The Cost of the Forbidden (Irresistible Russian Tycoons)

by Carol Marinelli

  The price of endless pleasure!

  Clients, women, money…ruthless CEO Sev Derzhavin is a master at getting whatever—and whomever!—he wants. Rejected as a child, Sev has never been refused since. So when his personal assistant resigns, Sev can’t resist the challenge of enticing the beautiful brunette to stay…

  Naomi Johnson has to walk away before she gives in to the chemistry with her infamous heartbreaker boss and opens her heart to yet more bruises. But on their last business trip to Dubai, Sev makes a shocking suggestion to relieve the tension between them: enjoy some overtime—in his bed!

  Sev kissed her in a way he perhaps shouldn’t if Naomi was going to keep her head.

  Side on, eyes open for long enough to know what they were doing was breaking their rules.

  Their legs were entwined, but now there was time for more. And so Naomi kissed him in a way perhaps she shouldn’t. Three months of restraint had ended on the plane, but a different restraint ended this morning. She had never known a kiss like it. Their tongues swirled, mouths playing. She took in his lower lip just to feel it between hers; they stroked at each other’s mouth, caressed the other’s tongue. Yes, she had never known a kiss like it and, she guessed, after this morning she never again would.

  Irresistible Russian Tycoons

  Sexy, scandalous and impossible to resist!

  Daniil, Sev, Nikolai and Roman have come a long way from the Russian orphanage they grew up in. These days, the four sexy tycoons dominate the world’s stage—and are just as famed for their prowess between the sheets!

  Untamed and untouched by emotion, can these ruthless men find women to redeem them?

  You won’t want to miss these sizzling Russians in this sensational quartet from USA TODAY bestselling author Carol Marinelli—available only from Harlequin Presents!

  The Price of His Redemption

  December 2015

  The Cost of the Forbidden

  January 2016

  And watch for Nikolai and Roman’s stories...coming soon!

  CAROL MARINELLI

  The Cost of the Forbidden

  Carol Marinelli is a Taurus, with Taurus rising, yet still thinks she is a secret Gemini. Originally from England, she now lives in Australia and is the single mother of three. Apart from her children, writing romance and the friendships forged along the way are her passion. She chooses to believe in a happy-ever-after for all and strives for that in her writing.

  Books by Carol Marinelli

  Harlequin Presents

  The Playboy of Puerto Banus

  Playing the Dutiful Wife

  Heart of the Desert

  Innocent Secretary...Accidentally Pregnant

  Irresistible Russian Tycoons

  The Price of His Redemption

  Playboys of Sicily

  Sicilian’s Shock Proposal

  His Sicilian Cinderella

  The Chatsfield

  Princess’s Secret Baby

  Alpha Heroes Meet Their Match

  The Only Woman to Defy Him

  More Precious than a Crown

  Protecting the Desert Princess

  Empire of the Sands

  Banished to the Harem

  Beholden to the Throne

  The Secrets of Xanos

  A Shameful Consequence

  An Indecent Proposition

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM THE QUEEN'S NEW YEAR SECRET BY MAISEY YATES

  PROLOGUE

  ‘YOU’RE ENGLISH?’ NAOMI watched from the other side of a large polished desk as Sevastyan Derzhavin flicked through her résumé with little enthusiasm.

  He’d already made up his mind that she hadn’t got the job, Naomi decided. So it was now just a matter of going through the motions.

  What she didn’t know was Sevastyan never went through the motions.

  Social niceties did not apply to him.

  ‘I was born here and my father lives here in New York,’ Naomi answered. ‘So I’m legal...’

  ‘I wasn’t asking for that.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not really big on red tape. It was your accent that had me curious. How long have you been here?’ He continued to look at her résumé and frowned as Naomi answered him.

  ‘Twelve days.’

  ‘You’re staying in a hostel?’ he checked.

  ‘Just till I find somewhere to live, though that’s proving harder than I thought it would.’

  He glanced up and saw that she was blushing—she had been since the moment he’d called her name, or perhaps her complexion was just perpetually red?

  ‘I thought that you said that your father lived—’

  ‘His wife just had a new baby.’ Naomi interrupted.

  ‘I don’t blame you, then.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  He stiffened.

  It was the third time that she had said it.

  ‘I don’t blame you for not wanting to stay with him if there’s a screaming baby.’

  Naomi didn’t respond but her slight swallow and blink told him that, very possibly, his comment was the wrong way around—that her father didn’t want Naomi staying with him.

  He had been about to tell her that they were wasting each other’s time. Sevastyan didn’t deal in emotion. Computers were his thing. Books too. Not people.

  There was no point in dragging things out and so he would tell her that this wasn’t going to work; that she could never be his PA.

  And he would tell her why if she asked.

  Naomi Johnson had one of those apologetic personalities that irked Sev.

  One of the last English words he’d learnt had been ‘sorry’ and he rarely used it.

  Naomi had said it twice even before taking her seat.

