of apples.
Alina headed for a vendor and ordered a hotdog.
‘Extra onions, please,’ Alina said. ‘And extra cheese.’
She really had promised she would stick to her diet this week but a morning spent with Demyan and a hotdog, even with extra cheese, seemed a very mild vice to have.
He went against everything Alina liked in men, especially the way he behaved about his son. Yes, Alina had read the same magazine! How could she possibly even begin to fancy a man who could simply let go of his child? Well, Roman wasn’t a child exactly, he was a teenager. She had only been three when her father had left.
Alina bit into the salty, greasy hotdog and for the first time since two minutes to eight her mind escaped Demyan. She looked up at the skyscrapers and the Sydney skyline, wondering if her father was behind one of the windows, working through his lunch break perhaps? Or maybe he was among the group of suited men walking towards her?
Would she recognise him if he was?
Would her father recognise her?
Would he even care? Alina thought, going to take a huge bite of her hotdog and realising she’d already finished the thing.
Obviously not.
* * *
Demyan had chosen to eat outside and sat on the terrace, idly watching the crowds go by, when he saw Alina throwing her apple and sandwich away and then buying the lunch that she clearly preferred—he had never seen someone eat a hotdog so fast!
Should he keep her or not? Demyan mildly pondered. Alina was nothing like Marianna or his regular staff, who were as efficient as they were unobtrusive.
He found himself frowning, because it didn’t make sense. Yes, he might sleep with Marianna at times, but when working she could be sitting beside him and he wouldn’t even notice. Alina was so shy and so eager to fade into the background that you actually couldn’t help but notice that she was there.
So shy, so pleasing, yet she’d refused him those painkillers.
‘Can I get you anything, sir?’ the ever-attentive waiter asked.
‘Another coffee,’ Demyan said, but as the waiter walked off Demyan called him back. ‘Could you find me some painkillers? Just bring me the packet.’
‘Of course, sir.’
That was better, Demyan thought briefly.
Actually, it wasn’t.
He remembered the burn in her cheeks as she’d said no to him. Demyan looked back to where she stood, watching the world go by, and he found himself admiring her generous curves.
God, wouldn’t it be nice to bed her? Demyan thought. Once she’d stopped apologising, once she had forgotten how to be shy. Wouldn’t it be nice just to go back to the hotel room and get reacquainted with curves.
The richer he got the slimmer the pickings.
He would save her for later, Demyan decided. Alina would be a very nice reward to look forward to once he had faced the tough weeks ahead.
Demyan took time over his second coffee.
It had nothing to do with keeping her waiting.
He simply didn’t want to go home.
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