Alexei's Passionate Revenge

by Helen Bianchin

  Good to go, with a few minutes to spare.

  Alexei’s limousine slid to a halt at the prearranged time, and she drew in a deep breath as the doorbell rang.

  Nervous tension, Natalya excused, and sought to steady the increased pulse-beat at the base of her throat as she opened the door.

  He had presence, an elusive quality that set him apart from most other men. Difficult to define in mere words, but there nonetheless.

  Dark eyes that could sear the soul; a mouth which held the promise of sensual sin...and delivered.

  Stop, a silent voice echoed inside her brain. Remembering how it had been between them served no purpose.

  As an escort he ticked all the boxes. Appearing even more devastating in impeccable evening wear, he could easily have passed as a male model in a photo shoot for Armani. The epitome of the man he’d become...assured, comfortable in his own skin. The acquisition of the fine things in life, its influence and power. An added quality he bore with ease.

  The limousine purred silently through the city streets, entering the inner city perimeter until they reached the hotel where the evening’s event was being held.

  Assembled media, photographers were positioned ready to capture the arrival of well-known guests, and flashbulbs popped as the cream of Sydney’s society descended from a moving procession of limousines...women offering practised smiles, should their photograph be one of a chosen few to make the following day’s social pages.

  Alexei’s light touch at the back of Natalya’s waist was a courtesy, although only she was aware of the flare of sensual electricity coursing through her body.

  Her role was strictly business-oriented. Definitely not personal. She should have organised a pin discreetly emblazoned with PA to clarify her presence.

  Natalya offered a slight smile as she accompanied Alexei into the large atrium where guests were gathering for pre-dinner drinks prior to a bank of doors being opened to allow access into the formal dining room.

  Waiters circled the atrium offering flutes of champagne as guests mingled with fellow associates and friends, increasing the noise factor as the numbers swelled to capacity.

  Natalya offered a smile in silent acknowledgment as she recognised friends among the crowd, aware they’d be able to connect throughout the evening, and when a few scions of industry approached Alexei she achieved each introduction with practised ease.

  It became increasingly obvious Alexei garnered attention. His takeover of Roman Montgomery’s firm had become a lingering buzz among those in the financial sector, fired by successful deals Alexei had achieved worldwide.

  There was media interest in his background, together with any information investigative journalists could dig up about his personal life.

  Until now Alexei had declined to give interviews, sanctioning only information his media personnel were instructed to release. Fine in theory, but the gutter press possessed few scruples, and a grain of truth embellished with innuendo could increase sales of varying tabloids tenfold.

  ‘Natalya.’ The sound of Ivana’s voice captured her attention, and she greeted her parents with affection, formally introduced Alexei to her mother, who offered him a gracious smile and shook his hand.

  ‘You’ve already met my father,’ Natalya indicated, sensing the tension beneath the obsequious smile as Roman extended his hand.

  ‘Indeed,’ Roman expressed. ‘So pleased you’ve taken Natalya on board. She’s an excellent PA.’

  Proficient at covering your back...words which remained silent.

  ‘Ivana, darling. We’re seated together.’ Aaron’s mother, Elvira, Natalya perceived, aware both women were long time friends. ‘Roman. Natalya.’ Her gaze shifted towards Alexei. ‘Alexei Delandros, of course. You photograph well. I’m delighted to meet you.’ She turned towards Natalya. ‘Aaron is parking the car. Al has been shanghaied by a client. I’m sure he’ll manage to escape soon.’

  Interesting didn’t begin to describe the seating arrangement. Aaron, the gay son whose parents were in ignorance of their son’s sexual proclivities; Alexei and Roman...which member of the committee thought to put the fox and the rabbit together? Each table seated twelve. Who were the remaining five?

  ‘Ah, they’re opening the doors,’ Elvira declared. ‘Shall we go in?’

  Moving within a crowd involved some inadvertent contact with other patrons, and she stiffened as Alexei placed an arm along the back of her waist...and kept it there until they reached their table, choosing to position her chair as she graciously took a seat. The gesture polite, impersonal...so why did his touch affect her body as much as it did?

  A temporary madness, and one which she’d avoid by maintaining a reasonable distance between them. Which worked until a complement of five guests soon joined them. None other than Lara and Richard Tremayne, their two daughters Abby and Olivia, with son Jason bringing up the rear.

  Like she needed awkward?

  Nothing she couldn’t handle...and she did, with grace and politeness, expressing amusement at the right intervals, while easing her way through three courses of beautifully presented delectable food.

  ‘Champagne, Natalya?’ Alexei queried, and she spared him a polite smile.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Definitely a departure from her usual preference of sparkling mineral water, and she caught Aaron’s faintly raised eyebrow in silent askance.

  On the surface all twelve patrons at their table appeared to be sharing a pleasant evening. Perhaps they were, and she was the only one present who sensed an edge of tension.

  It was a relief when the wait-staff began clearing tables in preparation for serving coffee. An action which usually pre-empted a series of announcements, speeches offering thanks for generous donations, the evening’s success, followed by music and the voiced encouragement for guests to enjoy the dance floor.

