Granny Dan by Danielle Steel Page A

among the last to leave, after Danina had thanked the Czar and Czarina profusely. It had been an unforgettable evening, and they thanked her warmly for coming and, like Nikolai, voiced the hope that she hadn't done herself any damage by dancing so much and staying so long, when perhaps she should have been resting.
    “I will stay in bed all day tomorrow,” she promised, and the Czarina urged her to do it. It would be a shame if she fell ill again because of the party.
    But she was still in high spirits as they went back to her cottage. It was a lovely night, with a sky filled with stars, fresh snow on the ground, and all she could remember now was the endless dancing. Several people had asked her to dance, and she had danced with them willingly, but most of the evening she had spent in Nikolai's arms, and had to admit she preferred it. She was still chatting happily about all of it as they walked into her cottage, and he helped her take the ermine cape off. And just as he had all night, he couldn't help staring at her, and how beautiful she was in all her finery. More so than any other woman he'd seen all evening.
    “Would you like something to drink?” she asked him easily, she was too excited to sleep, and she hated to have it end now. And he had much the same feeling, as he poured himself a glass of brandy, and they went to sit in front of the fire the maids had left for them, and to talk about the evening. She surprised him by sitting at his feet in the splendid gown, and leaning her head against him. She was thinking about the evening, and was smiling into the fire dreamily, as he gently stroked her hair, and felt the sheer pleasure of having her lean against him.
    “I will never forget this night,” she said quietly, happy to just be there with him, not wanting anything more than she could have from him.
    “Nor will I,” he said, touching her long graceful arm with his hand, and then resting it on her shoulder. She felt so delicate and looked so fragile, and as she turned to look up at him she was smiling. “I'm so happy when I'm with you, Danina,” he confessed, afraid to go too far again, and offend her. But it was so hard not to tell her how he felt about her.
    “So am I, Nikolai. We have been very lucky to find each other,” she said, and meant it, not intending to tease him, but merely to celebrate their friendship. But she was making it more difficult for him than ever.
    “You make me dream again,” he said sadly, holding his brandy, “of things I gave up years ago.” At thirty-nine, he felt as though he had a lifetime behind him. A lifetime of lost hopes, and shattered illusions and disappointment. And now, in her, he saw the dream again, and yet he couldn't have it with her. “I love being with you.” And then, feeling too far away from her, he slipped onto the floor next to her, and they sat side by side looking into the fire, at their dreams, as he put an arm around her. “I never want to hurt you, Danina,” he said gently. “I want you to always be happy.”
    “I am happy here,” she said honestly, and she had been happy at the ballet. She had never really known unhappiness, only endless discipline and great devotion to what she'd been doing. Hers was a life of passion. And then she turned to look at him, and saw that there were tears in his eyes, as there had been earlier when he first saw her that night, but this time she saw them clearly, the first time she hadn't been as certain. “Are you sad, Nikolai?” She felt sorry for him. She knew his life wasn't easy for him. Although she chose not to acknowledge it, she knew how desperately unhappy he was at home, with a woman who didn't love him.
    “A little bit perhaps … but mostly very happy to be here with you.”
    “You deserve more than that,” she said quietly, realizing that he asked very little of her, and gave of his heart completely. She felt unfair to him suddenly. She had silenced him for her own purposes, so she would