Chapter 4
By eleven o‟clock that evening, Royal had retired upstairs
to her apartment. Rain tattered at the windows and
thunder shook the foundation outside, but inside she was so
very comfortable that she barely paid attention to the bad
weather. After showering, she crawled in her bed to watch
reruns of the Family Guy and eat Ben & Jerry‟s ice cream out
of the box.
The diamonds Dmitry had given her that afternoon inspired
her to also purchase a pair of French lace panties and
bra that a year ago would have paid for her tuition. She lay
in bed now wearing them and enjoying the very exciting,
uneventful life that she had only recently acquired.
During a quick commercial break, she jumped up and
dashed out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, when
the doorbell rang. She stopped in her tracks and looked at
the large wooden doors.
In the last month that she had lived there, the doorbell
had never once rang. Now, when it was not supposed to be
ringing for any reason, it was. She looked down at her lack
of clothing and sighed.
"Who is it?" Royal asked. Agitated, she peered out of
her peep hole.
"It‟s Dmitry," Dmitry said, leaning against the door.
"Who else would it be?"
Royal wondered if Dmitry ever stood all the way up.
Every time that she saw him, he was leaning on something,
like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
Slowly, she opened the door just enough to see his face.
He looked down at her and smiled softly. "Hello, Royal."
His minty breath floated down to her.
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38
"What do you want, Dmitry?" she asked, looking him
up and down. He was soaking wet. His blonde tendrils
were trenched in rain and his body made a small pool of
water under him.
"I‟m here to take you out," he reasoned, trying to catch
a glimpse of whatever she was hiding behind the door.
"What?"
"Your exact words earlier today were that I could take
you out, but not with my girlfriend," he smacked his lips and
raised his eyebrows. His accent was even heavier now that
he had been drinking. It was almost impossible to understand
what he was saying when he spoke quickly. Finally,
he stopped his rambling. "Hey, what are you wearing in
there?" His train of thought jumped when he saw bare
skin.
"None of your damned business," Royal said, moving
away from the door. "Well, I meant that you could take me
out at a decent hour, not now."
"What‟s wrong with now? You don‟t look busy," he
leaned down further to her and smiled. "There had better
not be anyone in there." His voice was deep.
"Of course not. Stop being stupid."
"Only you would think that was stupid," he shook his
head. "Okay, then why won‟t you go out with me now?"
"It‟s too late at night," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"For whom?"
"Me." Royal tried to keep from laughing. "What happened?
Did your girlfriend get tired of you?"
Dmitry rolled his eyes. "No, I got tired of her. I sent
her away, and she is not my girlfriend for the umpteenth
time." Dmitry sighed. "Royal, I want to come inside and
sit down. I‟m drunk. This hallway is not…"
"Not what?" She pushed the door up a little more.
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39
"Accommodating." He wiped his tired eyes.
"No," Royal said, watching him as he walked to the
stairwell and slid down the opposite wall to sit on the floor.
"Fine. I‟ll sit out here and sleep at your doorstep like
dog," he yawned.
"Fine with me," Royal said, as she closed the door and
locked it, but from her peep hole, she could see that Dmitry
did not move.
She snickered. He was so pitiful and so dramatic. He
deserved an Oscar for his performance. She started to leave
him there until morning but decided to slip on a pair of
jeans and t-shirt.
When she was fully dressed, she opened the door to
find him snoring lightly.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. I thought that you said that you
wanted to go out?" She locked her door behind her.
"Yeah," he wiped his watering eyes. "I‟m up…ready."
Getting up off the ground, he stretched his long body
and moved out the way so that she could get to the stairs.
He followed her down to the back door, where she found
Anatoly standing out in the rain with a large black umbrella
waiting for them.
"You‟ve been waiting here the whole time?" she asked
horrified.
Anatoly did not speak to her or blink. He simply raised
the umbrella to cover her body from the rain and escorted
the two of them to Dmitry‟s limousine.
It really did not bother Royal that Anatoly would not
answer her. He rarely spoke. At first, she thought him to
be a mute, until once she heard him speaking in Russian on
his cell phone. After that, she decided that he simply didn‟t
speak English.
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40
Once they were inside the limo, Royal sat across from
Dmitry, curiously looking at his outfit. He was in a tailored
black-tuxedo. She was in jeans. Where could they go as
mismatched as they were?