  Roman stood to his feet and crossed to Natalya’s side and extended his hand. ‘Shall we?’

  At least her father employed a little circumspection in leading her part-way through the waltz before he lowered his head a little and quietly demanded,

  ‘What in hell are you thinking?’

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘I’m Alexei’s PA, and seated with him in a professional capacity.’

  ‘Darling girl, he’s merely using you to highlight his success over my business failure.’

  Natalya looked at him, glimpsed the anger, the frustration evident, and sought to alleviate it. ‘Why would he do that, when the media have already printed the coup in various newspapers?’

  Roman snorted in derision. ‘Didn’t you learn anything five years ago? The man upped and left you without a word.’

  ‘That’s not relevant to the current discussion.’ Her voice was firm as she refused to placate him. ‘Shall we rejoin the others?’

  Coffee, hot, black, with no sugar helped, Natalya admitted, and she offered a smile as Roman swept her mother onto the dance floor, which left Natalya, Alexei and Jason Tremayne the only occupants at the table.

  Not the best scenario, she perceived, wondering if she could escape to the powder room. However luck wasn’t on her side as Jason rose to his feet and approached her.

  ‘Our turn, I think.’

  ‘Mine actually,’ Alexei intervened smoothly as he rose to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’

  She could refuse him, plead the need for a coffee refill, and attempt to relax. Instead she inclined her head towards Jason, offered a faint smile, and accompanied Alexei onto the dance floor.

  ‘That wasn’t necessary,’ Natalya said quietly as she matched his steps with familiar ease.

  ‘No?’

  What could she say? If in doubt, don’t, and in this instance silence was the better option.

  The music sl
owed, and Alexei pulled her in as they adjusted their steps to a softer beat. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, and he fought the urge to wrap an arm around her slender body, brush his lips to her temple...as he had done in the past. Enjoy the light floral perfume she wore, aware of his body pulsing with need, and the promise of how the night would end.

  He’d been so sure of their relationship, of her, envisaging they’d grow old together, having raised a family, and enjoy grandchildren. Until Roman Montgomery had employed strong-arm tactics to ensure Alexei’s swift departure from Sydney and the country.

  Five years on, Alexei had changed, so too had his life.

  The human psyche had intrigued him to such a point whereby he’d studied psychological behavioural patterns, mannerisms, characteristics that would provide insight to figurative red flags during his business dealings.

  Qualities that had led to his success.

  Had it hardened him? Undoubtedly.

  His late father would have been proud.

  ‘We should return to the table,’ Natalya indicated as the music sped up to a modern beat. ‘Considering the duty dance is done.’

  ‘Duty?’ Alexei queried as he released her. ‘Is that what it was?’

  ‘Of course,’ she dismissed. ‘What else would it have been?’

  Indeed. If he hadn’t noted the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat, felt the throb of it beneath the palm of her wrist, he might have believed her.

  The evening eventually drew to a close, with the final speech, the lucky door ticket prize, with guests lingering in the adjoining atrium as they waited for taxis, private limousines, while others continued on to a nightclub.

  There were hugs, air kisses, voiced promises to do lunch or coffee...the usual pattern following the end of an evening’s social event.

  ‘The limousine will be here within a few minutes,’ Alexei indicated.

  ‘I can easily take a cab.’

  ‘But you won’t.’

  Her lips parted with the intention of arguing with him, only for her to decide against it. Besides, taxis at this time of night were in short supply.

  ‘Compliance, Natalya?’

  She spared him a glance. ‘Only because it makes sense.’

  And if you dare smile...

  He didn’t, or else she missed it as Paul eased the limousine to a halt at the kerb. The late evening flow of traffic was intense as patrons vacated cinemas, cafés and restaurants until they cleared the inner city and crossed the harbour bridge.

  ‘I trust you both enjoyed a pleasant evening?’ Paul queried, and it was Alexei who responded,

  ‘Successful.’

  The context had to relate to the capacity crowd, donations raised, and Natalya added, ‘Very much so.’

  There was a sense of relief when the limousine drew to a halt in her driveway, her set of keys in hand as she released the door clasp and stepped out in one fluid movement, pausing to offer, ‘Thanks for the ride, the evening.’ She held up her set of keys. ‘I’m fine. My porch light is on a timer.’ She closed the rear door, then turned towards the gated path, unaware Alexei had joined her.

  ‘I’m quite capable of walking unaccompanied to my front door.’

  ‘I was unaware I implied otherwise.’ His voice was a musing drawl, and she was conscious of the sharp tug of awareness, the unbidden heat flooding her body...and silently damned her own vulnerability, choosing to glance at the lit window on the far left of the house.

  ‘You share the house with someone?’

  Not an unusual question, given its spacious size.

  ‘It’s a large family home divided in half to incorporate two separate units. I occupy one. Ben leases the other.’

