She was floating on a cloud made of pixie dust and she never wanted to come down.
When they’d arrived at Vadim’s house, which apparently once belonged to his parents and was even bigger than Iwan’s, he’d carried her across the threshold, up one of the twisting staircases to the top floor, down a long hallway before depositing her on the biggest bed she ever saw.
Then he disappeared into a room which he later divulged was a walk-in closet stuffed full of clothing and personal items. He emerged from it carrying the silkiest white nighty and dressing gown she ever touched, softer even than the pjs on the plane. It was softer than cashmere and he’d hung it carefully in the bathroom. She wondered where he was getting his collection of exquisite lingerie for her.
Then her bath was drawn. The
