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for a Brazilian. "Holy shit, that smarts," I yelped, as she ripped the wax off.
                    "We have to suffer to be beautiful for our men," she trilled cheerfully, "you can't stop now honey, you'd be lopsided." I looked down. One side was bald, the other, like an overgrown hedge.
                    "Go for it," I said, gritting my teeth. The next time I looked, she was trimming a little landing strip. It looked bizarre.
                    "No hot baths, swimming, tight clothes or sex for the next 24 hours please. You don't want infected follicles."
                    I dressed, and walked back to reception. Ivan had booked himself a massage while I was being tortured, and looked relaxed and happy. "My place or yours for dinner? We can take something in or get it delivered."
                    "I don't mind," I said, "wherever you like."
                    "Can we have dinner at mine tonight? I've not seen the girls all day."
                    "Sure." We went down to the food hall and Ivan picked out some Moroccan food, flatbreads, and some patisserie, and laden with goodies, we headed back to the docklands.
    Ivan's apartment was enormous. It was the penthouse to a large block, slightly further down the river from mine, and had a large outside terrace, albeit one with very high, Perspex edging.
    "Bulletproof, and dog proof," Ivan explained. Bella and Tania were overjoyed to see him, jumping all over him as soon as he sat down. He gave each of them a kiss, before switching the oven on to heat up our food, and pouring two glasses of wine.
                    "Where did your guards go?" I asked.
                    "Security room, and the floor below is where they live when they're off duty. It's still heavily protected here. Gotta keep my girls safe, eh girls?" They both wagged their tails, and gazed at him with devotion.
                    We ate outside on the terrace. It was a beautiful summer evening, one of those where the river shimmered, and the air hung heavy and still. After the madness of my week, it was like an oasis of calm. The dogs sat our feet, playing with rawhide bones, and Ivan put Adele on the music system.
                    He told me stories of growing up in Moscow, tales of such hardship and destitution that my heart clenched for him. He described the arduous journey to England, and the difficulties he had when he got here. It felt as though he was baring himself to me, showing me the man inside the pretty packaging, and asking me to understand him.
                    In turn, I told him about growing up on the estate, of not fitting in, and of my desperate desire to escape. I told him my fears of never being good enough, of being poor, and the lengths I went to, in order to cover up my lack of sophistication.
                    "Let me hold you, beautiful girl," he said, holding his arms out for me. I sank into his warm embrace, and breathed in his lovely scent. He felt solid and strong, as if he could keep me safe forever. He pulled me onto his lap, and just held me, one hand lightly caressing my spine, as we sat in a strange embrace.
                    "Please let me kiss you," he whispered, pulling back from me slightly so he could look at me. I gazed into his sapphire eyes for a moment, before closing mine, and leaning forward to gently graze his soft, full lips with mine.
                    Our kisses were light and soft at first, before growing firmer and deeper. His tongue pushed into my mouth to meet mine, shyly at first, growing bolder, until he was claiming full control of my mouth, kissing me hard, as his tongue stroked mine. His hands roamed over my shoulders, and down my spine, sending a delicious shiver right through my body which ended in my groin.
                    "Are you cold baby?" He