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they would come running into them. They were so sweet. I loved them so much so I fought my parents and never allowed any of them to end up on our dinner table, but when we left we had to sell them all to a neighbor. They eat their chickens.”

A sigh escapes me. I haven’t spoken to anyone about them ever since we left and I feel a sense of nostalgia and sadness for my little friends. For that simple, happy life we left behind.

“Why did you come to New York?” His voice is soft in the cool evening air. The sun has already set.

I exhale the breath I was holding. “My mother’s sister was living there then and she told us to come and live with her. The Big Apple. Where the streets are paved with gold. What a shock my mother got when we arrived. Sometimes I feel we would have been better off on the farm, but we’ll never know.”

James comes to tell us dinner is ready to be served, and we move to the great dining room, our bodies touching. There is a closeness between us that wasn’t there before. I slant a glance at him. His face is closed, but I know something has changed in him. Something is different.

The dining table has been set for two. It’s clear the room is hardly ever used as our voices echo in the still air. I look around me. It feels as if I am living in a fairytale. Those horses, the land, the house, this candlelit room. I feel like Bella from Beauty and the Beast, only in my case, my beast has already been turned into a Prince.

Waiting staff come into the room. They fill the glasses in front of us with water and wine. The wine is cool and complicated. I’m not a wine person, but I like this wine.

“The wine is lovely,” I murmur.

“Yes, I have a sommelier who fills my cellar.”

“Wow, what a life you lead.”

“Actually, most of the time, I am working.”

“Do you ever get lonely, Konstantin?”

“No,” he denies instantly, then he pauses. “My work is very important to me.”

“Don’t you ever want to settle down, have a family?”

He looks away from me. “Yes, one day. But not now. I have to do this thing first. It is very important.”

“It’s the secret project you’re working on, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” And then he changes the subject. So we start talking about horses and then he invites me to go sailing in the Mediterranean with him. I feel pleasure surge into my body as I stare at him in astonishment. It’s just a small thing and it probably doesn’t mean anything, maybe he does this all the time, but he wants to see me again after the weekend.

I am so incredibly happy I can hardly eat. I finally understand what people mean when they say, I’m on cloud nine.

Raine

I think I might have drunk too much, because the rest of the night passes in a dream. We touch, we kiss, we hold, and we have sex, but sex feels different. It feels as if he cares. Of course, I don’t fool myself that he really does, but it just feels as if he does. It’s probably all that alcohol sloshing around in my veins.

We wake up early in the morning and I go to my room and slip into my new riding gear, complete with riding boots and go outside. The air is crisp. He is standing next to a pillar looking into the distance. He seems to be lost in deep thought.

“Hey,” I whisper.

He whirls around to look at me. “Wow! Turn around.”

I obey.

“You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen,” he decides.

I blush. I don’t know why I’m blushing.

He smiles, a knowing smile. I look at his beautiful face and start to feel butterflies fluttering in my tummy. But I don’t want to be like Chloe and the girl who tried to throw herself off the building. I need to keep myself sane. I need to keep a little bit of myself aloof. This is just a dream. When it is over he will be gone and I will have a healthy sister.

We ride together. Konstantin on a shiny black Arabian stallion, and me on a beautiful golden horse called Laika. It was immediate when I sat astride her that riding a horse is like riding a bicycle. You never forget. Laika responds beautifully. I pat her shiny neck.

“Shall we race that silly black Arabian stallion?”

She moves her head as if nodding.

“Wanna race?”

Konstantin’s eyebrows rise. “Why? You feel like losing?”

“Are you too chicken?”

He laughs. “No, I just like to have you in one piece.”

I laugh. “Oh, you little coward.”

“Go on. I’ll give you a head start.”

“No, I don’t want a head start. I want to win fair and square.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a man like you either. Now, are we racing or not?”

He grins. “On the count of three?”

“On the count of three,” I confirm.

Of course, I lose. It’s not Laika’s fault. No one told me that the Arabian stallion could actually fly.

To his credit, he doesn’t gloat. We go back and have a huge English breakfast. I have the works. Fried tomatoes, sausages, bacon, eggs, baked beans, and mushrooms. I don’t know whether it’s how this produce tastes in England or it could be the fresh air and the exercise, but it all tastes absolutely delicious.

Then it is time for us to leave. As I pack my suitcase, I actually shed some tears. What if I never come back? I have so loved my time in London.

The trip back passes too quickly. Yes, we have sex, but it feels too quickly over. I feel almost tearful, but I remind myself no one likes a clingy tearful woman. I won’t be like Chloe and the other girl. I won’t do that to myself or him.

There is a separate

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