  She had said sorry when he’d gone into Reception to call her in for the interview and she had knocked over her glass of water as she’d stood. Then, as she had taken a seat in his sumptuous Fifth Avenue office, he’d politely asked how her morning had been. Naomi clearly hadn’t made out what he’d said and it had been ‘sorry’ again.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ had been his irritated reply.

  And now she had just said it again.

  ‘I don’t think it will work,’ Sev said.

  ‘Mr Derzhavin—’

  ‘Sev,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m not a schoolteacher.’ He looked up into serious brown eyes and, seeing her rapid blink, he reeled back a touch from his usual abrupt dismissal. She—Naomi—had clearly made a huge effort for the interview today. The hostel she was staying at was a dive yet she was here in a smart suit. It was a touch tight, Sev thought, noticing her curves. Her dark brown hair was neatly tied back and she looked...

  Sev couldn’t quite place it.

  She reminded him of something, or rather someone.

  He didn’t really want to examine who or what it was, there was just, he decided, no need to be brutal.

  ‘Look, Naomi, you’re clearly qualified and for a twenty-five-year-old
you have a lot of experience and you interview well but...’ He watched her nervous swallow and found himself wanting to let her down gently. ‘You’ve an extensive list of hobbies—reading, horse riding, ballet, theatre... It goes on. The thing is, the only hobby my PA can reasonably expect to have is me.’

  ‘Felicity has already explained that to me,’ Naomi said. Her first interview with his current PA had been thorough enough to leave Naomi in no doubt that the role would be a demanding one. Sevastyan Derzhavin’s skills in cyber security were globally in demand. Apart from an impossible workload he was a rich playboy and had a little black book that was his PA’s to juggle, along with his private jet and helicopter.

  Yes, she had been told exactly what the role would entail. He was arrogant, emotionless, worked you to the bone but he paid through the nose for attention to duty.

  Him.

  From the bitter twist to Felicity’s voice Naomi had soon guessed that there might be a more personal reason for the sudden vacancy.

  ‘Even so.’ Sev went to drop her résumé on his desk and, Naomi was sure, terminate the interview and send her on her way.

  ‘Would it help if I told you that I’d lied on my résumé?’

  ‘Probably not.’ Instead of standing, he leant back in his seat. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, I do like the ballet and theatre but it’s stretching it to say that they’re hobbies of mine and I haven’t been on a horse since I was fourteen...’

  ‘What about reading?’

  ‘I’ll read in bed.’

  Sev opened his mouth to say something and then, very sensibly, he closed it.

  God, he could so easily and so very inappropriately have responded to that. Clearly Miss Awkward had recognised the opening she had just given him because just as those full cheeks had been starting to pale, they had once again flushed pink the second she’d said it.

  ‘Well, I can’t command your time in the bedroom,’ Sev said, and he hesitated again because, actually, he wouldn’t mind doing just that...

  He made a very abrupt verbal U-turn. ‘I warn you—if I offered you the role then most of your waking hours would be devoted to me. Your time would be spent on a laptop, or the phone, sorting out my life. You wouldn’t even have time to read your horoscope, it will be mine you turn to first.’

  ‘I don’t believe in them.’

  ‘I bet you still read them, though?’

  ‘Is that relevant?’

  She was tougher than she had first looked.

  Sev gave her an intense stare, barely noticing her full lips and round cheeks as her deep brown eyes drew him in.

  And with that look Naomi revisited her need for the role—twelve-to eighteen-hour days didn’t trouble her, rather it was the company she’d be required to keep that did.

  ‘I see you’re engaged.’ Sev glanced at the ring she wore before returning her solemn gaze.

  ‘Again,’ Naomi asked, ‘is that relevant?’

  ‘Actually, it is,’ Sev tartly responded. ‘Because you’d have to have the most understanding fiancé in the history of the world to put up with the demands that I would make on your time.’

  ‘Well, my fiancé isn’t here in New York with me, however...’ Naomi hesitated for a moment and then decided that, no, if by some miracle he did offer her the role she wouldn’t accept it anyway.

  Twelve minutes ago her world had been complicated yet ordered.

  Well, not ordered as such but twelve days ago she had arrived in New York.

  Twelve minutes ago she had texted her father to suggest that they catch up for lunch after her interview.

  She had just put her phone back in her bag and gone to take a drink of water when Sevastyan Derzhavin had walked out of his office and called her name.

  ‘Naomi.’

  He was beautiful.

  Just that.

  Dark haired, pale skinned, he had very long legs and despite the immaculate suit he looked as if he should be wandering out of a club or casino at 5:00 a.m. he was so rumpled and unshaven.

  His tie was loosened, his grey-black eyes were a touch heavy lidded and he gave her not a smile as such, just a nod in the direction of his office and a vague, unrelated memory had popped into her head—she had remembered the time she’d gone to see her lovely familiar female doctor for a pap and a sexy-as-hell locum doctor had come out.

