The Cost Of The Forbidden. Carol Marinelli

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      ‘Sev,’ Naomi crisply replied, when she would far rather dive under the covers and prolong the call, ‘I’m giving you an official warning now.’

      She hung up on him. Sev tossed the phone down in frustration.

      Bloody Naomi, Sev thought as he lay there. He was hard for her and had been left hanging. And then he remembered why he’d come to Rome.

      She had been brunette.

      It was as simple and as messed up as that.

      He was over Naomi and her moods.

      Sev didn’t need some sanctimonious PA sitting on her moral throne. She was there to run his life, not have him account for it.

      Who cared what she thought?

      He cared about no one.

      Only that wasn’t quite right.

      God, but he hated this month already.

      Sev hated November.

      He always had and he always would.

      In Russia it was Mother’s Day at the end of November.

      At school, the ‘home kids’, as he and his friends had called the students who’d had families, would sit and make cards for their mothers as the ‘detsky dom’ kids stuck rice onto paper for, well, no one in particular.

      There had been four at his table, they had been together since nursery school.

      Sevastyan had always been the nerdy one, Nikolai had liked ships and then there had been the twins, Roman and Daniil, who were going to be famous boxers one day.

      Some day.

      Never.

      ‘If you don’t have a mother then make a card for someone you care about,’ the teacher had suggested each year.

      The ‘detsky dom’ kids’ cards had never got made.

      A few years back Sevastyan had found out that he did have a mother, but he now knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated a card with stuck-on rice anyway.

      He’d send flowers, of course, but rather than rely on Naomi he would try to work out himself what to put in the note.

      Each year it became harder to work out what to write.

      Thanks for being there?

      She hadn’t been.

      With love to you on this special day?

      It wasn’t a special day to her.

      And there was no love.

      November also meant that it was his niece’s birthday.

      Her eighteenth! Sev suddenly remembered.

      He’d stop at Tiffany on the way to the office Sev thought, then decided not to bother.

      Whatever he sent would just end up being pawned or put up on some auction site.

      Yes, for so many reasons he hated November.

      Sev closed his eyes but he still could not sleep.

      He stared into the dark and could remember as if it were yesterday, rather than half a lifetime ago, hearing his friend quietly crying in the night.

      These had been boys who had stopped crying from the cradle and so Sev had not known whether his friend would appreciate that he knew that he was.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Sev had asked. ‘Nikolai, what has happened?’

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘It doesn’t sound like nothing.’

      ‘Leave it.’

      He had.

      To Sev’s utter, utter regret, he had.

      In the morning Nikolai had been gone.

      A week later his body had washed up and Sergio had come back with his bag, in it a ship Nikolai had been making out of matches.

      Sev lay there and thought of his friend and his sad end.

      And the thought of the others he still missed to this day.

      On the twelfth of November, the day Nikolai had run away, Sev would be in London for yet another futile attempt to meet with his past.

      He might give it a miss, Sev thought, but he was as superstitious as he was Russian.

      If he didn’t go, of course it would be the one year that Daniil showed up.

       CHAPTER THREE

      SHEIKH ALLEM WAS extremely gracious about the change in plans.

      In fact, when Naomi had called him at nine he hadn’t seemed in the least surprised. He’d told Naomi that he would come to the office at four but in the meantime, would she mind taking Jamal shopping?

      ‘Of course.’

      Naomi had dressed in a navy shift dress and flat ballet pumps and she headed up to Sev’s apartment to check if the gift he had bought for Allem was there.

      His apartment took up the entire floor.

      She was often in there, packing his case, doing little jobs, showing through a designer because he’d decided he had changed his mind about a wall or a light or whatever it was that he might suddenly decide that he wanted changed. She basically took care of many details of Sev’s life so that he didn’t have to.

      His maid was in there, changing the flowers and making sure everything was perfect for his return.

      Naomi said hi and went through to Sev’s study.

      There was no polished wooden box that she could see in any of the drawers.

      She looked on top of the desk.

      There was no box there either, just a rather scruffy little ship.

      It was odd, Naomi thought, picking it up and examining it. It was old and poorly put together, unlike anything else in the apartment.

      She put it down again and then headed into his bedroom, deciding to take the opportunity to take a couple of fresh shirts to the office.

      His bedroom was her favourite room.

      Not because of him.

      Well, maybe.

      But it kind of fascinated Naomi.

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