Dmitry's Closet (8 page)

     "I'm so sorry, Royal. It appears that I must excuse myself for just a while," he said, escorting her back to the table. His hand caressed the small of her back. "You should finish your dinner, and I'll return shortly, if I can." He pulled out the seat for her again. She sat down with a dumbfounded look on her face. Was he serious? He would just leave like this?

     "What's wrong?" Royal asked, concerned. "I don't understand."

     Dmitry interrupted. "A small problem with another business that I own," he said, a little irritated by her inquiry. He bit his lip and humbled himself.

     "How many businesses do you own?" There was no reply for her question. He simply pushed up her chair to the table.

     "I am sorry, Royal. Stay and wait for me as long you can." He kneeled down to make eye contact with her. "I'll return later. Enjoy the meal that I've prepared for you and your guests." He rubbed the tip of her nose with his index finger and stood back up. He could clearly see the disappointment in her eyes.

     With an apology, he left the now nearly empty restaurant. His heavy footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor as he walked out without turning around. She watched his body disappear beyond the gilded glow of the decadent room through the front door that Anatoly held open for him.

     "And he's gone just like that," she said, absently.

∞♥∞

     Royal had managed to stay and wait, despite her bewildered embarrassment. She was like a birthday girl at a party with no guests. All dressed up and no where to go, she sat in the same seat that Dmitry had placed her in before he left and waited faithfully, obediently and most of all perplexed.

     As she sat talking to an old man, more than likely in his eighties about the various types of caviar and its history in Russia with royal families, the front doors to the restaurant opened suddenly, and Dmitry and his large entourage of men flooded into the building. They came in by the droves, filling the place back to capacity. They came in like nothing had happened, like there had been no interruption.

     Royal sat up and watched on like everyone else who was left behind. Each man found his date and settled down to talk and smile.

     Anatoly immediately disappeared into the back again, and Dmitry came in and locked eyes on Royal. As he passed them, the women, who were left behind in the whirlwind of urgency only hours before, looked up at him like hungry wolves each pining for his attention. But he did not look their way. His eyes were fixed on Royal, glad that she had stayed and waited for him. He zoomed in on her with an irate scowl on his face. His furrowed brow straightened as he approached the table. Royal noted the transformation, giving him a curious frown. What had he been up to?

     "I'm sorry that I was taken from you for so long," he said, seriously. His voice was distant. He tried to regain his composure and get back the moment that he had clearly lost with her on the dance floor.

     "It's okay." Royal's smiled lacked all enthusiasm. "I'm going to get out of here in just a minute, anyway. Have to get ready for tomorrow. I... can just walk over," she said, trying to hide her sadness. "Cory and Renée are going back with me. I just didn't want to leave before you returned considering all that you've done for us."

     "Nonsense. I'll have you driven back over. Anatoly will take you."

     "Oh, I don't want to bother him."

     "There is no bother. As a matter of fact, Anatoly will stay at the store from now on, down in basement. It's not safe for you to be there alone. People know there are large sums of money at the shop now. I wouldn't want anyone to think they can take advantage. Someone has to be on the premises to protect you."

     "I didn't know that the place had a basement."

     "A very nice one," he said, tasting the caviar.

     "How does Anatoly feel about this?" She watched him eat, frustrated at his quick commands and the fact that he was ignoring her discomfort. "I don't like this.
Now,
he has to uproot himself to stay with me. I don't want to be a bother. Maybe we can just get a security system or..."

     "Anatoly does as he's told. And he's been told to stay in basement and make sure that no one disturbs you after or before hours." He wiped his face and looked at her sternly, the full strength of his prominent bone structure obvious as he gritted his teeth. He picked up his wine and took a big gulp, most unlike him.

     "It looks like everyone around here does what they are told," she huffed. "Does anyone ever ask why? Because I'm not the
go fetch dog
type."

     Dmitry noted her anger and possible hurt. He calmed. "I told you why," his voice was softer. "It's not safe."

