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All The Way

Page 2

by Tricia Jones


  That knowledge, more than his demands, made her feel wretched. She couldn’t help it. She was an idiot around Nikolai and always had been. Probably always would be. She wanted him. Still.

  Grace slipped her hand inside his opened fly and was about to curl her fingers around his erection when he grabbed her wrist and gave a scornful laugh. He jerked her up onto his lap again. “I wondered how far you would be prepared to go, angel. It seems I have my answer.”

  Her face burned with temper and embarrassment. “You bastard. All this so you could score some points?”

  “You mistake my meaning. I merely make an observation, one that confirms you are prepared to sell your body to me.”

  “I’m not prepared to sell my body, not to you or anyone. You’re giving me no other choice.”

  “Semantics.” He waved it away with the hand that wasn’t holding fast to her wrist. “The outcome is the same.”

  Grace knew this wasn’t going to end well. He had no intention of helping her; all he wanted was some sort of morbid payback. With nauseous despondency she tried to slip from his lap, but he held her hips, anchoring her. “We have unfinished business.”

  She took his double entendre. “No, we don’t. My coming here was a mistake and I probably should have my head examined. You’ve had your fun, got a little bit of payback by humiliating me. Why don’t you—”

  “You sold me out. Do you think a simple blow job will make up for that?”

  When she turned her head away he grasped her chin between his forefinger and thumb and brought her back to face him. “I told you I bore no grudges. I lied. You owe me, Grace. You want something from me, I want something from you.” Fury shone in his eyes, darkening the blue, and the tension that whipped through his body was almost a visible thing. “You’ll pay. Or you’ll get out now.”

  Grace angled her head to shake off his hold. “Why did you stop me?” she asked flatly. “One time only, you said. One mindless act. It doesn’t matter to you and it certainly doesn’t matter to me.” She’d make sure it didn’t matter. “So make up your mind, Nikolai.”

  When the intercom buzzed, Grace had the disturbing feeling that someone was listening in and had taken their cue to interrupt at that very moment.

  Irritated, Nikolai stabbed his finger on the intercom button. “Da?”

  The voice of his assistant came through crisp and efficient. “I know you said no interruptions, sir, but your lawyers are waiting in the conference room.” After a few moments silence, she prompted, “The Alabash project? The meeting you arranged to—”

  “Da.” He shook his head. “Of course. Tell them I will be there immediately.”

  He released the button, eased Grace from his lap but kept hold of her arm as he reached across the desk for a business card and pen. “It seems we must delay our tryst. Tonight. Eight o’clock.” He scribbled on the back of the card, then stood and thrust it out to her. “Ask for Leo. He will bring you to me.”

  Her body as heavy as a marble statue, Grace watched Nikolai tidy his jacket and rearrange his trousers. Seconds ago he was heavily aroused, yet now he was back to being the consummate businessman.

  As he headed for the door he scooped up her blouse and skirt, tossing them at her where she stood. “Get dressed,” he snapped, as if removing her clothes had been her idea. “And tonight, wear something a little more…enticing.”

  She stared at the door as he closed it behind him, then squeezed her eyes shut. Once more she questioned her sanity coming to him.

  No choice, she reminded herself as she quickly dressed. No other option. Nikolai was the only one who’d know where to look.

  Thankfully, his assistant was away from her desk as Grace left. In the street she sucked in air like she’d been suffocating in some deep, dark tunnel for the past thirty minutes. The day was turning overcast, the oppressive July heat bearing down like an unwanted lover. How appropriate Grace thought as she headed toward the nearest metro station. She’d gone willingly into Nikolai’s arms for the best part of six months, yet now he was even more a stranger to her than he had been during their affair. An intense and private man, but he’d always been considerate. There was no sign of that trait in the man she’d encountered today, only a seething mass of resentment and hate. Fair enough, she supposed, seeing how in his words she’d “sold him out.”

