Russian's Ruthless Demand

by Michelle Conder

  The men threw her a curious glance because they all knew she hadn’t touched one of the vodka shots they had ordered. ‘Besides,’ she added quickly before one of them took it upon himself to correct her, ‘I wasn’t aware that I had to account for my time twenty-four hours a day.’

  ‘You do if it impacts the opening of my ice hotel,’ he said grimly.

  Right now she wanted to tell him to shove his ice hotel. ‘Lucky this doesn’t.’

  She noticed a muscle work in his jaw and was pleased she had irritated him because he was certainly irritating her!

  ‘Tell me,’ he grated silkily, ‘was your sister pleased to find out that Harrington’s name will be on the front of the hotel?’

  Eleanore angled her chin up. ‘As a matter of fact she was.’

  ‘And did you also tell her how you got it there?’

  ‘Oh!’ Unable to hide her shocked gasp, hot colour streaked across her cheekbones.

  Greg glanced warily between the two of them and said something to Lukas in a placating tone and it made her feel even more like a fool. ‘Mr Kuznetskov?’ she interrupted Greg. ‘Is there something you wanted because otherwise we’d like to continue our meeting?’

  ‘I want an update on my hotel.’

  ‘I should be free tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Now.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m busy now.’

  Lukas turned toward the men and spoke to them in Russian. Incensed Eleanore grabbed his forearm and felt the corded muscles tense beneath her fingertips. ‘What did you just say to them?’

  His eyes drilled into hers like ice blue chips. ‘I just told them this meeting is over.’

  ‘How dare you!’ she rasped under her breath.

  ‘It is okay, Eleanore.’ Dominic pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a few ruble. ‘I think I know what it is that you want with the lighting. How about we meet tomorrow afternoon at the hotel and I will show you what I propose.’

  Lukas told Dominic that he would pick up the tab and Eleanore didn’t care that it was a nice gesture. Banking her anger she thanked the men and waved them off, leaving her and Lukas alone in the noisy bar.

  Lukas pushed his jacket open as he shoved his hands on his hips, leaning toward her. ‘I went to three bars before I found you here.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Eleanore fumed. ‘A medal or a chest to pin it on?’

  They glared at each other. ‘I want you to focus on my hotel and not the men working on it.’

  ‘I can see why your last architect quit,’ she fumed, absolute fury making her insides quake. ‘You’re a control freak.’

  She made to push past him but he laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Do not touch me. And do not question me. I’m off the clock right now.’ She pointed her finger at him. ‘How dare you come in here and treat me like some wayward child and undermine my authority. This was a business meeting between me and my site managers and you completely undermined my authority.’

  ‘At the slightest encouragement either one of those men would have shown you more than lighting options and sculpting ideas.’

  ‘What?’ Disbelief coursed through her. ‘I can’t believe you just said that!’ she seethed.

  Lukas couldn’t believe he’d just said it either. It was as if the vision of Eleanore leaning over the pool table in her tight skirt and those black stilettos with the red ankle straps had fried his brain. But more than that it drove him crazy just thinking about her with someone else.

  ‘You’re nothing but a sexist chauvinist who has the hormonal intelligence of a teenage boy. Or not even.’ She looked like she was getting ready to punch him. ‘That’s an insult to teenage boys!’

  ‘And you’re a pampered princess too used to people bowing and scraping to your every need.’ It wasn’t true and Lukas knew it even as he said it. She worked far too hard and cared far too much about the job to be the princess type. Still, he wasn’t a sexist chauvinist either although he would agree that right now he had the emotional intelligence of a teenage boy.

  ‘Me!’

  She threw him a filthy look and he just wanted to kiss the snarl from her lips.

  ‘If anyone here is used to people bowing and scraping it’s you. Splashing your money around, making rude comments when it suits you, threatening people.’

  ‘Threatening people? Who have I threatened?’

  ‘Me! When you told me you’d go to the Chatsfields if I didn’t agree to work for you.’

  He laughed. What else could he do? ‘If you’re so paranoid about the Chatsfields that’s your problem, and as for you working for me, I think you love it.’

  She stepped closer to him and he caught a whiff of apples. O Bozhe, but he loved apples. ‘I think you’re deluded so...’

  Later Lukas would tell himself he wasn’t the type to grab a woman in a public bar even if they were near a darkened corner—later when he was asking himself a lot of questions. Right now he was fed up with her mouthiness. Fed up with the overpowering need to touch her that had driven him to behave like a fool in front of his men and so he did what he’d wanted to do again all week. He bent his head and captured her mouth with his own.

  As soon as his lips touched hers reality receded and took every one of his brain cells with it. Especially when instead of pushing him away as he expected her to do she curled her small hands into the front of his jacket and pulled him in even closer.

  She kissed him back as if she’d been dreaming of him as much as he had of her and all his reasons for staying away from her just dissolved in a puddle of need. He widened her mouth with his and thrust his tongue deep, mating with hers—all his frustration and irritation and anger of the past week pouring out of him and into that kiss.