     "You seem...
different,
Dmitry. Strange." She looked down at the table to control her own growing resentment and distress.

     Dmitry sighed. "I seem, because I am." He tried to lighten his forceful tongue. "Just... listen to me, Royal. Anatoly does not mind at all." He reasoned softly with her, smiling to make his point more agreeable for her. "The basement is nice enough. He'll be fine. You'll barely know he's there." He lifted her chin to see her face.

     Royal rested her case, realizing that Dmitry had come to his final decision. She nodded to him in agreement and gathered her things.

     "Well, thanks again for everything," she said, understanding that something else was bothering Dmitry. "I'll see you later."

    
"Dah,
you will," he said, making eye contact with her. Royal didn't respond. Dmitry stood up as she stood and escorted her quietly to the door.

     She stopped at the threshold of the restaurant with her jacket in her hands and her purse under her arm waiting for the to limo pull up to the front of the restaurant. It was amazing to her how in a couple of months, she had completely gotten used to having a driver, a limo and a staff of people.

     Renée and Cory stood behind them intrigued by the oddly-matched couple.

     "I'm very proud of you, Royal," he reiterated with conviction. His large hands rested on her bare shoulders. He gazed at her for moment then motioned for Anatoly, who waited just outside of the door with the car. "You'd better get out of the night air."

     "Is he my bodyguard now? I don't need a slave, you know." She rolled her eyes.

     "Think of him as your
unofficial assistant."
He ran his index finger down the side of her neck. "I will see you later to make up for having to depart from you so abruptly."

     Royal still did not respond. She just touched the softness of his face and walked away.

     Watching her and her staff into the car, Dmitry closed the doors of the restaurant behind him as they drove off.

∞♥∞

     Renée and Cory watched on as Royal sat beside Anatoly in dead silence. She was broken hearted and completely incapable of hiding it. Ignoring them all, she sat in her v-neck, satin black Bagley Mischa dress, spoiled by the night's events. She had worked so hard to get dressed, to make him see her tonight. It was all in vain.

     Her diamonds earrings sparkled in the darkness, weighing down her small lobes. Beautiful canary yellow diamonds laid close to her neck dangling from the gold necklace and created a spectrum of beautiful light every time a reflection hit them just right.

     Her newest diamond gift had come only days before and had been the largest so far in celebration of her recent accomplishments. In his normal fashion, Dmitry had kissed her only on the forehead and in return was allowed to place the necklace on her himself.

     She wore only the jewelry he had given her tonight. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated him. But how could she show him when he was barely there?

     Her smoky eyes were adverted to the window staring past tinted glass into the clear, dark night. Her glossy, pouty lips were pierced together, clinched by perfect white teeth. She was a picture of true beauty and true agony.

     While Royal sank into the leather drowning in her thoughts, Anatoly looked at her staff with a sort of disdain, never uttering a word, but making them very uncomfortable.

     Unsure if he was provoked by direct eye contact, Cory shifted in his seat and tried to keep from staring the husky brut in his pupils. They were always worried that perhaps Royal had forgotten to hook him to his chain.

     However, Royal had learned over the past couple of months to simply ignore Anatoly.

     He was like a permanent prop in her life. She was only inches from him, but they were miles away only connected only through Dmitry. His close proximity to her body did not bother her at all. She leaned against him as she pouted, absorbing his body heat and sulking profusely. He was like the
personal assistant
that she had grown accustomed to having around. It was a good thing too, especially now that he would be living in her
hidden basement.

     Cory looked over at Renée with unspoken suspicion of Royal's relationship with the rich and powerful Dmitry Medlov. They had watched as he embraced her not only with his physical touch but his pulsating eyes every time he was around her.

     The mysterious couple was the constant subject of endless conversations when Royal was not around. Everyone marveled at the infinite number of expensive gifts that he showered upon her; the quiet conversations between them in the back office that would erupt into sudden laughter and the sexual tension that wrapped the store like a hungry fog.

