brother, “tell her it’s ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous,” he agreed laconically.
“Lulu,” Dariya called over her shoulder, “get a party hat, will you? Right. So this party will be for both of us.” When Lulu brought the colorfully decorated hat, Dariya took the tiara off her head and stuck the hat in its place. “This will be for me.” She placed the diamond tiara on Grace’s blond head. “And that will be for you.”
“Oh no,” Grace gasped, feeling the weight of the diamonds on her head. She’d come without a gift, and now she was going to upstage Maksim’s sister, the famous socialite Princess Dariya, during her own birthday party? “That’s so generous of you, really, but I couldn’t—”
“To be honest, it suits you better.” She leaned forward and whispered mischievously in Grace’s ear, “It was a gift from my brother, anyway, and not at all my style!”
“Dariya, you promised to dance!” Simon called from the other side of the loft, where a four-person jazz band had started to play.
“In a mo!” She gave Grace one last hug. “Must go dance, I’m afraid. Otherwise he’ll pout, but I’m so glad you’re here. My brother looks happy. Make yourself at home!”
After she left, Grace touched the top of her head. Was it possible that they were actually real diamonds? The thought shocked her…frightened her. The wealth around her was already far beyond anything she’d ever seen, even working as Alan’s secretary. She felt like Alice who’d just stepped through the looking glass to a world where money really did grow on trees. And the tree branches were made of gold. And the berries were all diamonds, rubies and emeralds.
She felt Maksim come up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the crook of her neck. Her nipples instantly went hard, her breath shallow, her mind went dizzy. Then he whirled her around, handing her one of the crystal flutes from his other hand.
She took it with an awkward attempt at a smile. “My first champagne.”
“Cristal is not a poor way to start.”
She took a sip. The bubbles floated inside her, all soft and lovely and warm going down.
Maksim tilted her head upward with his hand, looking down at her from his towering height. His gaze was dark and intense. She suddenly knew he meant to kiss her again and she couldn’t think. Couldn’t even breathe.
Everything about him tempted her. Transfixed her. Made her long to really and truly be the woman who could mesmerize him in equal measure.
When would he kiss her?
Kiss her? What was she thinking? Clearly the tiara had constricted the blood flow to her brain!
Nervously she pulled away. She gulped down the rest of the expensive champagne as if chugging a can of soda, then pushed the tiara back crookedly on her head. “This thing isn’t real, is it? The tiara’s not real diamonds?”
He took a drink of champagne, his dark eyes resting on hers. “Set in platinum.”
She swallowed, thinking that she likely could pay off her mother’s whole mortgage with the sparkling tiara on her head.And maybe their neighbor’s house in the bargain!
“What if I break it?” She gave a weak laugh. “Do you have insurance?”
“Diamonds don’t break.” Finishing his champagne, he took both flutes and set them on the tray of a passing waiter. He took her in his arms. “The tiara suits you. You should keep it.” He slowly lowered his mouth toward hers. “You were born to wear jewels, Grace,” he whispered. “Born to be adored and pampered in a life of luxury.”
Someone turned out the side lights, leaving the loft lit only by the multicolored globes of the steel chandelier high above. Wide spotlights of red, green and blue shimmered in the semidarkness. In the wide space, she was aware of other people dancing, laughing, swaying to the music. She was in some strange fantastic world of stylish art, youth and limitless wealth.
But it wasn’t the luxury that lured her most.
It was Maksim.
“I won’t let you seduce me,” she whispered, trying to reassure herself. “I won’t.”
Every inch of her body, down to blood and bone, ached for him to kiss her. Her body arched toward his, taut with longing as her teal silk dress slid like a whisper against his tuxedo.
Pulling her against his hard body, too arrogant to care who might be watching, he lowered his mouth to hers.
He kissed her so deeply that their tongues intertwined, kissed her so hard that with one embrace he bruised and branded her forever as his own.
No! She sagged against his chest, her heart pounding wildly when he released her from the kiss. She couldn’t belong to Maksim. She couldn’t!
He straightened the diamond tiara, stroking the long hair that brushed her bare shoulders, making her shiver. He took two more flutes of champagne from a passing tray. Then, taking her hand, he led her to the dance floor.
For the next few hours they drank champagne and danced together, their bodies swaying to the music. Time moved strangely, sliding sideways so hours felt like minutes, and minutes felt like eternity. They danced to the soulful jazz music, to the poignant cry of the saxophone, until finally he pulled her gently to the furthest side of the loft.
There, alone in the shadows and away from the others, he pushed her against the wall. He gently bit at her neck, sucking on her ear. She gasped, breathless and desperate for more.
He finally kissed her mouth, his tongue stroking hers deeply, luring her. And suddenly she could barely remember Alan’s name, let alone why she should be loyal to him.
“Grace,” Maksim murmured between kisses. “It’s time to go.”
“Go? Already?” she faltered.
“It’s past midnight.”
“Oh.” And like Cinderella, that meant her time was up. The dream was over. She swallowed. “All right. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, anyway.”
“Then you’ll be tired.” He held her close, so close she could hear the beat of his heart. “I’m taking you to my hotel.”
Hotel? A hard shiver racked her body.
“Come with me now,” he whispered. “I can wait no longer. I want you in my bed.”
She sucked in her breath, staring up into his eyes, caught by his dark, commanding gaze. She’d somehow wandered into a fairy-tale world, a place beyond her comprehension. She’d been drawn from the real world to become a princess in diamonds and teal silk, enslaved by a fantasy prince who compelled her to follow her deepest desires.
He was so handsome, she thought in a daze. Brutally masculine, like a sixteenth-century barbarian warlord. A dark czar from a mist-shrouded medieval age.
“Can you walk,” he asked in a low voice, “or should I carry you?”
Walk? Her knees felt weak, whether