  Alexei’s eyes narrowed. He had no recollection of her mentioning anyone by that name. And he would have. A sharp memory was one of his talents. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Two and a half years ago.’ She deactivated security, then inserted her key into the lock and heard Ollie’s pathetic wail. ‘My cat,’ she enlightened as she opened the door, whereupon Ollie leapt into her arms and began purring as he affectionately butted his head against her chin.

  Feline love, gifted unconditionally. If only human emotions were as uncomplicated...

  Except they weren’t, and Natalya offered Alexei a polite goodnight, entered the spacious hallway, then with a brief smile she closed and locked the door. Less than a minute later the veranda light faded, and she released her breath.

  ‘Bed, hmm,’ she murmured against Ollie’s furry head. But sleep came without success, as she tossed and turned for what seemed an hour or more, only to check the illuminated hands on her watch to witness only thirty minutes had gone by.

  Ollie protested and resettled his furry self at the base of the bed as Natalya punched her pillow, counted to ten, and sought a more comfortable position.

  But there were too many images filling her mind of the times when she and Alexei were so attuned to each other there had been no need for words. Magical, engaging, special...so much so, she would have wagered her life nothing, no one, could tear them apart.

  Yet someone or something had.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NATALYA MUST HAVE SLEPT, for when she woke Friday morning the sun was filtering through the bedroom shutters, and a quick glance at the bedside clock revealed she had plenty of time to shower, dress, linger over breakfast, flip pages through the daily newspaper and feed the cat, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

  But something in the press changed her light mood to one of outrage as she caught a newsprint photo on the social page featuring Alexei handing her into his limousine. Taken on angle the photographer had managed to imply an intimacy that didn’t exist.

  Worse, the caption—MOGUL AND FORMER LOVER TOGETHER AGAIN?—was endorsed by a brief paragraph beneath the photo.

  Without hesitation she tore out the page, folded it and thrust it into her satchel.

  Seconds later the phone rang, and she bit back an unladylike curse as she saw the ID.

  ‘Hi, Dad.’

  That was as far as she got, before her father launched into a diatribe, which in essence demanded to know what was going on between her and Alexei.

  Soothing him down took several minutes, until she cut his words short with the excuse she had to leave for work.

  She was barely a kilometre from her apartment in heavy morning traffic when her cell phone beeped with an incoming text.

  WTH? Aaron.

  Her staunch and loyal friend who’d supported her through the worst of times had clearly seen the same photograph too.

  Worse, she garnered a few speculative glances as she rode an elevator to the high floor occupied by ADE Electronics.

  All it took was one vigilant employee to start the gossip mill...and who better the focus than Natalya Montgomery, daughter of the fallen Roman Montgomery and former lover of the new head honcho, Alexei Delandros?

  Dammit. This had to be stopped now.

  She ignored her own office and in one swift action she retrieved the newsprint page and marched directly into Alexei’s office...which probably wasn’t the best idea, but she was so angry she didn’t care.

  If he was surprised, he failed to show it, and she hated that he’d leaned back in his chair seemingly intent on regarding her with detached interest as she crossed to his desk.

  Natalya drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. ‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ she stated firmly. ‘I’ll act the polite efficient PA in all matters business. Anything alluding to personal is off the table.’

  He waited a beat. ‘Clarify personal?’

  ‘Placing me in an invidious position.’

  ‘Apropos of?’

  Natalya extracted the page she’d torn from the daily ne
wspaper and placed it on his desk. ‘This.’

  She watched as he skimmed the offending caption...and waited for his reaction. Except there was none.

  ‘I have no control over the media’s agenda.’

  Had the light touch of his hand at her waist been deliberate? Or was she simply being super-sensitive?

  It irked he had the power to tie her emotions in knots... She hated that she actively looked for and subsequently judged his every word and action, silently seething if she imagined they crossed the line...her self-imposed line.

  Her eyes darkened measurably. ‘I want a retraction printed in tomorrow’s edition.’

  Alexei leant further back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you think that will only exacerbate the situation?’

  Natalya drew a deep breath, then released it as her eyes darkened with anger. ‘There is no situation.’

  He lifted one eyebrow. ‘Perhaps you’d care to inform the media of that?’

  She pursed her lips, then opened her mouth to deliver a volley of words best left unsaid. Instead she directed him a glare which had no visible effect whatsoever, much to her annoyance, leaving her little option except to turn on her heel and sweep out from his office.

  Her silent frustration with the media’s intrusion continued throughout the morning, while she fought to qualify they were only doing their job. Not that it helped much. Nor did she feel comfortable with a part of her private life being played out in the public domain.

  Natalya ordered lunch in, despatched a text to Ivana, and cursed beneath her breath when Reception notified several calls representing the media had not been redirected to Alexei Delandros’ PA.

  Like she needed this?

  Late afternoon a text arrived on her smartphone.

  Flight Monday a.m. Sydney/NY. Details laptop. Confirm. Alexei.

  Two weeks? Natalya silently queried when she checked her laptop and read Alexei’s schedule.

  The expected meetings, a few business lunches, three business dinners. Family.

  Alexei’s family. So, not all business.