     "Thanks for today," Royal said, trying to change the silent subject. A faint smiled came across her face, but she continued to pierce her lips, visibly worried. Moving the soft wisps of her hair from her face, she focused in. "Remember to be here tomorrow by nine. We open at ten. I want to spend some time meeting about today and ensuring that we have it all together for the rest of the week. It's all up hill from here." She gave a fake, almost disturbing smile.

     "Sure thing," Renée said, cocking her brow.

     When the limo pulled into to the back parking lot of the shop, Cory and Renée jumped out and headed to their respective cars before the chauffer could properly open the door. Each was trying desperately to get away from the glaring pit bull Anatoly.

     Ignoring them both, Anatoly got out of the limo before Royal and helped her inside of the empty shop.

     "Thank you," she said, not expecting a response. He did not. Anatoly was always quiet, not bothering to respond to any of her constant gestures of kindness.

     He walked in front of her to check the shop as he had been instructed, while Royal stopped and looked over her office to make sure that she had left nothing out of place or unlocked. She was looking at a business card left by one of the women who had visited her earlier when Anatoly appeared in the doorway.

     He looked at her for a minute before he sighed. "I'll be downstairs, if you need me," he said, giving her the same icy stare as Dmitry. His eyes were a riveting cobalt blue shaded by layers of thick lash. His voice was a deep, silky baritone.

     Royal was startled. She had never heard him speak in English. His accent was even stronger than Dmitry's. She tried to suppress her sudden urge to ask him one hundred questions about their boss. Instead, she kept it simple.

     "Where is the basement?" she asked, trying not to look as shocked as she actually was.

     Anatoly walked pass her to the bookshelf, grabbed the large wooden furniture by its ends, grunted a little as he shifted the heavy oak and moved it further down the wall. There, as plain as day, was a door. He hit a code on the security system and opened the vault-like contraption.

     "You can buzz me from your place on the security system. Just hit 22#. I won't be here when you open or when you close. Just at night and early mornings."

     Royal shook her head in amazement. As normal, Anatoly showed no emotion and with a nod he disappeared behind the door and left her alone.

     "Well, I'll be damned. What else don't I know about this place?" she asked, taking her shoes off her aching feet.

     Letting her long hair down from its bundle, she slowly made her way upstairs to recover from a very tedious day.

Chapter 6

     Steam billowed up creating a marvelous and aromatic fog throughout Royal's marble bathroom. To set the mood for a more relaxing late evening, she had taken some of the candles Dmitry had given her a few weeks ago and lit them around the bathroom and her bedroom. The luminous glow made her feel pretty or at least relaxed.

     To purge her thoughts, she connected her IPod and let the music blast throughout the apartment. Chris Cornell sang his heart out on his Euphoria Morning CD, and Royal hummed along.

     The hot water cascaded over her body, relaxing her aching muscles and drowning some of her more disturbing thoughts. Unfortunately, there were many of them tonight. She drifted into the haze for a while thinking of Dmitry—trying to figure him out. Her infinite questions consumed her.

     Did he really care about her at all? What if she was reading too much into their friendship all along? Dmitry was a millionaire with homes and businesses all over the world. He was beautiful and brilliant. And she was a broke, orphaned virgin with nothing to offer. Did he really take her seriously or was she just something to do for the moment?

     The steam curled her long hair dangling down her back and over her long caramel shoulders, cooking through her skin and interrupting her thoughts. She couldn't tell if it was the heat or her heart, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She wiped the water from her face and took a deep breath.

     "Ugh, I need to get out of here," she said, turning off the violent water rushing from the showerhead.

     Wrapping a large terrycloth towel around her body, she opened the door to the congested bathroom and allowed the cloud to drift into her bedroom. Shivering, she dropped the fluffy towel and slipped on her short, black silk robe quickly, trying to minimize her exposure to the cold air blasting through the vents.