Which meant she’d have free time to check out a few upmarket boutiques, enjoy a leisurely coffee in any one of numerous cafés. Me time.
She sent off a text in confirmation, then she turned her chair towards the plate-glass window, momentarily took in the harbour view, and smiled.
Suddenly the day appeared a little brighter.
The weekend involved a close inspection of her wardrobe, a list of items to pack, the need to check with Ben if he could look after Ollie, a phone call to Ivana, who listened, wisely chose to relay a simple, ‘Take care, darling,’ instead of a litany of words attributed to caution of the personal kind. So not Ivana’s style.
When the persistent beep of the alarm woke her the next morning, Natalya had an urge to push the off button, roll over and grab another hour’s sleep, only to groan...not going to happen.
There was a need to be ready on time. Alexei’s text stating she be ready for pick-up at seven-thirty a.m. ensured she was waiting on the front veranda with her luggage, overnight bag and satchel.
Sure enough the limousine slid to the kerb with Paul at the wheel. Within minutes the driver transferred her luggage while she joined Alexei in the rear passenger seat.
‘Good morning.’ Pleasant, she could do pleasant...which he responded to in like manner.
There was no need to run through their immediate agenda. They could do that once they were in the air.
Not a passenger jet, Natalya discovered, but a private one. Expensive, luxurious and essentially an office in the air with cabin staff who provided coffee, offered a light meal be served once they reached cruising speed.
A review of their agenda required a few adjustments, and their first appointment in New York required only a minor amendment.
‘There’s a sleeping compartment with a comfortable bed adjoining the en suite bathroom,’ Alexei relayed as he retrieved a set of earphones. ‘I suggest you get a few hours’ rest.’
‘What about you?’ The query was out before she’d given it any thought.
‘I’ll take the second shift.’ He paused, and his eyes met her own. ‘Unless you suggest we share?’
‘Not going to happen.’ Her response was instant, and his mouth curved a little.
‘Relax, Natalya.’
She hadn’t been able to completely relax since the first day he’d reappeared in her life.
The bedroom compartment was more spacious than she expected, containing a bed with fresh linens, a small wardrobe, appointed mod-cons, and a comfortable chair.
It took a few minutes to discard her outer clothes, remove make-up and don a wrap, then she turned back the bedcovers, settled comfortably, and much to her surprise she slept for more than four hours and woke feeling refreshed. Suitably clothed, she applied moisturiser, added a touch of colour to her lips, then she returned to the cabin, accepted fruit and coffee while Alexei sought the sleeping compartment.
Which became more restless than restful as the light floral perfume Natalya used lingered to taunt him with memories of shared passion, and what he’d believed to be unconditional love.
Elicited fact appeared to prove him wrong.
Yet deep in his gut there was a kernel of doubt based on the occasional unguarded moment during the past few weeks...when he was able to catch a glimpse of the young woman he’d known so well. A momentary warmth in her smile. A faint wistfulness, only for it to quickly disappear.
The slight change in her breathing when he’d held her in his arms on the dance floor. The tension evident in her stance when he escorted her to the front door of her home. There was a degree of vulnerability evident he found intriguing...a quality she endeavoured to disguise. And almost succeeded.
* * *
A stopover in Los Angeles for the jet to refuel, Customs, before boarding for the final leg of their flight to New York...where a uniformed chauffeur was waiting for them in the Arrivals lounge.
A service Alexei had obviously used on prior occasions, Natalya observed, given the ease of friendship between both men, and with smooth economy of movement their luggage was cleared from the carousel, carried through the terminal and deposited in the boot of a sleek black limousine which had slid smoothly to the kerb.
A driver and a bodyguard?
Elevated status...or a necessity?
New York contained a variety of differing vibes...from extreme wealth and luxury to the opposite end of the spectrum. Alive with a mix of cultures, from traditional to the exotic. A city which moved to a certain beat, glamour, pizzazz, to the bleakness of the Projects. A familiar vibe she recalled from previous business trips she had shared as her father’s PA.
Music was key to the difference in attire and speech, and Natalya breathed it in as the limousine traversed the distance between airport to the high-end hotel in the vicinity of Central Park.
Classy, Natalya determined as they rode the elevator to a high floor, with stunning views over the city that never slept.
For the following few days they attended meetings, while maintaining a painstakingly professional façade.
Each day became mission accomplished. The nights, not so much.
Arranging business dinners didn’t faze her, nor had attending them when the CEO had been her father. Alexei was someone else entirely.
Five years had wrought changes in Alexei she’d thought she’d known so well. Eyes dark, gleaming, sensual, conveying with just a look how the night would end.
The antithesis of the man he’d become...hardwired, ruthless—driven.
Except she was no longer the biddable young girl with stars in her eyes, imagining love would overcome everything.
