on the best setting. It is his finest piece—he takes it to work each day and brings it to his home at night. He showed it to me the other day when I took the jewels in, and I have just met him on the steps of the basilica. That is its history, nothing sordid, no affairs, no secrets—every step of the way the people who have dealt with this stone have wanted the best for it, as I want to do my best for you.”
Kate looked from the jewel in her palm to the dark sapphire of his eyes as he said what she so badly needed to hear. “I love you. I didn’t want to, and I never really expected to, but I think I have loved you from the start. I think I loved you the day I met you, even if I didn’t know it at the time. There is not another person on this earth I would even consider being bound to for a year, yet I had no hesitation with you. You make me happy,” Isaak said. “I was a miserable, cynical bastard, and I have been all my life, but I’m not now.”
She thought of all the photos she had seen of him—always scowling, surly, and cross which was nothing like the man she knew, and although she was sure sex would not be an issue, she was suddenly scared to let him down, “What if I can’t…”
“We’ll work it out, but I believe it would be impossible for you to give yourself to me, to trust in me, to believe in me, with a contract that states the date of our divorce.”
“But what if I can’t?” Kate asked again.
“This isn’t about sex,” Isaak said. “Our marriage is about love, and any problems we have, from now on we work on them together.”
He didn’t need to prise her finger out from her palm this time when he slipped the ring on.
“Anyway, maybe I’m nervous about it too.” Isaak’s smile told her he wasn’t in the least. “I’ve never had a virgin, so in a way it’s both our first time.”
“That’s such a distortion of facts.” Kate started to giggle and then looked at a man who made her laugh, who made her cry—who made her a million things.
“I’m not even on the pill…” She shared her guilty truth. “Last night was beyond foolish, what if—”
“You’ll be The Pregnant Virgin.” Isaak just smiled and took her in his arms, and his kiss chased away all her fears. A deep, loving kiss where Kate didn’t need to hold back. Her hand moved to his head and her body pressed into his, loving the lean strength of him as his hands roamed her bottom and he pulled her in, but surprisingly it was Isaak that halted the kiss. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you pregnant by more traditional means, sometime soon, I am sure, but only when the time is right, and to show you this isn’t just about sex—” Isaak smiled and looked into her eyes and shamelessly lied because, no way was Kate leaving Paris a virgin, “—I really need to sleep.”
He stripped off shamelessly as they chatted while Kate wished he would get back to kissing her, more than a little turned on and confused because Isaak was going on about her family when she’d rather be pushed onto the bed.
“I’ll sort out your family,” Isaak said. “I’ll offer them my services to get them back into the black without a handout.”
“Oh, I doubt even you could,” Kate said and then paused. “Actually, I don’t.”
“Do you want to have another wedding service,” Isaak asked climbing into the bed but Kate shook her head.
“No,” she admitted, for it had possibly been the same for her, she had loved him even then. She frowned as Isaak closed his eyes.
Shouldn’t he be adoring her right now?
“I’m going to have a bath.”
“Enjoy.” Isaak yawned, “Ring down for someone…”
“I’ll be fine.”
He watched her flounce off and Isaak smiled.
No way was she leaving Paris a virgin.
Kate lay there in the soft, warm water. It had never been the man on the other side of the door she was scared of on her wedding night, just her own reaction to him, the terror of being turned on.
And she was now.
She looked down at her swollen nipples and ran a hand over them and there was an absence of a bolt of lightning to chide her.
God but she was turned on.
Kate dried herself, put on her nightdress, and crept out into the dark bedroom and into bed where she lay beside him, trying to examine his face in the darkness, still trying to believe he was her husband, but in the real sense.
And they were on their honeymoon.
Which meant she could reach over and kiss him, even if he were asleep. Kate kissed him, exploring that beautiful mouth, rubbing her face on his stubbly jaw, closing her eyes in bliss as his hands started to roam her.
“Sorry to wake you,” Kate whispered.
“You can wake me anytime for a kiss,” Isaak said. “So long as you are not wearing this.” Isaak slid the nightdress off and then tore it down the middle and threw it out of the bed. “I hate that fucking thing,” he said and made her laugh as he got back to kissing her. “I need to shave.”
“You do,” Kate smiled, “but not yet.”
He kissed her, trying to restrain from tearing her face to shreds and so then he pulled back and kissed her eyelids gently and then her forehead and then his mouth moved to her ear.
“I have a secret…” Isaak said.
“You have many.”
He started to rain her face with kisses, soft scratchy ones, he covered her eyes, her nose, her cheeks and then down to her ear which tickled as he breathed into it as he teased her again. “No, I really do have a secret…”