  She pushed the memories away, refusing to dwell on that dark time. The present gave her enough to worry about without searching for more angst.

  Leah.

  The mental image of Nikolai was superimposed by that of her headstrong sister; the main reason she’d walked out on him two years previously. Grace had been concerned how her relationship with Nikolai had impacted her younger sibling. She hadn’t wanted Leah contaminated by a world of hushed telephone calls and private meetings, which Grace feared skirted the edges of the law. Nikolai had always kept Grace on the periphery of his life, had never shared, never discussed—personal or business, it made no difference. She knew he was a man capable of anything and she half admired, half feared his ruthlessness, his edge. He never compromised. Never gave up.

  Those very qualities were exactly what she needed now. She could only pray he would use them to help find her sister.

  Chapter Two

  Nikolai refused to dwell on the possibility he’d been less than honorable in his dealings with Grace. She’d thrown him to the wolves. She’d lied, schemed and simply walked away when it was over.

  Now she had to take what he dealt.

  If he’d humiliated her. Good. If he’d treated her like dirt. Excellent. She could consider herself lucky he’d let her off so lightly. Despite what the witch chose to believe about him, despite what she’d done to him, he was a reasonable man.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and tucked the navy polo shirt into the waistband of his tailored trousers. The ultra-efficient air conditioning in the DeMira Club whispered around the opulence of the suite he kept there. Since he’d moved his base to Paris, he used the suite for business meetings that required discretion. The Club’s impeccable security was an added benefit.

  He’d had a similar arrangement in London, but had never brought Grace there. During their affair she’d come to his home. He was never welcome in hers.

  “Shall I arrange for dinner to be served shortly after the lady arrives, Monsieur Kernov?”

  Nikolai turned to find Leo watching in his usual attentive way. The man seemed to slip in and out of thin air, but could always be relied upon to be discreet. “No. We’ll have cocktails first. We’ll eat at nine.”

  Leo inclined his head and with a last check of the wine chilling in a silver bucket, slipped noiselessly away.

  At the window, Nikolai perused the growling sky. Paris in the heat of summer was never pleasant—humid, hot and invariably oppressive. The one consolation was that most Parisians traveled south during the summer break, which left the city weirdly quiet. He should have vacated the place himself, joining his adopted countrymen in Nice, Cannes or Monte Carlo, but the Alabash project had taken a few irritating turns and he wanted to be on hand to volley unnecessary delays and diversions.

  He could do with a diversion himself. Nanette had told him as much the last time she’d left his bed. Apparently, he was a workaholic, his mind fixed on nothing but business, profit and adding to his millions. She seemed to forget that those millions had given her a very nice lifestyle for the six weeks she’d been his lover.

  As he continued to stare out across the Parisian skyline, Nikolai huffed a laugh. Nanette hated when he referred to her as his lover. She preferred mistress, or even better, wife. Which was why he was currently giving her a wide berth. He’d sent her off to some spa in the Swiss Alps, largely with the excuse that he had an intricate business deal coming off that required all his time and attention. In his defense, the Alabash deal was commanding the major part of his attention, but he could have squeezed in the odd couple of hours relaxation with the sultry Nanette.

  Thing was,
she simply wasn’t doing it for him any longer. He wondered if she was right and he was obsessed with work, although he’d never had a problem before. Business and sex had always been his staple diet.

  He ran his hand over his head. God. Maybe he was getting old.

  He swung around at the tap on the door and watched Grace step into the room. Behind her, Leo gave a discreet nod and closed the door as he left.

  Desire spiked so hard, for a moment Nikolai couldn’t move. How was it she could stir this in him after what she’d done? Was he insane that he could want her again so greedily? He’d thought of little else since she’d stepped into his office. Was helpless to ignore the memory of her standing before him half naked, the feel of her moving against him. Govno! So much for getting old. One look at her and he felt like a stallion.

