The Petrov Proposal

by Maisey Yates

  She managed to make the smile reappear. “Of course it’s no problem, Mr. Petrov. I’ll liaise with Jacob and see that it’s done.”

  He cut her off. “I want this collection displayed to its best effect.”

  “Naturally, but I was just concerned because they’re one of a kind pieces.”

  He laughed dryly. “I’m aware of that, Madeline, I did create them.”

  “I think the whole world is aware of that.” Tension was making her snippy, and she needed to relax.

  But this was the first collection Aleksei had designed in six years. All of the other collections that had come out of Petrova Gems in the past few years had been by his stable of very highly regarded designers. And every piece designed, or, even better, fashioned by Aleksei, went for millions of dollars at auctions.

  That meant media. Lots, and lots of media.

  Work was her safety, work was where she was confident, where she excelled. But this was going to be huge beyond anything she’d dealt with before. And she and the press weren’t exactly on the best of terms. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, she supposed they loved her. She was such a salacious headline. She just had a problem with them.

  “Of course the world knows, Madeline. And that’s by design. This is about business, publicity, and that means media attention. That means hype. That means big money. And that is what I’m in business for.”

  “You actually want the press to swarm the party?”

  “Publicity,” he said simply. “I would hardly go to all of this expense to put on an exhibition if I didn’t plan for it to end up being talked about in any and all media outlets. It isn’t as though I’m throwing a party for my own amusement.”

  She bit the inside of her lip and forced a smile. “Of course not, Mr. Petrov.” She doubted Aleksei did anything for his own amusement.

  Aleksei allowed himself another visual tour of his event coordinator. She wasn’t happy with him at the moment, that much was certain, and he imagined she thought she was hiding it better than she was.

  He had always enjoyed her voice when speaking to her on the phone. Low, slightly husky and always, unintentionally, sexy. Even when she was talking about the need to increase the budget for an event. But he had not imagined that the woman would match up to the voice. He hadn’t thought it possible.

  But she exceeded the sexiness in that smooth, sultry voice. Wavy brown hair that shimmered golden in the light as it cascaded over her shoulders, blue eyes that were enhanced by thick lashes. But it was her body that had his libido fighting to slip its leash. Politically incorrect as it might be, he found her curves captivating. Full breasts, a slender waist, and round hips that drew his attention with their gentle sway when she walked.

  She seemed to have a physical effect on him, like strong alcohol. She was intoxicating.

  He put his hands in his pocket, felt his cellphone in his right one and gripped it tightly. He suddenly wished he could call Olivia, not because he missed the woman who had been his mistress until a few weeks ago, but because he longed for the distraction of her. But Olivia had been getting clingy. She had started wondering why he only saw her for special events and sex. Had started wanting him to come to Milan just to see her. That was when he’d known it was time to end things. He didn’t get any sort of satisfaction out of hurting women. He made his intentions clear from the beginning.

  Keeping a casual, long-term mistress was his preference. It was better than going out to bars every weekend to pick women up. After all he’d experienced in his thirty-three years, he felt far too old.

  “And what do you intend to do tonight?” he asked.

  He could tell she was forcing the smile that was stretched so determinedly across her face. “I intend to do what you pay me to do and coordinate the exhibition.”

  “I assumed you would have it coordinated at this point.”

  “The important things, yes. But just in case we end up short a shrimp cocktail or something I like to make sure I’m on hand to ensure there isn’t anyone…” she waved a hand in the air “…sans shellfish.”

  “Fine if you need to oversee that, but I don’t want you running around the party in jeans and a headset.”

  “I don’t do that,” she said.

  “Good. I like for everything to blend seamlessly at these events. The only thing the guests should notice is the jewelry.”

  “I can assure you, Mr. Petrov, that’s my aim as well.”

  “I would prefer if you dressed as an attendee of the party, and not as staff.”

  He could tell that annoyed her too. The glitter in her blue eyes was in direct contrast with the serene, smooth expression on her face. “I was planning on wearing black pants and a black top, just like the waitstaff.”

  “But you aren’t one of the waitstaff. You work directly for Petrova Gems, and I wish your attire to reflect that.”

  That was how he ran things. Impeccably. In the design world, looks were truly everything. Nothing else mattered other than the external. So long as the exterior glittered, nothing else counted.

  “You should take the time to enjoy the party,” he said.

  She pursed her pretty lips into a sour pout. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “I don’t either. I prefer my pleasure uninterrupted.”

  A slow flood of crimson colored her cheeks. It amazed him. He hadn’t known there was still anyone in the real world who blushed over casual innuendo.

  “And by enjoying the party,” he continued, “I mean circulate, listen to conversation, find out what appeals to the guests, and what doesn’t. Another reason to dress to blend in.”

  “So, I’m conducting a covert survey?”

  “Not quite. But it pays to learn from critique.”

