The Platinum Collection: A Convenient Proposal: His Diamond of Convenience / The Highest Price to Pay / His Ring Is Not Enough

She hadn’t changed. She hadn’t changed at all. When things became important, essential, she failed in the end.

All of the sweet, fuzzy pleasure that had been buzzing through her turned to ash, curling at the edges, folding in tightly on itself and wrapping her up tightly with it.

She pulled away from him, needing to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She looked back down at Bourbon Street, at the people below. The hen party was gone. And she felt as if she could suddenly see everything down there for what it was. Nothing more than drunken excess. Sad people trying very hard to trick themselves into believing they were having fun.

It was nothing to aspire to. It was nothing to covet.

And she was a fool.

“I think I’ll skip dessert.” She ran her hands over her hair, desperately trying to straighten it, desperately trying to erase the evidence of what had just occurred. She started to walk away, her entire body beginning to shake.

“I think you already had dessert, Victoria.”

She stopped, her body going stiff. “You bastard.” She didn’t turn around. She just kept walking.

And she vowed then and there that this wouldn’t happen again. He was right—she had changed because of Nathan. But it was a change that had been for the better.

One thing she would not be doing was changing herself for Dmitri Markin.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_b70f5814-8b27-5707-b136-dc29a22c2844)

DMITRI HAD SPENT the entire rest of the night lying awake, fighting a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.

It was an interesting experience going to bed unsatisfied. And not only unsatisfied, but with a deep feeling of shame and failure that wrapped itself around the arousal, making it feel more potent, making it feel both worse and better at the same time.

Dmitri was very rarely rejected, if ever. When he wanted sex he was able to get it. Moreover, when he did not want sex he was able to resist it.

Somehow, neither of those things had happened last night.

He hadn’t wanted to touch her, and yet he had. Then he had wanted her, and he had not got her.

He didn’t know which was worse.

Today saw the harsh New Orleans sun shining brightly in the sky, and he had immediately decided to go for a run in the obstacle-ridden streets before going back to the suite to face both the day and his accomplice from last night. She had been sleeping when he left, but he knew she would be awake now. It was after nine, and Victoria seemed very much like the kind of person who was up with the birds. Especially when there was a project to be done, and today definitely had a list of projects to tackle.

He stepped into the living area that he and Victoria shared just as Victoria was emerging from her bedroom. She froze like a startled cat when she saw him, her hands drawn up against her chest as though she were looking for pearls to clutch.

She was not wearing pearls; a polka-dot dress fell down past her knees, a wide patent leather belt highlighting her narrow waist. The neckline was high, demure almost, as all of her clothing seemed to be. And like the rest of her clothing he found it unbearably sexy.

“Good morning,” she said, her tone crisp.

“Yes, good morning.”

She appraised his appearance, and clearly found him wanting. Or at least, he was certain that was what she wanted him to think. But he didn’t miss the blush that stained her cheeks as she took in the sight of him. “You are not ready to go to the venue.”

“Why? Will there be anyone there?”

“You are sweaty.” She said it as though it was the most distasteful thing she could even imagine.

“It’s New Orleans. A quick jaunt outside and everyone is sweaty.”

“It looks like you’ve had more than a quick jaunt.”

“I had some energy to burn off.”

Tension crackled between them as he let the meaning hit her fully. He shouldn’t push her, because when he did they ended up where they had ended up last night. And he knew that he couldn’t allow it to happen again. This did not control him. There were so many paths he could take. All roads did not lead to her.

“Did you?” she asked, her tone starchy. “I slept very well.”

He let silence stretch between them. “Yes, I imagine you did.”

Her cheeks darkened a shade, and he could tell she was thinking of last night. “I refuse to feel guilty about it.”

“What about? That you managed to...get sleep when I didn’t?”

“Yes.” She elevated her chin and sauntered past him at a brisk pace, snatching her purse off the end table by the couch. “Shall we go?”

“The venue is here in the hotel, is it not?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I am sweaty, as you said. Would you like to wait for me to rinse off?”

“I feel like we’ve played this game before. I would rather not be present every time you shower. We are just going downstairs, so your running clothes should be fine, and I will bear your sweat with as much grace and poise as I can.”

“You are a consummate lady.” He followed her out of the suite and into the hall.

“I do try to be.”

She was so stiff and prim, but he knew better. And he would not allow her to pretend he didn’t. “I especially admire the way you keep your composure as you come.”

She whipped around to face him, her eyes wide with shock, her cheeks red now, not from embarrassment, but rage. “I cannot believe you mentioned that.”

“I’m sorry. Were you dedicated to the idea of speaking about it in euphemism for the rest of our time together?”

“I had rather hoped we wouldn’t speak of it at all.”

“You were the one rather flagrantly flaunting your good night’s sleep. And I’m the one who administered nature’s sleeping pill—therefore, I think I have room to comment.”

He shouldn’t be discussing it, as he had just purposed that he would not press this issue with her. Because there was nowhere it could go.

But perhaps this was what he needed. Perhaps it was what they both needed. To allow a slight release on their control so that in all major areas that control could be retained.

It made sense. It was what he had done back when he was fighting MMA professionally. It had given him a chance to get release without ever descending back into the dark place he had been in. A chance to burn off steam while retaining the most essential elements of his control.

“That’s crass.” She pressed the button for the lift and proceeded to stare at the metal doors determinedly.

“Perhaps. But you did not seem to find it so distasteful last night.”