  He let his gaze roam over her curves as she stood inches from the closed door. Her hair, dark and silky, fell to her shoulders and emphasized her heart-shaped face. Her flushed cheeks told him he unnerved her, while her slightly open mouth, so full and inviting, hinted at uncertainty.

  As he continued to stare at her, his desire snapped to irritation. She’d dressed deliberately to provoke him—and not in a good way.

  The simple white shirt was buttoned to the neck, a thin black scarf looped around the collar. The wide-legged black slacks flowed effortlessly around her legs as she walked toward him.

  “Good evening, Nikolai,” she said briskly, snapping open the small clutch bag she carried and pulling out a piece of paper. “If you recall I asked for your help. This is how much I can pay you.”

  Nikolai refused to glance at the paper she held up for his perusal and kept his gaze firmly on hers. “If you recall, money isn’t my price.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “It’s all I’m willing to offer.”

  As her gaze lifted to his in challenge, he banked down his escalating irritation. “Then why are you still standing there, milaya? You know the way to the door. I’ll ask Leo to call you a taxi.”

  “I need your help.”

  He ignored the catch in her voice, the hint of desperation in her tone. “And I’m willing to give it.”

  Her chin shot up, aiming those full lips in his direction. “But I have to take off my clothes.”

  “And the rest.”

  She threw her bag on the sofa and walked to the window where he’d earlier been musing. “God, Nikolai. Nothing changes, does it?”

  “There is no reason for anything to change. You came to me. I didn’t summon you.”

  “There are a dozen ways I can pay for your help, but you have to take things to the basest level.”

  “There was a time you enjoyed having sex with me. A time when it was hardly so distasteful to you.”

  “There was a time you didn’t treat me like a whore.”

  Ah, so she could still wound him with a single well-directed arrow to his gut. It speared through him now, doing its piercing best to make contact with the small part of him that fought to remain honorable.

  “You’re wasting my time. Tell me what you want, agree to my price, or get out.”

  “Leah’s missing.”

  Halfway to the drinks cabinet, Nikolai stopped. He should have guessed. Only one person would drive Grace back to him, to ask anything of him. Her younger sister. Slowly, he turned, taking the time to push back any reaction to the plea he would see in her hazel eyes. “How long?”

  She clasped her hands together, wrung them jerkily. “Four days now.”

  He thought of the petulant fourteen-year-old who’d known every string to pull around Grace and had no compunction in doing so.

  “All I’ve had is one text.” Grace went to get her bag from the sofa. “The day she went missing she sent me a text saying she was going on holiday and that she’d contact me again soon.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it seems you have your answer. No need for concern.”

  “For God’s sake, Niko. She’s barely sixteen. And I know who she’s with.”

  He heard real fear mixed with sisterly concern. “Who?” Except he already knew. Some instinct had kicked in the moment she’d told him about Leah.

  “Pavel.”

  Venom flooded his chest at the mention of the man he had once considered his brother. “Impossible.”

  “I found an email she sent to a friend.” Grace dug into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “She said she was leaving with P, that he’d come for her after all this time, just as he’d promised he would.”

  She thrust the email at Nikolai. This time he took the paper and read the words she had quoted verbatim.

  “Any other communication?”

  “No. Nothing. I went to the police, but they said they can’t do anything. They said girls that age often run off with their boyfriends.” She shuddered in a breath. “I’ve got this awful feeling…”

  He refused to comfort her. Refused to be swayed by the eyes that had once so easily pulled him under and made him unable to think straight. Hadn’t she thrown him to the wolves?

  As she took another step toward him, he turned and walked to the drinks trolley. He didn’t want her close. Didn’t want her scent flooding his senses. “There’s no reason to believe she’s with Pavel. It’s been two years. Most of your concerns at the time were not based in fact, but in assumption and projection.”

  “You know that’s not true. He sniffed around her for weeks and she was infatuated with him. She never forgave me for telling him to leave her alone.”

  Nikolai poured peach brandy into elegant cocktail glasses. “Have you any reason to believe he’s made contact?”