How wrong had she been? she reflected as she dressed for the evening ahead. Formal, Alexei had forewarned, and she selected a red gown with a high neck artfully draped to cover each breast, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, nipped in at the waist to fall in a swirl of soft material at her feet. Subtle make-up, emphasis on the eyes, bold red lip gloss, her hair styled in large soft waves which fell past her shoulders and curved forward to partly frame her face, a touch of jewellery, she gathered up a wrap in matching red, slid her feet into red stilettos, took a deep breath, and emerged into the adjoining lounge to find Alexei conducting a conversation on his smartphone in a language she failed to comprehend.
Black evening suit, white shirt and black bow tie did much to emphasise his European features, impossibly dark eyes and wide mobile mouth. A mouth that could wreak mindless havoc...as she knew too well.
His cologne held a subtle blend of musk and something she failed to define...a soft sensual whisper that teased, taunted and made her think of the forbidden.
Each breath she took in his presence became measured, controlled, as every muscle in her body slowly tightened. In the close confines of the limousine she felt as brittle as the most delicate piece of Venetian glass.
One touch, and she’d shatter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE EVENING AHEAD was a formal occasion. Very formal, Natalya noted, given the venue, the sumptuous grand dining room, the quality linen covering the many tables, exquisite crystal, cutlery and tableware.
Security was evident, invitations carefully checked, and guests personally escorted to their tables.
A gala event of note.
‘Why me?’ she had queried quietly, and incurred his studied look.
‘Why not you?’
‘This is social, not business.’
‘The lines between the two are blurred, are they not?’
Anything else she might have added remained unsaid as a stunning blonde, who appeared out of nowhere behind him, snuggled close against his back, wound her arms around his neck.
‘Guess who?’
Natalya caught a glimpse of diamond rings, a diamond necklace, sensed a drift of exo
tic perfume, heard the sultry in the young woman’s voice, and felt her stomach plummet.
A friend? Lover? Mistress?
‘Stassi,’ Alexei acknowledged with a tinge of amusement as she released her hands and stepped to face him. ‘Your signature perfume is unmistakable.’
There was a light tinkle of laughter followed by a staged moue...belied by the sparkle in Stassi’s eyes as she stood on tiptoe to brush a light kiss to his cheek before turning towards Natalya. ‘And you are?’
‘Natalya,’ Alexei drawled. ‘Let me introduce you to my irrepressible cousin, Stassi.’
‘Family,’ Stassi declared. ‘So Alexei is off limits, unfortunately. Although he does duty as a partner on occasion.’ She glanced from Natalya to Alexei. ‘And you are Alexei’s...?’
‘Friend,’ Alexei declared.
‘Uh-huh. Euphemism for...?’
‘Friend,’ he drawled, undeterred by his cousin’s inquisitiveness.
‘PA,’ Natalya corrected.
Stassi smiled. ‘Business and pleasure. Interesting combination.’ She offered Alexei a teasing grin. ‘You do realise your mother is planning a family dinner in your honour? She’ll be delighted to welcome Natalya.’
Family? No, not happening. ‘I don’t think my presence would be appropriate.’
‘Alexei will do his persuasive best,’ Stassi stated with a light laugh. ‘He’s very good at it.’ A slow smile curved her lips. ‘I really must return to the parents. They have plotted to introduce me to a gorgeous man who, according to my darling mama, displays excellent potential as future husband material. Should be a fun evening.’ She kissed her fingers and playfully touched them to Alexei’s cheek. ‘Take care.’
She turned towards Natalya. ‘I’ll look forward to catching up with you again.’ With a mischievous smile she began threading her way through the numerous guests.
‘Your cousin is delightful,’ Natalya ventured politely, and caught his musing expression.
‘Yes, she is. She’s also intelligent, with a degree in criminal law. Loves life, has no intention of marrying, now or in the near future. Much to her mother’s despair.’
‘She obviously hasn’t met the right man.’
‘Is marriage so important?’
Sticky question, and not one Natalya was prepared to answer. Five years ago she would have said marriage represented a lifetime commitment, enduring love, growing a family...including qualities such as trust, faith and respect. Sharing the good and the not-so-good times together, without blame or regret.
‘No comment, Natalya?’
She managed a credible smile. ‘Much depends on one’s life plan, don’t you think?’
‘And yours is?’
‘Personal.’
For a moment she glimpsed a slight change in his expression, then it was gone, and she was left to ponder if her imagination was playing tricks.
‘Perhaps we should take our seats,’ Alexei indicated smoothly, inclining his head to a staff member waiting to escort them to their reserved table.
Society’s glitterati at its finest, Natalya noted, as she sipped an excellent French wine. Similar to, but different from, she perceived, other charity functions she’d attended in the past. For there was ample evidence of extreme wealth apparent in the women’s designer gowns, and their jewellery alone could have funded housing and food for a poor nation.
Cosmetic enhancement appeared to be de rigueur for the mature women, varying hairstyles combed and teased to within a whisper of perfection.
Nor, she suspected, was it confined to the women.
It was akin to viewing a movie on screen, where the majority of guests were actors playing a part, prepared by stylists, make-up artists, such was the achieved element of perfection.
The ballroom was enormous, and soon seated to capacity. Soft background music became almost lost to the chatter of voices as stylishly clothed wait staff ensured champagne and fine wines were replenished with reputed flair.