"So, tell me what happened," she demanded, reaching
over into the distinctively expensive French silver-plated
bronze & brass champagne bucket to open the unopened
bottle of Louis Roederer Champagne Cristal Brut Rose.
She looked down at the bottle impressed. This was at least
at $500 bottle, yet he kept it stocked like it was Red Bull.
"Night ended early," Dmitry said, smiling at her. His
dimples were not deep but long and showed only when he
smiled. His face was covered in a fine five o‟clock shadow
of dirty blonde stubble, but it only caused him to look more
rugged and sexy.
"Did you not tell her who you were? And how happy
she should be to be with you?" Royal mocked him.
"She knows who I am; I sent her away," he said slowly,
over articulating his words. "I was bored, and I wanted to
be with you."
"You‟re so full of yourself," Royal said, shaking her
head.
"It‟s true," he rested his arm on the armrest and rubbed
his stubbly beard.
"I bet," she scoffed.
"You think I‟m harmless, don‟t you?" Dmitry leaned
forward soaking wet from the rain. His long legs stretched
across the limo like a black spider.
"No." Royal poured them both a glass of champagne,
unmoved by his question. "I‟m sure that you‟re trouble,"
she said, offering him the glass.
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41
"If you only knew," he said, sitting back after he had
taken the crystal flute from her. "Spasiba." He thanked her
in Russian.
"Enough about you, Dmitry. Where are you going to
take me?" Her long body sat relaxed in the black leather
seat opposite him, mirroring his own entitled demeanor.
"Where do you want to go?" He took a sip of the
champagne.
"It‟s pouring rain." She tapped her finger on the door as
she thought. "Ummm, how about to the movies?"
"What is with you and movie theatre? Is this the only
thing you enjoy?"
"Yeah, it‟s the thing that I enjoy," she said, mildly excited.
"There‟s nothing like a good movie."
Dmitry gave a curious stare, but Royal could not tell
what he was thinking. "Anatoly, take us to my house. I
need to get dressed for Royal‟s movie," he said finally.
"Uh uh," Royal protested. "You can wear what you
have on. I‟m not going to your house," she said, shifting in
her seat a little, suddenly uncomfortable.
"You don‟t really expect me to go to movies soaking
wet, do you?"
Royal thought for a minute, tapping her foot as she debated.
"Fine. I‟ll wait out in the car while you go change."
"Who said that you were invited in? I don‟t need help
dressing." Dmitry shot her a stare. "Someone that thinks
very highly of themselves in this car tonight."
"Call it what you want to Dmitry, but I don‟t go to
strange men houses in the middle of the night so they can
get dressed or undressed."
Dmitry laughed at Royal‟s inability to control her complete
discomfort with the thought of him. He pealed out
of his wet tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned the top of his
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42
collar. The cold clothes stuck to his body and wet white
shirt showed the defined muscles under his many layers of
fine dressing along with a plethora of tattoos that Royal
would have never guessed were there.
"Я должен иметь секс с вами теперь," he said raising
his eyebrow at Royal.
"What did you say…speak English," she snapped.
Dmitry smiled. "I should get naked right now, just to
see how you react to what grown man looks like." His eyes
twinkled in the darkness.
"That‟s not what you said. I tell you what. You will be
out of this car, Dmitry, if you take off one more thing,"
Royal said, in a matter-of-fact tone, pointing her finger at
him.
"You know, Royal. You are very sexually frustrated. I
can tell. You‟re always scared that someone will steal your
precious gift." He looked in between her legs and licked his
lips.
"Ooh. Uh uh. Not an appropriate conversation," Royal
said, closing her legs. "I‟m gonna need you to stop worrying
about my sex." She rolled her eyes and tried to repress a
broad smile.
Dmitry was funny and arrogant. It was a preposterous
mix, but it made being around him constantly exciting.
"It‟s just that I‟m worried about your overall happiness,"
he whined sarcastically. "Happy employee is productive
employee."
Royal leaned forward, taking the power from Dmitry
and using his same mannerisms to drive her point home.
"Poor Dmitry. Do you consider sex to be happiness?"
"Do you?" Dmitry asked, finally having fun with Royal.
He waited on baited breath for her to liven up; now here
was a glimpse of it. The woman hiding inside of the shrew.
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43
"No. I don‟t consider sex to equal happiness," she said
curtly.