  Only half aware that they were in a crowded bar, Lukas pushed his hands beneath the hem of her red shirt and caressed the silky skin of her waist. She was soft and pliant and she just seemed to melt into him, her breasts thrusting toward his chest and grazing the hard wall of his abdomen. Growling deep in his throat Lukas slid one hand around to her butt and cupped her, raising her onto her toes so he could settle the weight of his aching erection between the cradle of her thighs.

  She let out a breathy little moan and the sound was like the time he’d thrown gunpowder on a bin fire and nearly burnt himself alive. He just went up in flames and his greedy mouth slid down the slender column of her neck and lapped at her honeyed skin.

  ‘Poluchit’ nomer!’ A gruff voice called from behind him, laughing.

  Get a room?

  Bozhe!

  Pulling back Lukas waited for Eleanore’s glazed eyes to open before he let her go. He needed to adjust the front of his pants but fortunately the lighting of the bar was low enough that he hoped he got away without doing so. ‘I’m going to pick up your tab. Wait here.’

  Dazed, Eleanore stared after Lukas’s broad back as he wound his way through the crowd of people. She touched her tongue to her kiss-swollen lips and glanced around. A few men near the pool table gave her suggestive looks and she wanted to die of embarrassment. How had she gone from anger to passion in the space of seconds?

  And what was she doing waiting here like a good girl for Lukas to come back and get her? The man had just proven that he was the egotistical arrogant jackass that she knew him to be. And she wouldn’t kiss him again if her life depended on it!

  Furious with herself and with him and completely unnerved by the strength of her response to him, not to mention the tingling sensation that remained from where he’d pressed his so-large-it-had-to-be-fake erection between her thighs, she didn’t wait to see where he was but rushed out of the bar.

  It was dark even though it must have been barely six o’clock and a blast of cold air bit into her face and scythed the thoughts from her head.
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  Digging into her pocket for her gloves and hat she realised that she had left the beautiful coat Lukas had chosen for her back on the shelf near the pool table. Not that she cared. So what if he’d chosen something she loved. Arrogant ass. She didn’t need it anyway. Much.

  She peered down the street in search of a cab but saw only a stream of evening traffic and a bunch of pedestrians hurrying in and out of shops. Remembering that they had visited this particular bar last because it was close to her apartment building she took a second to get her bearings. Then she saw a shoe store she had been meaning to investigate and knew which direction she needed to go and headed along the snow-covered pavement toward the sanctuary of her apartment.

  She only wished she’d remembered to change into sensible boots before leaving the office earlier. After the sultry heat of Singapore it was fair to say she still hadn’t adjusted to the wintery conditions in St Petersburg.

  Five minutes, she decided, and she’d be home and she’d thaw out under a hot shower. That decided she tucked her chin into her suit jacket and quickened her pace.

  Within a block she realised she’d turned the wrong way down a quieter street and pivoted on her heel to backtrack only to hear the faint mewling of a young child down an alleyway. Or was it an animal?

  Immediately wary of the darkness she peered into the alley and saw a small kitten not too far down clawing at the snow as if it was trapped between two garbage cans. ‘Oh, you poor darling. It’s okay.’ She didn’t even think twice before she approached the pathetic little thing and crouched down so as not to scare it. She saw immediately that one of its back legs was wrapped in string.

  It was so tiny and it was shivering with cold, its fur all matted and wet. Reaching forward she gripped the scruff of its neck so that it didn’t bite her and tugged on the string. It came away easily in her hand and she only realised why when a dark shape rose up from behind the garbage cans and reached out for her. Instinctively Eleanore grabbed the kitten close and fell backward onto the dirty snow, screaming as the plastic garbage can fell on top of her, spewing out its contents.

  Struggling to sit up she just made out the dirty face of a young kid as he leapt over the garbage and grabbed her arm. Thinking he was about to hit her Eleanore screamed again and raised her free hand and realised that he was pulling at the straps of her handbag. Suddenly there was the sound of heavy footsteps running toward them and with one almighty yank that nearly ripped her shoulder from its socket her assailant was off her. She heard him scrambling beside her in the snow and then he took off around a narrow opening between the buildings.

  Not waiting to see if the person who had come to her aid was a friend or a foe, Eleanore clutched the petrified kitten that was scratching at her jacket and rolled to a crouched position as all the self-defence instructions she’d learned a couple of years ago—but had never had reason to use—came flooding back.

  A male swore above her as he pulled her to her feet and Eleanore sagged with relief. ‘Lukas! Oh, my God. You scared the life out of me.’

  ‘I did!’ he roared. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  She remembered her anger at him from the bar and it warred with her fear. ‘Walking home.’

  ‘Down an alley!’

  ‘No. There was a kitten...’ Saying it out loud sounded dumb even to her own ears but Eleanore had never been able to walk past an injured animal or a crying child without stopping. She remembered all too well what it was like to feel alone in the world and she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. Feeling the kitten tremble against her she eased her grip on the poor thing and cuddled it against her jacket to reassure it.

  ‘Let me guess,’ Lukas spat. ‘It was tied to the bin.’

  Eleanore’s eyes widened. ‘Has it happened to you as well?’

  ‘No.’ He reached down to pick up a dark shape from the ground. ‘I’ve done it before.’