  Naomi had flunked it and had asked the sexy doctor for a flu injection instead. And she’d flunked it again as Sevastyan had come out of his office and greeted her. As she’d stood, she had got all flustered and knocked over her drink. When he’d enquired, in a deep, Russian-accented voice, about her day, she’d been so entranced that she hadn’t really heard what he’d said and he’d had to repeat himself twice.

  With every question he’d grown sexier.

  With every vowel he uttered she wondered if the chair she was sitting on might be battery operated. Somehow even her list of hobbies had led them to bed and so now all Naomi wanted to do was stand up and get the hell out of there.

  I’m an engaged woman, she wanted to say. How dare you make me feel like that?

  No, she didn’t want the role.

  ‘You don’t speak a second language,’ Sev checked.

  ‘No.’ Naomi shook her head. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘At all?’

  ‘Non,’ Naomi said, and then laughed at her own feeble joke.

  He didn’t laugh, just stared back at her.

  ‘You know,’ Sev finally said, ‘the English are lazy.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I mean the English-language-speaking world.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘They rely on others speaking their language.’

  ‘How many languages do you speak?’ Naomi asked him.

  ‘Five.’

  Good, Naomi thought. She didn’t have the job.

  ‘Still, given that most everyone speaks English,’ Sev said, ‘I’m sure that we can work around it.’

  Help.

  ‘I just want to clarify that I’m only going to be in New York for a year,’ Naomi said, giving him an out now and rather hoping that would be it, but he merely shrugged.

  ‘You’d burn out long before then. I don’t think I’ve ever had a PA last longer than six months. Three months...’ He gauged. ‘Yes, I think you would last about three months, though I’d hope for more.’

  ‘Look...’ Naomi flashed him a smile. ‘I don’t want to waste your time. Though your assistant was very clear that the hours were demanding I didn’t realise that it would be quite so full on. I like my weekends...’ She gave him another smile, which he didn’t return. ‘I’m actually here to get to know my father a little better and so—’

  ‘You’d get weekends off.’ Sev dismissed that obstacle. ‘Unless we were overseas.’

  ‘And also,’ Naomi added, just to make certain that he didn’t hire her, ‘I don’t really have experience in your field.’

  ‘Experience in my field?’ Sevastyan frowned and he knew exactly what she meant but he was enjoying watching her get flustered. ‘I’m not a farmer.’

  ‘I meant that I don’t know much about cyber security.’

  ‘If you did then you’d be my rival.’

  She stood and held out her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘Part of the package is an apartment overlooking Central Park. Well, once Felicity moves out. It’s nice...’ he mused. ‘Well, I like living there.’

  ‘We’d be in the same apartment block?’

  It got worse and worse!

  ‘It’s huge. Don’t worry, I shan’t be knocking on your door to borrow a cup of sugar. It’s convenient if there’s an early morning or late-night meeting. And it saves time when we’re travelling, which there’s a lot of. Being in the same building shaves off ten minutes if I don’t have to pick you up from another address and there’s a helipad.’ And then he told her what her wardrobe allowance would be, which should have had her cheering.

  ‘No, re
ally...’

  Naomi wanted her life back.

  She wanted a world where she had never seen this man. But Sev now wanted her.

  She was as plump as forbidden fruit and, God, but he loved the word ‘no’. He considered it a pesky firewall to get around or disable.

  It really was a great motivator.

  ‘Thank you for your time,’ Naomi said, still holding out her hand, but he didn’t offer his.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said again, only this time it didn’t irk him. He simply sat in silence and watched her leave.

  He picked up the next résumé and read through it.

  Yawn, yawn, Sev thought, his mind still on the girl with the sad brown eyes.

  Spaniel brown.

  Like some puppy expecting to be kicked but hoping for love.

  And a stray he did not need.

  He headed out to call Emmanuel in.

  The waiting room was empty.

  ‘Felicity...’ he called out to his PA, but her seat was empty too.

  And her bag was gone.

  There was her farewell message to him on the computer screen.

  I FAKED IT!!!!

  ‘No, you didn’t.’ Sev grinned but his smile faded as the lift opened and Emmanuel, presumably, dashed down the corridor.

  ‘I’m so sorry that I’m late, Mr Derzhavin...’

  Sev frowned. He recognised him. That’s right, he had interviewed Emmanuel a couple of years before and now he was back for another go.

  And he was five minutes late.

  ‘Not the best first impression,’ Sev said.

  ‘I know but—’

  ‘Let’s not waste each other’s time.’

  ‘But...!’

  Sev didn’t wait to hear his excuses. Instead he headed back to his office and caught the last floral notes of Naomi Johnson. His mind made up, Sev picked up his phone.

  Naomi was just checking hers when it rang and, given her recent text to her father, naturally she assumed it was him. He’d actually seemed impressed when Naomi had told him about the interview with Sevastyan. Maybe he was ringing to find out how it had gone?

  ‘Hi, Dad, I was just—’

  Her voice was all gushing and needy and not one she’d used on him, Sev thought. ‘It’s not your father. This is Sev.’

 
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