"Nyet?"
Royal smirked. "No. Happiness cannot be defined by
such a physical pleasure when happiness itself is so abstract
– so intangible."
"Well now. Look at little philosopher. I never said that
I considered sex to be happiness, I asked if you did."
Dmitry chuckled.
"What do you consider to be happiness?" Royal was
finally curious.
"Control." His tone was sincere.
"Control?"
"Did I stutter? Such a thing is also intangible." He half
chuckled.
"That‟s just such an S&M answer."
Dmitry laughed. "Your choice of words amuses me.
Okay, maybe it‟s the loss of control. Either way, the control
is going to land in someone else‟s lap."
He leaned further into her, close enough to smell the
sweetness coming from her breath and the heat eradiating
from her body. He wanted to suck her scent into his
nostrils and grab her, rip her clothes from her limbs and
take her in the back of the limo, but he settled for thumping
her nose.
"What do you know about anything, eh? You‟re
girl…and barely that," he whispered.
Royal‟s smile quickly crooked, and she snatched back in
the corner of the seat. Dmitry could see it. She was incensed.
She wanted to tear him limb from limb for mocking
her, and he really didn‟t care. Anger was closer to sex
than glib calmness.
"I‟m not a girl," she said, defensively.
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44
"Of course, you are," he said, patronizing her and enjoying
every minute of it.
"I am a grown woman!" she protested.
Her ponytail and the soft hair flirting around the nape
of her neck and the front of her ears caused her to look
more like a teenager than a woman in her twenties, but the
excitement that caused her blood pressure to rise and her
nipples to harden seemed more sinister to Dmitry than
child‟s play. He licked his lips.
"Calm down, Royal. I‟m just fucking with you," he said,
sitting back, happy to have gotten a rise out of her.
He stopped smiling. His face was like wet ice, glistening
and chiseled. He rubbed his hands through his blonde
wavy curls and raised his eyebrow at her. "But you don‟t
like to be fucked with, do you?" He breathed calmly.
There was complete silence for a moment.
"No," Royal said finally, realizing that there was something
off about Dmitry. "I don‟t."
The car stopped, and Royal found herself in front of
large white Plantation-style home. Anatoly parked quickly,
jumped out of the car and opened the door for Dmitry with
the umbrella eagerly awaiting his demanding boss.
"Are you sure that you want to stay in car?" Dmitry
asked, before he got out.
"Positive," Royal said, looking at Anatoly curiously,
wondering if he did everything that Dmitry told him.
"Well, I‟ll only be minute." He stepped out of the car
and stopped. Leaning back in, he smiled cleverly. "Should I
wear jeans for your movie, Royal?"
"If you‟d like," Royal said absently.
"See, the control thing isn‟t so bad is it?"
Royal smiled but didn‟t say anything. Anatoly closed
the door softly, and she sat back in the car feeling sleep
Dmitry's Closet
45
overtake her. She wished now that she had stayed in the
bed.
She listened to the storm rock the city with wind, heavy
rains and lightening as she waited. Curiously, she looked
out the window across large gated lawn undisturbed by the
late night rumblings. Security guards with dogs walked the
perimeter of his property even in the rain, while Anatoly
stood on the porch watching her and waiting for Dmitry.
Rich people, she thought as she sat back in her seat. They
are so freaking dramatic.
She closed her eyes finally and relaxed her head on the
leather, feeling the warm seats caress her body. She had
nearly gone to sleep when Dmitry arrived back. As the
door opened for him, rain quickly rushed inside, dampening
her face. He jumped in with a pair of dark jeans and
a blue v-neck top, looking the most casual that Royal had
ever seen him.
"Hope I wasn‟t long," he said, taking a swig of the Foster‟
s beer that he carried with him.
"Actually, I dosed off there for a minute." Royal sat up
in the chair. "You look…great. Like a walking Ralph
Lauren advertisement." She nodded.
"A compliment? It seems that we are making progress,
Royal," Dmitry said as he tapped her knee. "Anatoly, let‟s
go," Dmitry instructed keeping his eye on Royal. The car
started, and they pulled off.
Royal watched Dmitry curiously but did not speak.
"I‟ve called in favor to have Paradiso movie theatre all
to ourselves tonight. It closes in hour. I was hoping that we
could have dinner at restaurant first and go over there for
late showing of whatever you want to see," he offered
checking his Blackberry.
