But she had obviously been interested in that old egg.
“Do you like Imperial art?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said. “I mean, I’m not a connoisseur like my uncle Viktor. Like he used to be, I mean.” She paused for a moment, swallowing hard. “My mother owned two Faberge eggs,” she said. “The Blue Swan and the Garden of Eden. She wasn’t materialistic in general, but the eggs were special to her.”
“Why is that?” Nikolai said.
“I—I’m not sure,” Nadia faltered. “Actually, I wasn’t that close to my mother. She died recently and I...”
She broke off, tears streaming down her face.
Nikolai could tell that she was mortified to be crying in front of him.
And he felt like a complete idiot himself. He’d intended to make her comfortable, draw her out, charm her. Instead, he’d bungled by putting his finger right on the most painful place.
Also, and this was even stranger and more uncomfortable, he couldn’t help noticing how extraordinarily beautiful Nadia looked while crying. Most women probably would have tried to cover their face or turned away in embarrassment, but she sat very still, the tears beading like jewels on her thick dark lashes, and her smooth, flushed cheeks. The trembling of her lips, the heightened color of her face, the magnification of those stunning green eyes...it all combined to make her more alluring than ever. It was hard not to stare at her, hard not to pull the car over to the side of the road, and take her in his arms...
But after only a moment, she took a deep breath, and regained control of herself once more
He had thought she was a little timid from the way her boyfriend imposed on her. Now he saw there was a core of steel inside of her, within that soft and delicate exterior. She might bend, but she wasn’t about to break.
“I’m sorry,” Nadia said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Nikolai said. “I lost my mother, too, when I was twelve.”
“You did?” Nadia said, glancing over at him. “Were you very close to her?”
“I was,” Nikolai admitted. “She spoiled me. I’m an only child, so—”
“So am I!” Nadia said.
“Then you know how it is,” Nikolai said. “Too much attention, or else none, when they’re busy with other things...”
“It’s like the eye of Sauron,” Nadia said.
“What?” Nikolai laughed.
She turned red, embarrassed to explain it.
“You know,” she said, “like in Lord of the Rings...They turn the eye on you when they want something from you, when they expect something, and it’s this blast of furious heat and intensity. But then they get distracted with something else, and the eye turns away from you, and you’re left all alone just sort of...wandering around in the wilderness.”
Nikolai could picture this so perfectly that he couldn’t stop laughing.
“Oh my god,” Nadia said, shaking her head. “Please don’t laugh at what a nerd I am.”
“First of all,” Nikolai said, “I love Tolkien.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes,” he said. “I used to readThe Hobbitevery time I was sick. It was the perfect length that by the time I finished it, I’d be feeling better again. And second, I only laughed because I completely agree.”
“Well, anyway,” Nadia said, “I came to Moscow because my mother lived here until she was my age, or a little younger. So, I thought I might feel more connected to who she was. Or who she used to be.”
“How’s it going so far?” Nikolai asked.
“Not that great,” Nadia admitted. “My grandfather’s house is old and musty and, honestly, pretty depressing. I was only there a few hours today before I left to see Maxim.”
She paused for a moment, thinking.