  “No.” He thought she’d refuse the drink he offered, but then she tentatively took it from him. “At least, I can’t find anything. I spoke to her friend, the one who received the email, and she said Leah only ever referred to the man as P. That Leah said he was foreign and very good looking.” She sipped her drink, closed her eyes as she swallowed. “It’s him, Niko. We both know it.”

  Da. He knew it. It was exactly what Pavel would do to get even.

  “I’ll make some calls.”

  She wrapped both hands around her glass, closed her eyes again. “Thank you.”

  “I make no promises.”

  She met his gaze. “I understand that, but thank you anyway. I really appreciate this.”

  He gave her what he hoped was an insultingly slow perusal. “You can show your appreciation later, when we have established that Pavel Baletsky is still rotting in a Russian prison.”

  Her face, already pale, turned deathly white. “In prison?”

  “Why does that surprise you? We both know what he’s capable of.”

  The glass jerked in her hand, spilling peach brandy onto the ivory carpet. “Oh…God.”

  Nikolai grabbed the glass and caught her as she stumbled. Her head lolled against his chest as he led her to the nearest sofa and when she sat he raised the glass to her colorless lips. “Drink,” he ordered, pressing the glass to her lips when she tried to push it away. “Drink, dammit.”

  She took a gulp, winced, then coughed and spluttered.

  “Drink some more.” He held the glass as she sipped, cursing himself for an idiot. He should have kept quiet about Pavel’s incarceration. It would serve little purpose to worry her more at this stage, especially when his real concern should be finding out why and if Pavel had actually been released.

  Steadier now, she turned to him. “What… Why was he in prison?”

  Did he lie? Make up some lesser charge to put her at ease? One look at her and he knew that he would lie to the devil himself if it stripped the worry from her eyes.

  “Embezzlement.” He shrugged as if it were nothing. “A few other charges.”

  It seemed to calm her a little. “She’s with him, Niko. I know it.”

  “I’ll make that call. Here.” He took her fingers and curled them around the glass. “Finish this. I won’t be long.”

  Grace watched as he strode away a
nd disappeared into another room. He shut the door, an indication that his contact was likely an under-the-radar source. For once, she didn’t care. During her time with him, she’d witnessed many such calls and had learned not to ask questions. He could pull strings, especially the less salubrious ones. He could open doors that were closed to most. She knew he had secrets. That he was dangerous, unpredictable and driven.

  Yet there was nobody else she wanted in her corner when the chips were down.

  On one level she feared him. Oh, not physically, she’d never worried for her safety and knew he would never hurt her. During their affair there’d been some pretty volatile arguments, which always culminated in some equally volatile sex. He was demanding, but never cruel. Tough, but never vicious. Grace knew that through the hard exterior there was tenderness, an edge of caring that was concrete and real. Off guard, she’d sensed that in him and had wished with all her heart she could crack the wall that imprisoned that part of his nature.

  Her fears were for her heart, her sanity. One look at him, one moment with him, and her own protective wall had crumbled to nothing. He was still the only man who had ever come close to capturing her heart, the only man who could so easily shatter that heart into fragments so tiny she feared for her very existence.

  Which was stupid. It wasn’t as if they ever really shared anything, other than his bed. The world in which he existed was closed to her, out of bounds. Without any real knowledge of his activities and the people he came into contact with, Grace could only rely on her imagination to paint a picture and that picture grew murkier until she knew there could never be any sort of future with him. Her concerns had escalated when Pavel Baletsky took an interest in Leah.

  Grace sipped the drink. Oh God. She had to find her sister. If she was with Pavel, then everything Grace had done two years ago was for nothing. Leah was her responsibility. She’d made a promise, a vow. It was the only thing her father had ever asked of her, the only time he’d made her feel like she was useful, important. She’d been an inconvenience to her late parents, an unwanted and unnecessary blip as they’d forged their illustrious careers.

 

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