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"After it‟s closed? Are you serious?" She grabbed the
phone from him and put it into the side compartment of
her seat. "Stop with that phone. It‟s weird a.m. hours.
Can‟t whomever it is wait? You are the boss, remember?"
"Fine, but only if you take off tomorrow. You work
too hard anyway. People probably think it‟s me working
you, but it feels like the other way around. Just…just hang
out with me tonight and spend tomorrow in the bed or
doing whatever introverts like you do."
"Alright," she sighed, giving in. "I haven‟t been to your
restaurant since I was hired. I‟m excited. And I never have
had a movie theatre stay open just for me. That‟s pretty
cool."
"You should come over to restaurant more and have
lunch or dinner. It will save you money."
"Okay," Royal said, moving her long hair from her face.
Dmitry smiled deviously. "You should sit over here
with me and let me kiss your lips too," Dmitry said scooting
over. He rubbed the leather seat.
"What?"
"Just kidding," Dmitry said quickly. "Hey, you were
saying okay to everything… had to try."
They both laughed, but Royal did not move from her
seat. In fact, she sat with her eyes directly on Dmitry
watching his every move.
They arrived at the restaurant soon after. Dmitry had
arranged for his staff to stay late and cook a huge Russian
meal for Royal. The two of them ran out of the rain from
the car, while Anatoly pulled the limo to the back.
They were met at the front door by two red-headed
young waitresses, barely in their twenties, dressed in all
black and holding menus. As Royal ran in, she stopped
amazed at the romantic transformation.
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47
Dmitry had a single, intimate table set up in the back
with a beautiful golden candelabra full of blood-red candles,
golden table settings and a large bouquet of red roses. The
rest of the restaurant was covered in candles as well.
Royal turned to Dmitry for an explanation, but he only
smiled and escorted her to her seat with his large hand
placed carefully at the base of her small back. He sat her
down in the seat, pushed her up to the table and kissed her
forehead.
The staff scurried about ensuring that everything was
perfect, while Dmitry went behind the bar and brought
back two glasses and a bottle of champagne.
"More Cristal?" he asked, raising the bottle.
"Dmitry, what is this about? Why could this date not
have waited? It‟s raining cats and dogs out tonight, and
you‟re frolicking around like its noon and sunny."
"First of all, I do not frolic. I thought that we had this
discussion. Secondly, time waits for no man – not even me.
This afternoon you agreed to go out. I thought about it all
day after. I couldn‟t even focus on my evening. So, I
cancelled. I…didn‟t want opportunity to pass, and so I
came for you. End of discussion."
"All this for your shop girl?" Royal asked, impressed.
"My shop girl is best girl that I know."
Royal appreciated that. Her smiled showed it.
"What are you thinking about?" Dmitry finally asked.
"I wonder… how old you are?"
He laughed. "How old do I look?" He stared in her
eyes as he sat across from her.
"I don‟t know. I want to say that you‟re in your thirties."
"Barely. I‟m thirty-nine," Dmitry informed her.
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48
"That old?"
"I don‟t consider that old."
"Of course, you wouldn‟t," Royal said, smirking. "So
let‟s flip the script, shall we? Tell me. Why don‟t you have
a family?"
"I have my reasons – most of them deal with my lifestyle,"
he looked up at her and paused, stopping his sentence
in mid thought. "You and I. We are very much a
like, eh?"
"No, we‟re not." Royal continued. She could clearly
see he was hiding something. "You never talk about a
mother, father, sister, brother. No one. I never see you
around anyone except Anatoly and the men from the shop.
You have no wife, no steady girlfriend…"
"It‟s funny that you don‟t have any of these important
people either."
"Yeah, but I was an orphan for most of my life. Then a
family adopted me, mostly because they need a babysitter.
When I turned eighteen, I went to college, and I only call
them now once a month to check on them, because I think
that is what family is suppose to do. Otherwise, I have no
one. I‟m alone in this world. Now, why don‟t you?"
"Same story, really, different time. Well, I grew up in
Moscow on streets. The people there became my only
family. When I came to America as young man, I was a lot
like you. I had no time for anything that was not delivering
immediate profit."
"You never knew your mother, either?" The rest of
Dmitry‟s statement was lost on Royal.
"Barely, she died when I was very young. Then, I went
to prison very young."