  ‘What?’

  The dark shape turned out to be her beloved overcoat and he wasn’t gentle as he bundled it around her shoulders. ‘Of all the gullible, idiotic things to do...’ He shook his head. ‘I told you earlier that St Petersburg wasn’t the wonderland you think it is and why in hell didn’t you wait for me to take you home?’

  ‘Because I don’t want you to take me home.’ But now that she’d had time to process what had actually happened her anger toward him wasn’t quite as strong as it had been back at the bar. ‘Thank you for helping me,’ she said stiffly.

  His face was all harsh angles and shadows as he glared down at her in the dim light. ‘Don’t thank me. I’m too angry. You could have ended up dead. Are you hurt?’ he added gruffly.

  ‘No. Thankfully he was only a kid. At least I think he was a kid.’

  ‘They can be worse than the adults,’ Lukas said grimly. ‘More desperate and much more unpredictable. Come, my car is waiting at the kerb. Can you walk?’

  ‘Of course.’ Relief that he’d come after her made her feel weak and for once she didn’t argue.

  He held the back door of the Mercedes open for her. ‘Get in.’

  She cradled the kitten inside her overcoat as she did as he asked.

  Lukas followed her into the car and glowered at the lump on her chest from the opposite seat. ‘What are you planning to do with that thing?’

  ‘She’s not a thing and I can’t leave her in the snow. She’ll die.’

  ‘Survival of the fittest, Eleanore, it’s what makes the world go round.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  The look he gave her said he thought she was an idiot. And maybe she was. She was certainly a lucky one even though she was pretty sure she would have been all right if the kid had managed to take her bag but she was also glad she didn’t have to test the theory.

  ‘Will I have to file a police report?’

  Lukas turned his brooding expression back from the window. ‘There are over sixteen thousand street kids in St Petersburg and you just fell for one of the oldest tricks on the streets so there’s not much point.’

  ‘Sixteen thousand!’ She frowned. ‘How do you know how many street kids there are in the city?’ She would have no idea if asked the same question in New York.

  The Mercedes pulled up outside her apartment building and Lukas helped her out while his driver held the door, his breath fogging in front of his face.

  Eleanore’s legs didn’t seem to want to work properly and he must have read her mind because he firmed his grip beneath her elbow. She wondered if he’d make some reference to feminists or her brainlessness but he remained big and silent beside her until they reached her door.

  ‘Keys.’

  ‘Lukas, really...’

  ‘If you know what’s good for you you’ll stop arguing with me and give me the keys.’

  Exasperated by his harsh tone and grudgingly glad of his help at the same time Eleanore handed over her handbag. How she found someone so bossy and so controlling so utterly attractive was beyond rational thought. It just went to show that you couldn’t trust hormones.

  ‘You might want to go and change.’

  Eleanore looked down and realised that her skirt and stockings were caked with mud from the melted snow and dirt and that she smelt like garbage. ‘I have to take care of the kitten.’

  He pulled a disgusted face. ‘Give it to me.’

  ‘What are you going to do with her?’

  He lifted the spitting, mewling creature from her arms and it looked tiny as he brought it up to his wide chest. ‘Not much. It’s too small to turn into a hat.’

  ‘A hat! You wouldn’t...’ She stopped. Looked at him. ‘You’re teasing me,’ she realised with a start.

  ‘I’m going to put it in the utility room.’ His gaze raked over her. ‘You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re not hurt?’

  �
�No.’ But she felt cold. All over. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

  ‘Too late for that.’ He waved her away. ‘Go take a shower. I’ll take care of this flea bag you insist on keeping.’

  Half an hour later and dressed in leggings and an oversize sweatshirt she came back to find Lukas wiping up water on the black-and-white tiles on the kitchen floor. Almost immediately she realised it wasn’t water he was cleaning up. ‘Was that the kitten?’

  He glanced up at her. ‘It certainly wasn’t me.’

  A grin split her face at his pretended chagrin and she stifled a laugh. ‘I’m sorry. I could have taken care of that.’

  He dumped the soggy paper towels in the trash and washed his hands in the sink. ‘I’ve cleaned up worse.’

  A fleeting moment of utter bleakness clouded his face and she immediately wanted to know what had put it there. Somehow she didn’t think it was her, although perhaps she had made it worse... ‘You’re still angry with me,’ she said.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  She sighed. ‘I don’t regret it but what if I admit that what I did was stupid?’

  ‘That’s just agreeing with me. Kids on the street are desperate. They’ll do anything for money.’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Da, anything.’

  The look in his eyes was hard and edgy and she remembered his comment in the alleyway about the trick she’d fallen for. ‘No, I’ve done it before.’

  Had he spent his childhood on the streets? The idea seemed ludicrous given how well-spoken he was, how cultured, but it would explain that air of danger all the well-made suits in the world couldn’t eradicate and it would also explain why there was very little information on him prior to when he was twenty-five and had burst onto the international scene with a rusty fleet of container ships he’d turned into a multimillion-dollar concern by the time he was thirty. Now he seemed to have his hand in everything from ships to shoeshine products and whatever he touched turned to gold.