He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to take his mind off things. He resisted the urge to call the Moscow Ballet to try and block Nikolai off from whatever he had already put in motion. He knew that messing with that arrangement in any way would be tantamount to playing with fire.

He knew Nikolai. He knew how vindictive he could be.

Instead, Salim looked over some of the research on works of art that were expected to come into the market soon, so that he could try to determine how much he might be willing to pay for them. It was a long, painstaking task, but it was one that only he could do, and he was happy for it.

He took dinner in his room, poring over the files, along with some large, rather well-made prints of the works in question. He was pleased to find himself getting caught up in the work, but it didn’t take his mind off Ophelia the way he had hoped that it would. Instead, with each piece he decided he would attempt to acquire, he couldn’t help but imagine showing it to her.

It was insidious the way she’d wound her way into his thoughts, even in such an unrelated matter. Every determination he made was as though he were explaining to her in his head, why he was choosing to go after a piece or leave it be. It was like she was right there, even though she couldn’t be. She was haunting him.

He thought of Calista’s advice. He could tell Ophelia. He could come clean about the whole thing before whatever scheme Nikolai had planned came to fruition. And, in the back of his mind, a part of him was trying to figure out whether what was holding him back was genuine concern for how the situation might affect her performance and therefore her career, and how much of it was just what Calista thought it was—him just not wanting to face the possibility of losing her.

It would be better after the tour was over, Salim thought. There would be less risk involved. Of all the damage that his confession might do to her personally, he couldn’t bear the thought that he might hurt her professionally, as well. After the tour, he would come clean to her and hope for the best. When they had the time and space to figure it out without the constant performances hanging over their heads.

Until then, he just had to avoid her. It wouldn’t be like London, he convinced himself. In London, there had been no explanation. This time, he’d explained that he needed time. Hopefully, she would accept that. She had to.

He had almost come to terms with the idea that he had to stay away from Ophelia when there was a knock on his door. He’d buried himself so deeply into his work that he almost missed it. But when he answered, there was a hotel employee standing there, looking polite but efficient. He gave a slight bow.

“Señor, I was sent to inform you that Miss Ophelia Collins is waiting for you in the piano room.”

She was what?

“This hotel has a piano room?”

It was a silly question, but all he could think of in the moment.

“Si, señor. Would you like me to take you there?”

No. That was what he should say. Yes, he had told Ophelia that he would accept her kind offer of piano lessons. But not now. Not like this.

“Lead the way.”

Salim had never been the kind of man to let his impulses get the better of him. But as he followed the employee down the halls of the hotel, back toward a wing he’d never been in before, he realized that that was exactly what he was allowing himself to do. When the employee opened the door, and he walked through it, though, he found that he couldn’t regret it.

There, seated at the piano, was Ophelia. She was dressed stunningly, in a long, flowing skirt. It looked almost like one of her costumes, but toned down to fit the room and the lighting. She was breathtaking. And, when she saw him, and smiled, it was as though a physical force was trying to blow him over.

“I thought we’d agreed…” His voice trailed off, stunned as he was.

“We never agreed. You agreed. But I’m not going to let you do what you did in London.” She smiled gracefully. She did everything gracefully. “Not again. And, anyway, I spent all day looking for this. You’d be surprised how hard it is to find a beginner’s piano book around here.”

She held up the book, but Salim’s eyes were fixed on her. His plans were ruined. How had he thought it possible to stay away from here for the entire rest of the tour? What dumb part of his brain had ever thought that the slightest possibility?

“Well, if you went to all the trouble…” he said, allowing a wide smile to paint itself across his face.

He strode over to the piano and seated himself next to her, just inches away from her perfect form.