The Russian Billionaire: A Romantic Suspense Novel Georgia Carre (ink ebook reader .txt) 📖

I nod. “Okay, I understand. Let’s just say I never saw anything.”

He smiles slowly. “Thank you. One day I will tell you.”

I smile back. I think I’m falling for this guy. He is everything I dreamed about in a man.

“Shall we go have a drink on the terrace?”

He holds out his elbow and I slip my hand through it.

“After our drink I need to make some calls so you can roam the house or take a walk on the grounds. It is very beautiful at this time of the year. And after that you are learning to drive my lambo.”

“What?” I splutter.

He looks down at me, an amused quirk to his mouth. “Don’t you want to?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Raine

If Konstantin thought I was going to be afraid of driving his matt black Lamborghini he had another think coming. I stepped on the gas and gave him the shock of his life. I had to laugh at his expression. I’m not afraid of big monster vehicles. When I was twelve my granddad let me drive his tractor. Once I knew pressing the button lightly kept the car running at a subtle noise decibel, but pressing it hard made the car roar like a beast. I pressed it hard and went screaming down all kinds of country lanes.

When we stopped at a deserted field, he pulled me out of the car and couldn’t wait to have his way with me. I will never again look at the image of an English countryside without feeling the grass on my knees and palms, my eyes turned up towards a clear blue sky, the sound of crows cawing in the distance, the smell of hot soil in my nose, and Konstantin’s hand pulling my hair, and his hard, hot cock thrusting urgently into my body. Again and again and again.

That was two hours ago. Now I stand in front of the mirror in my beautiful new blue dress. Gingerly, I touch a tendril of hair that has already escaped the complicated French plait that I unsuccessfully tried to put it into.

With a sigh I pull the whole thing down, brush it all out, then make my way down the stairs. I do not know where Konstantin’s room is. I am in a very feminine guest bedroom decorated in shades of cream and rose.

As I walk down the red runner carpet I wonder about Konstantin. He seems to need his space and privacy. Even at the hotel, it was perfectly clear even though he never said it aloud, that we both had separate rooms, separate bathrooms.

I wander into the truly massive living room. The ceilings are at least twenty feet high and the walls are thick and intricately carved. There are two large fireplaces. A grand piano sits in one end of the room. It faces tall windows that look onto acres of green landscape. For someone who lives in New York it is a truly unusual sight. I grew up on a farm but the grass was never this green.

Konstantin has not come down yet and I walk over to the open doors. Evening sunlight touches my skin, warming me. I hear a sound behind me and turn.

Konstantin stops walking and stares at me.

“What is it?”

“Wow, you look amazing standing there in the sunlight.” He comes closer and touches my hair. “Your hair is like gold. You looked like an angel just now.”

I lick my bottom lip.

He reaches out a hand and touches it. “I’m invited to a pool party at the home of the Crown Prince of UAE. Do you want to go see how the truly rich party, or do you want to stay and have dinner here?”

“Stay and have dinner here with you,” I say immediately.

“It’ll be something you’ve never done before.”

“Staying here and having dinner with you will be something I’ve never done before.”

“Okay. We’ll go to bed early. I like to ride before the sun gets too hot.”

“Yeah, let’s go to bed like really early,” I say with a grin.

“Your eyes are amazing. So blue… like wet jewels,” he says softly.

“I was thinking the same thing about yours,” I tease.

James appears with a tray of two champagne glasses. He withdraws as unobtrusively as he arrived. We sit in the light from the dying sun, drink our champagne and talk.

“So… how does a self-confessed nerd become a billionaire?”

He leans back and closes his eyes. “I’m a hacker and a coder. A very brilliant hacker and coder. I put together a currency platform that’s worth billions.”

“I saw the photo of you and Putin. Is he your friend?”

He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Look, Raine. I don’t want to talk to you about my work. I want to keep you protected. The less you know the safer you will be.”

I swallow the mouthful of champagne, and mumble, “Okay. I understand.”

“Tell me about you?” he invites.

So I tell him about my life, the two jobs, my mother, my sister, the apartment we live in, the gratitude we feel because my sister is still alive. He asks about my childhood and my voice becomes far away and distant when I remember how happy our lives were, while my father was still alive. We had prize winning goats, hens, a cow and some pigs. My mother grew her own vegetables and my father cultivated corn. We went to bed early and were up at the crack of dawn, and we worked all the hours that God sent. There was so much to do, but the air was clean, we kept close bonds with the rest of the farming community, and we were always happy.

He leans forward eagerly. “Tell me more about this farm. What kinds of things did you do?”

“Well, I was in charge of the hens,” I say. “I fed them, I cleaned out their houses, and I collected their eggs. They were like my pets. I would squat in the dirt and open my arms and