"Oh, I‟m sorry," Royal said, realizing his story was as
pathetic as hers. "You know, I‟ve never had either, but I‟m
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49
willing to bet that it‟s harder to grow up with out a mom
than a dad?"
Dmitry didn‟t answer. It was if as such a thought had
not crossed his mind either way.
Royal continued. "What about your father?"
"I only know what I was told about him by men in prison
and on streets. From what they say, he wasn‟t worth
talking about."
"What did you go to prison for?"
"I was thief. Moscow gets cold in winter. I had to
make life for myself at first. Besides I only spent a few
years inside. Not so bad."
"Not a thief by choice, then. You had to survive."
"I moved passed simply surviving by the time that I was
15. I‟m afraid that I just enjoyed it. What about you? Have
you ever been to jail, Royal?"
"No. I‟ve been close." Royal bit her lip. "It was a petty
domestic dispute when I was a teenager. My foster mom‟s
boyfriend tried to feel me up in bathroom one night, so I
cut his ear off."
"Petty?" Dmitry laughed. "Rape is hardly a petty
crime." The thought of Royal being raped infuriated him,
but he tried hard to conceal it.
"What was worse was that I had to get the damn cops
to believe that it was actually attempted rape and assault.
He said that I wanted it." She shook her head. "He was
such a jerk. I had to show them the choke marks around
my neck to prove that I wasn‟t lying."
"He choked you?"
"In truth, he was kicking my ass, but I got a hold of the
scissors and managed to cut him." She formed her fingers
together like a pair of scissors and smiled.
"What was his name?"
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"Woodrow Conners," she chuckled. "Such a lame
name."
"Here in Memphis?"
"Yeah."
Dmitry was silent for a minute.
"Really, I‟m okay. I‟ve got thick skin," she continued.
"What did your foster mother say about you nearly being
raped by her boyfriend?" he asked, intrigued.
"Not much in my defense. She had me removed. I finally
ended up with the Stones. They were just a family that
needed someone to help them with their four biological
children- all under the age of ten."
"So, you went from sex toy to nanny." He sighed.
"Oh, I never was raped," Royal quickly added. "I protected
myself always from that at all costs. I‟m still a virgin
to this day." She was proud of that fact.
"Excuse me?" Dmitry‟s eyes bucked. His mouth hit the
ground.
"I‟m still a virgin. I just haven‟t met the right guy, and
I‟ll be damned if I give it to the wrong guy."
"Yes. That would be crime. Well, I‟m…amazed and
shocked." Dmitry shook his head. "It explains a lot, and
yet…nothing makes sense."
"Well, I wouldn‟t spend too much time thinking about
it, if I were you. It‟s not going to change anytime soon."
"Of course not." Dmitry smiled innocently, but inwardly
a raging fire boiled inside of him. Royal was a virgin.
The words caused a small stir. The thought of taking her
would be ever present in his head now, he was sure of it.
Royal felt as though she had said far too much. Dmitry
became quiet, thinking probably about how much of a girl
she was - so very young and inexperienced. But as far as
she was concerned, that was not at all true.
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51
The only thing that kept her from carrying the title of
woman in a lot of people‟s eyes was the fact that she was yet
a virgin.
To her, that made her more of a woman. Self-control
was not an easy beast to tame, but she did so, even if
sometimes begrudgingly.
Royal‟s virginity had been the topic of many conversations
before Dmitry, but her status had never changed.
Every man seemed to have one thing on his mind. To take
it, but not to keep her. She did not want to end up unloved
again, only this time with nothing to show for it. And it
seemed that every time that she exposed her secret, she felt
like she was a leper.
People had looked at her like something was wrong
with her her entire life, jealous that they had given theirs
away and had chosen poorly. She had lost so many opportunities
with young college men because of her fear of going
all the way. She was not afraid of the act, just the aftermath.
She knew very well what it felt like to be all alone and
rejected, she didn‟t need to amplify it. The thought infuriated
her now. She bit her lip and grunted slightly.
"Ugh. This silence is going to make me sick at the stomach,"
she said finally. "I didn‟t tell you that I had AIDS,
Dmitry. Please don‟t act like that."
"Act like what?" He looked up at her oblivious of her
mood change.
"Like I‟m not normal," Royal sighed.
Dmitry put down his fork and smiled. "But you‟re not
normal. You are better," he said trying to focus. "Alright.