  A strange look passed over her face. “Media critique?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I don’t want to say anything out of line, Mr. Petrov, but you’ve hired me to coordinate the event so…”

  “So you want me to trust you rather than dictate?”

  She nodded once, brown hair shimmering over her shoulder.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I did hire you to coordinate, but I’m a perfectionist, and as long as I’m here, I’ll see everything done to my standards.”

  That did make her bristle, that fixed grin seriously faltering. “I can assure you, I do everything to your standards, whether you’re here or not.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Then, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish some last-minute details. Something to do with shifting seating and doubling security.”

  The ice in her tone, the fact that she dared to speak to him that way, amused him. He was used to a lot of sycophantic scraping and bowing. That was something he’d always appreciated about Madeline over the phone. She was direct, and she did her job. His ego didn’t need another person living to fawn over him. He preferred the fact that Madeline had a mind of her own.

  He stuck his hand in his pocket, his cellphone still there. He could call Olivia. Could call a host of women who had given him their numbers recently. Numbers he had kept but never dialed.

  Instead he leaned against the railing of the grand marble staircase and watched Madeline clack around the spacious ballroom on her high heels.

  Madeline turned and looked over her shoulder, she forced a tight smile when she saw him watching her, but he could see the tension coming off her petite frame in palpable waves.

  Something he understood about Madeline: she liked control. And so did he. And he had just come into her domain, as far as she was concerned, and taken her control.

  He chuckled softly and took his phone out of his pocket before he walked into the hallway. Maybe he would get a date for the evening. Madeline could add another setting as easily as she’d removed it. He could find himself a woman to keep him company tonight.

  And forget about that brief flash of attraction he’d felt when he’d seen Madeline for the first time. An attraction he had
no intention of acting on. He didn’t date employees, and he had no plan of starting a relationship with a woman who seemed as young as Madeline did.

  Because he had no intention of having a relationship at all.

  He looked at his phone, then put it back in his pocket.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE DIDN’T have a date. Aleksei strode down the long hallway, his blood pounding heavily in his veins. He had not called anyone. Not Olivia to see if she might want to briefly rekindle their year-long affair. Not any of the jewelry models—beautiful women—who had made passes at him over the past few months.

  Because none of them had appealed. The only woman he’d been able envision had been his event coordinator. Beautiful, tightly wound Madeline with the glossy brown hair and curves that seemed to come straight out of every male fantasy.

  Beautiful women were easy to come by. He had money, he had influence. If he wanted female company, he could have it.

  Yet he was walking to Madeline’s room. Compelled to see her again. And he was following the compulsion because, truly, the desire for anything was so foreign to him that he was honestly fascinated by it.

  He knocked on the door to Madeline’s suite, the one his company, he, in fact, was paying for. He always paid for his employees to stay in the best accommodations when they traveled. Mostly because he never wanted to hear anyone complaining about doing a subpar job because they’d lost sleep on a lumpy mattress.

  He heard Maddy’s voice coming through the thick door. “Just a second.”

  He could hear her palms hit the wood as she checked the peephole. When she opened the door, her expression was wary. “Mr. Petrov, is something wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He walked past her and into the suite.

  She moved to the other side of the room, her discomfort with his presence obvious. She was so soft and petite and for a brief moment so lost-looking that he felt a twinge of something…protectiveness, maybe, in his chest.

  It was only natural. She was young, maybe in her mid-twenties, and he knew the kinds of things the world had in store for the young and naive. Knew that there was pain out there so intense, that there were rock bottoms so low most people couldn’t imagine them. Because he’d been there.

  Her eyes clashed with his, her expression guarded for a moment. There was a wariness there, a hardness that didn’t match her age. Perhaps she wasn’t as naive as he’d imagined. Maybe she knew about the dark side of life already.

  She was young, but there was no youthful innocence in her face. Not a trace of naiveté. She was waiting for the angle. Waiting to find out things were about to fall apart around her.

  He knew that feeling well.

  “I have decided that I would like a companion for the evening,” he said.

  She gave him a baleful look. “Which means you need me to add the setting that you just had me take away, for the date that you had, but then didn’t have and forgot to tell me you no longer had.”

  A reluctant chuckle got caught in his throat. “Something like that. But I think you’ll be able to handle things.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, her voice flat.

  “Madeline, I was wondering if you would like to sit at my table, as a spot has just opened up.”

  Acid burned in Maddy’s stomach. He was just going to have her be his date? Some kind of convenient replacement? It was typical. Most men didn’t care who a woman was as long as she was available and willing.

  She bit her lip. Hard. She was neither. And she refused to be taken advantage of ever again.

  “I’m not actually interested in being your back-up,” she ground out.

  “That isn’t what I was asking. You’re an intelligent woman, Madeline. You’re ambitious too. I haven’t missed that in our conversations together. I thought you might appreciate the chance to sit at my table, to speak to the guests, learn more about the industry. There is room at the table, and I thought you might like the opportunity.”