‘Darling Alexei,’ a female guest seated opposite at their table inclined with exquisite poise. ‘I heard you’d touched down in this part of town.’ All that was required to complete the woman’s image was a long cigarette holder, for she had the pose down pat of the lead actress who played the original role of Auntie Mame in an old movie. ‘So delighted you could grace us with your presence. But then, you have a vested interest in the nominated charity.’ Her smile held graceful interest as it settled on Natalya. ‘You’ve brought along an interesting new friend. Natalie, I believe?’
‘Natalya.’ It was easy to smile as she offered the correction.
‘Of Russian origin?’
‘It was my great-grandmother’s name.’
‘How interesting.’
Her great-grandmother’s history was interesting...the story of a family who escaped a life of poverty to settle on a distant relative’s farm in northern Europe. As a young girl of eighteen, she’d entered into an arranged marriage and bore four children...the youngest of which being Natalya’s grandmother, who’d fled to America as a teenager, found work and lodging in a Californian vineyard, borrowed a sewing machine and made children’s clothes long hours into the night. Embroidery was her specialty, and at first her exquisitely embroidered gowns sold by word of mouth, until she was encouraged to sell direct to a childrenswear shop in a nearby town. In storybook style, her grandmother had married the vintner’s son, bore two children, a girl and a boy. Sadly her husband and young son were killed in an accident together with her husband’s parents. Stricken with grief, Natalya’s grandmother attempted to run the vineyard, only to sell it within two years, and start a new life with her daughter Ivana in Australia, settling in Sydney, where she set up shop, employed minimum staff, and gradually expanded over time to export her childrenswear overseas.
Natalya’s cherished Babushka...so morally and emotionally strong. A woman who had worked every day of her life and for whom family was everything, and who left behind so many memories of love, wisdom and laughter.
‘More champagne?’
The sound of Alexei’s voice intruded, and the ballroom with its numerous guests returned in sharp focus as Natalya offered a polite smile together with a quietly voiced refusal.
Background music faded, and there was the introductory speech of welcome, followed by the purpose of the charity in question, funds raised, together with a plea for guests to be generous with their donations.
In terms of success, the event topped the scale, given the plaudits offered throughout the evening. Guests appeared at their sparkling best, the food superb and the champagne flowed.
Polite small-talk appeared to be the order of the evening...the best party a few of the society doyennes had attended, who were present, snippets of gossip, and descriptions of apparel...designer of course, and who wore it best.
Different country, another major city...familiar scenario, merely on a larger scale.
Natalya briefly compared the evening with some she had attended with her father; the increasing tension as his alcohol intake rose, and her attempt to minimise the fallout. The relief when the evening came to a close and they could leave.
Now there was tension of a different kind, arising from her emotional reaction to Alexei’s presence. Sexual sensuality...a heightened awareness that threatened her sanity. The question being...what was she going to do about it?
* * *
‘We’ll be dining at my mother’s home this evening.’
Alexei’s seemingly normal statement following breakfast the next morning caused Natalya’s breath to momentarily catch in her throat.
We?
Her fingers momentarily paused from keying words into her laptop.
Surely she’d misheard?
‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy spending time with her,’ she offered with
genuine sincerety as she set her fingers tapping on the keys.
There was a need to transcribe recorded notes from the previous day’s meeting, prior to lunch and a mid-afternoon consult...when casual attire would be exchanged for suit, heels to present a more professional image.
Vastly different from his current casual attire of black fitted jeans and black tee shirt which emphasised the breadth of his shoulders, powerful flex of toned forearm musculature...the taut stomach, narrow waist and six-pack abs. The fact he worked out was evident in every move he made.
It made her want to explore. To track every muscle, the hard flex and tone with her hands. Purr with pleasure at the thought of dragging the tee shirt from his body, to tease and caress his bare skin...with the familiar touch of a lover.
Exult in his response, the faint catch in his breath when she unbuckled the belt at his waist, slid the studded button free, then slowly freed the zip of his jeans in a slow sensuous play that could only have one end...almost crying out as he mimicked each movement she made, slowly, with exquisite care. The almost reverent touch as he cupped each breast, lowered his head to taste one nipple, and drove her wild as he used his mouth to draw it deep and suckle, before slowly withdrawing to shift focus to its twin.
The way she trailed a hand over his stomach to trace the extended length of him, feel, rather than sense his indrawn breath, the shift in his body as he lifted his head and claimed her mouth in erotic possession...until extended foreplay wasn’t enough. Nor the whispered words inciting the sensual promise of sexual pleasure.
Stop right there, a silent voice echoed in Natalya’s mind. Mentally reliving an erotic memory of what they’d once shared served no purpose.
Almost as if Alexei knew, his dark eyes lifted and held her own for what seemed to be a long minute, when it could only have been a few seconds.
She couldn’t move, nor did she have the power to utter a word.
A lost moment in time, brief...but it took an age before she managed to gather herself together and gain a sense of focus on the prosaic...laptop, transcribing notes.
Alexei's Passionate Revenge Page 10