Alright. We‟ll talk about something else."
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It was nearly four in the morning when Dmitry‟s car
pulled behind Royal‟s building beside her little red Honda
Accord. He had chosen to drive her home himself after the
movie.
Anatoly was finally allowed to go home and get some
rest. The rain had stopped and the skies were clear, allowing
the stars and moon to shine brightly down on them.
Crickets chirped and dew fell on the grass. The wind blew
through the night, refreshing and full of force. Royal
yawned and sat up in the seat, hitting the button to let up
her window as she did so.
"I had fun," she said rubbing her eyes. "Did you?" She
looked over at him, relaxed in his seat and looking over at
her curiously.
"It was theeee most civilized date that I‟ve been on in
many years," he said, opening the door of his car, but not
answering the question.
He walked around to her side and helped her out carefully.
She stood up in front of him and smiled. Dmitry‟s
height continued to leave her in awe as well as the enormous
size of his well-sculpted body, but what was most
amazing to her was that in the dead of summer, he wore
long shirts.
He looked down at her, gazing into her bright brown
eyes.
"So you were bored out of your mind?" she asked. "Or
did you have fun."
"Dah, dah, I had fun with you, shop girl," he said, finally.
He moved in closer to her body.
"You‟ve got a five o‟clock shadow," she said, touching
his stubby beard, and only inches from his bulging chest.
She had to say something to break the ever-growing desire
to kiss him.
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53
"I‟ve been up since day before yesterday. Guess I
should get some sleep." Reaching behind her body, he
closed the door and grabbed her hand, escorting her up the
back steps of the building.
Exhausted, Royal fumbled for a minute, then opened
the door with her key. Its jingling chain echoed throughout
the small parking lot. Dmitry walked in after her, checking
the place as he heard her small feet creep up the back
staircase to her suite. When he was sure that they were
alone, he walked up behind her. She was standing in the
doorway of her apartment waiting for him with a soft smile
and an innocent glow.
He swaggered over to her, stopped at the doorway and
leaned liked normal against the threshold.
"Promise me that you won‟t work tomorrow. I want
you to rest," he said, looking down at her breasts. It was
odd to him that they had never been suckled as succulent as
they seemed. He found that his mouth watered just at the
thought of what they must taste like. He looked back up at
her with a grin. He knew that she could tell what he was
thinking.
"I‟ll rest. Promise." She sighed, then yawned - very
happy at the moment. She knew now that he would try to
kiss her, and she braced herself for it, hoping to make it
through.
"This is the part of date where you invite me inside of
your home, and I rip you apart under the sheets," he
whispered jokingly. His icy eyes looked directly into hers
causing a funny thump of her heart.
"Sorry, I‟ll have to pass." Royal‟s voice was soft and
sweet. She pivoted on her feet a little, trying to gain inches
on her tip toes.
"I‟m not surprised, now that I know your secret."
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"Enough with that," Royal gawked, dismissing his new
fascination with her sexual status.
"Alright, alright." His voice became softer.
Stepping closer to her, Dmitry reached out and pulled
her by her small waist into his body. His large hands
caressed her warm body and searched for bare skin. She
looked up at him and wrapped her arms around his lower
back, then closed her eyes.
Tenderly, Dmitry leaned over and kissed Royal on the
top of her forehead. Ever so softly his full lips caressed her
caramel skin. He breathed in, taking in the scent of her
body. It took everything in him not to lift her up, carry her
across her threshold and make love to her. Having never
been told no or wait, he was no good at being obedient. He
desired her more than anything; he wanted her so badly
until it was physically painful for him to release her. Soon,
he thought to himself.
Evidently, even she was expecting much more. She
opened her wide eyes, surprised by his choice and exhaled.
Royal could nearly read his eyes. It was if he was telling her
that he had to stop. She understood but didn‟t want him
to…so she thought.
With a nod, he headed back down the stairwell quietly,
leaving her unspoiled and in the safety of her home. He
owed her that since Woodrow Conners had tried to take it
from her.
In a daze, Royal leaned against the door flabbergasted.
Just when she suspected that he would strike like a villain,
he behaved like a gentleman.
When Dmitry heard the door, he smiled and shook his
head. "Royal is virgin," he sang aloud, smiling to himself,
happy that he had discovered such a treasure.