Return of the Untamed Billionaire by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli [Marinelli, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-05-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

ANYA GOT INTO the car as her cases were loaded.

She had insisted on not checking out of the hotel. It felt safer knowing she had a bolt hole to return to at any time if they didn’t work out.

And she very much doubted that they could, for she simply could not foresee a time when they could speak of Celeste, and neither could she ever forgive him for leaving her all those years ago.

He had ended their relationship without consultation.

And now, with just as little consultation, he was starting it again.

Roman had a driver.

Oh, her heart knew him, but who was this man and how had he got to where he was? Her brain was dizzy from him.

‘I’m tired, Roman,’ she said as he got into the car and sat beside her.

It was long after midnight and she was utterly drained.

‘I know,’ he replied. ‘Soon you can rest.’

His apartment wasn’t very far from the hotel she was staying at.

He lived in the chic Eighth District just off the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, which was arguably the most beautiful avenue in the world.

How?

He insisted his money was his own but Anya knew where he had come from and it did not seem possible to her. As they drove through heavy gates and into a private street a horrible thought occurred. They pulled up at a stunning classic Parisian residence and there was one thing Anya had to know before she got out of the car.

‘Is this where you lived with her?’

‘No,’ Roman answered. ‘I bought this last year.’

And so she got out.

The foyer was serviced and they were greeted. The gates of an antique elevator opened and an elderly man came out and spoke for a moment with Roman in French.

There were several elevators and it was like a faded, luxurious hotel, Anya thought.

‘This is the only elevator you can use. I shall give you a key,’ Roman explained as they stepped in. ‘If you press this...’ he showed her which button ‘...it takes you straight up to my apartment.’

It made no sense.

Still, she asked no questions, just nodded as they jolted upwards. When the lift came to a halt he pulled the door open and she stepped into luxury that wasn’t faded, but magnificent.

They stood in a reception area the walls of which were deep crimson; the ceiling and carpets were too. There were antique furnishings and a huge gilded mirror in which Anya could see her pale reflection.

An elderly rotund woman came through and conversed in rapid French with Roman before speaking directly to Anya, who shook her head to say she didn’t understand.

She was almost too tired even to speak.

‘Josie said that your room is ready and asked if you would like some supper.’

‘Tell her, no, thank you,’ Anya said.

‘Do you speak any French?’ he asked.

‘I know an awful lot of ballet terms,’ she said, ‘but that’s about it.’

The elderly man returned at that moment and deposited the cases, presumably in her room, and when he

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