  Okay, that was tempting. More than. The fact that she was extremely drawn to the industry of design made her job more enjoyable. She loved everything about the company, and had thoroughly enjoyed the year she’d worked for Aleksei already.

  It was tempting because it might give her a chance to learn more so that she could advance into another position at Petrova. It wasn’t really part of her five-year plan, but it would be pretty amazing. Something she would readily consider.

  “But, as far as the other people at the table are concerned…”

  “If you want to be presented as my date so that you aren’t treated like the help I have no problem with that at all.”

  The help. Oh, yes, and people in this circle would treat her like the help if they knew she was the event coordinator. Working for a living was quite frowned upon in such levels of society.

  Not that she cared, but she didn’t really want to be the focus of conversation.

  She bit her lower lip then released it quickly, realizing what an indecisive, nervous gesture it was. She wasn’t an indecisive, nervous girl. This was a chance to further her career a little bit.

  But it reminded her too much of working for William, her first boss when she’d graduated from college. Of everything that had happened. Of how incredibly, unforgivably stupid she’d been.

  Her stomach knotted fiercely.

  This is different.

  It was different because she was different. She wasn’t some naive girl desperately seeking love and affection. She was a woman. She knew her own mind, she made things happen for herself, and she would never allow herself to be a victim. Never again.

  She certainly wasn’t going to let past disasters stop her from succeeding.

  Besides, she wasn’t seducible. She wasn’t suddenly going to morph into her past self. Even if Aleksei was the most gorgeous man she could remember seeing, and even if his dark eyes did promise that he might actually know what to do with a woman in bed.

  She felt her skin heat and she took a deep breath to try and cool herself down. It wasn’t doing her any good to think of him like that. It didn’t matter how he was with women, because she would never be among their number.

  Didn’t want to be. No matter how sexy he was.

  “I had some gems set aside for my date to wear tonight, prior to our separation. I would like you to wear them.”

  The very idea of it made her stomach turn slightly. She didn’t like the thought of wearing jewelry meant for another woman, regardless of the fact that this wasn’t a date. It was still…well, it reminded her too much of things that had gone on before in her life.

  “It probably won’t match my handbag. It’s a really bright yellow,” she said, trying to wiggle out of having to wear the jewels. “And I already have a matching necklace.”

  He looked at her closely, dark eyes appraising her in a way that had her feeling as though he was looking beneath her skin, into her soul. At all of her secrets.

  “I have a piece that would be perfect for you.”

  The way he said that, perfect for you, it was so personal. It made her heart squeeze, and she wasn’t really sure why.

  “I have a very strict policy on keeping business business, as I said before,” she said.

  “And this is business,” he said, dark eyes impassive again, when before they’d been…hot. “An extension of your job for the evening. Petrova Gems is about romance. It’s about making a woman feel as though she’s buying not just jewelry but a lifestyle, a fantasy. We need to present a fantasy that goes beyond location, decor and sparkling gems. It’s about the woman, how she feels in the jewels, how they make other people feel about her. They are meant to be worn, not simply displayed.”

  She nodded slowly. “Is that in a print ad or a commercial? Because it should be,” she said.

  He chuckled, the sound rough, as though he wasn’t accustomed to it. “If that’s an endorsement, I might have to use it.”

  “Actually, it might be nice to have something like that written lightly, al
most hidden, in script around the display cases for the next exhibition.”

  “I like that idea,” he said, the corners of his mouth curving very slightly.

  Why did it made her stomach feel warm when he smiled? It could hardly be called a smile, and she certainly shouldn’t be feeling anything. It was just because he liked her idea, because tonight was looking like a serious boon for her career within Petrova Gems. Who wouldn’t be happy about that?

  “If you would like, I can send over a stylist to help you with your wardrobe.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t taking gifts. “I have my own dress. Thank you, though.”

  He moved closer to her, his dark eyes locked on hers. He smelled good. Not like cologne, but just clean. Musky and male. It made her want to draw closer to him, to breathe him in.

  She hadn’t realized she was verging on pathetically lonely. That was all it was, though. Loneliness. She hadn’t seen her brother and his family in too long, and she didn’t really have any close friends. She just wanted to be close to someone. She needed to get a cat.

  “You are a stubborn woman, Madeline,” he said.

  “It’s been said more than once,” she said. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not at all. I can appreciate the quality since it is one we share.”

  She felt a smile stretch across her face, without her permission. “Well, I’m glad it doesn’t count against me.”

  He looked like he might move closer. Time stretched on slowly, the air between them thick. “Not at all,” he said.

  Aleksei turned and walked out of her hotel room, the door clicking shut behind him. Maddy sank onto the couch, suddenly conscious of the fact that her legs were shaking.

  She had no idea what had just happened. Well, she was afraid she did know. She was attracted to him, to a man who was no different than any other. Discarding women at a moment’s notice without any feeling or regret.