Читать книгу The Only Woman to Defy Him - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS A very long morning.

Alina sat embarrassed and uncomfortable as the staff worked around them, picking up the pieces of a decadent night.

Demyan didn’t appear embarrassed, not remotely so. He was clearly more than used to it and they worked on solidly.

‘Are there tenants in the other property?’ Alina asked.

‘No.’ Demyan didn’t even look over as he answered. ‘It is my private residence that I am selling. Do you see now my need for discretion?’

Alina slowly nodded and ran a tongue over suddenly dry lips as she started to glimpse the enormity of Demyan’s revelation. ‘Am I to look for other—?’

‘I am not buying,’ Demyan said, and Alina blinked at the implication that he was leaving Australia. ‘It is going to be a busy month—unexpectedly so.’ He did look at her then—straight into her eyes. ‘Do you have any questions?’

‘No,’ Alina said, hoping to make it clear that she wasn’t about to pry, but again it was none too subtly pointed out that she was perhaps out of her league.

‘Surely you should have many questions. You are supposed to be running my diary and arranging the sale of two properties and yet there is nothing that you wish to ask me? As I said earlier, I have allocated today to bring you up to...’ His hand moved in a circle as he tried to place the word. Clearly irritated, his excellent English slipped and he repeated the start of the phrase. ‘Bring you up to...’

Alina sat there, her lips tight, trying not to break in and give him the word that he was looking for. She didn’t want to annoy him further—in fact, she was expecting any minute now to be told to leave. And then the strangest thing happened. She watched as his arrogant, sullen features slipped into a smile, the first she had glimpsed from him, and, most surprisingly of all, it was aimed at her.

‘I don’t have a stutter,’ Demyan said.

Alina swallowed; she had no idea where this was leading.

‘You don’t have to just sit there and pretend not to notice that I cannot find the right word.’ He was still smiling, just a little, but enough for Alina to realise why he so easily broke hearts. His smile was completely mesmerising. He had a very sensual mouth when it wasn’t scowling, full, deep red lips that moved incredibly slowly, so slowly they made Alina aware that her own lips were itching and she ran her nail over them.

‘Feel free to jump in,’ Demyan said, and her thoughts were so lost in his lips that for a bizarre second Alina thought it was an invitation to kiss, but she quickly dragged her mind back to the conversation.

‘Speed,’ Alina croaked. ‘You have today to bring me up to speed.’

‘So use it wisely.’

Alina nodded.

‘In the future if there is something you are unsure of, or you have questions—’

‘Then I’ll ask you.’

Wrong answer.

Alina knew because she actually saw his jaw clamp and that gorgeous mouth harden.

‘If you would let me finish...’ There was no trace of a smile on his lips now. ‘I was about to say that you will liaise with Marianna, my regular PA in the States.’

‘No matter the time of day?’ Alina said. ‘With the time difference...’

‘You liaise with her before you trouble me.’ Demyan said.

They worked on but not well.

‘Ring Hassan’s assistant,’ Demyan said as the clock approached eleven. It had been the longest morning of her life and it didn’t get any better. ‘See if you can schedule dinner tomorrow. He is only here for a week, so make him a priority.’ He had to pause before continuing because Alina wrote every instruction down. ‘He likes a restaurant at The Rocks and I haven’t eaten there in a while.’ He circled his hand again and Alina hoped he was going to give a different restaurant name but, when it came, it was the one she worked at.

‘Problem?’ Demyan asked.

‘No,’ Alina answer too quickly. ‘Why should there be?’

‘Because you didn’t write it down.’

He missed nothing, Alina realised, duly writing it down and waiting for the next set of instructions, but Demyan was silent now.

Alina was sure, quite sure, as lunchtime approached that Demyan had decided it was all too much hard work and that he might just as well send for the terribly efficient Marianna.

She was right.

Alina, Demyan had decided, wasn’t a PA’s shoelace. He had never met someone so excruciatingly shy and apologetic. She blushed whenever he spoke to her. Demyan was very used to women blushing but not quite so deeply and so consistently as Alina.

He actually called Marianna but, hearing the neediness in her voice, decided against summoning her. Maybe it was his pounding headache that made the thought of Marianna helping him deal with these painful transactions suddenly not appeal and he decided to give Alina a small period of grace.

Alina was ringing restaurants and contacting Hassan’s PA when Demyan hung up on Marianna.

‘Could you have some painkillers sent up?’ Demyan said, but as Alina headed for the bell, he changed his mind. ‘Actually, there are some in my bathroom, if you could fetch them for me, please.’

The staff had worked their magic and there was no hint that Demyan had entertained three women there last night.

That’s what you’re dealing with, Alina told herself, because, yes, she was attracted to him. In fact, she was more attracted to Demyan than she had ever been to anyone in her life. Not that he’d ever look at her in that way, Alina knew that, and she wasn’t being modest. He was out of her world. So much so that Alina knew she shouldn’t even be here. It had been terribly foolish to lie and even more foolish to tell Elizabeth that she was up to working for Demyan.

Alina stood in the palatial bathroom and forgot for a moment that she was in there for a reason as she admired his things. Oh, there was so much to admire—not a hint of plastic, Alina thought, looking at his heavy silver razor. There was nothing disposable about him. The diligent cleaners still hadn’t quite managed to erase the scent of him. She couldn’t help herself. Alina picked up a heavy crystal cologne bottle and held it in her palm, squinting to read the name.

Demyan.

He had his own fragrance.

Alina could barely take it in. She removed the glass stopper and inhaled deeply, the scent exactly him, heady, exotic, bold. She could have breathed it in for ever, but hearing his phone ring she jumped a little, knocking a little bit onto her face and hand.

Quickly Alina replaced the stopper and punched out two tablets from the packet then headed back out to where Demyan was on the phone. He was speaking in Russian and, from the less than pleasant tone he was using, and because he said Nadia’s name, he was clearly talking to his ex-wife.

Alina stepped back into the bedroom and hovered, listening to her boss’s simmering anger and hoping she could just get through today without it turning on her.

‘Souka!’ Demyan said, and Alina heard the clatter as he tossed the phone.

That’s what you’re dealing with, Alina reminded herself again, because, as her mother had always told her, you could tell a lot from a man by the way he spoke to or about his ex.

Yes, her toes might be curling in her shoes just looking at him but there was no doubt in Alina’s mind that Demyan Zukov was an absolute bastard.

It was just that her body said otherwise.

Demyan glanced up as she approached. Those cheeks were on fire again but possibly, Demyan conceded, more from embarrassment at the disagreement she had just witnessed.

Demyan didn’t need to explain himself and he certainly wasn’t about to tell Alina what Nadia’s response had been when he had called her a whore—instead of dissolving or crying, or better still hanging up, Nadia had simply dropped her voice and purred into the phone, ‘If you want me to be.’

Alina held out the tablets, watching his mouth lift into a very wry smile as she held out her hand.

‘It will take a bit more than two,’ Demyan said to her offering. ‘Bring me the packet.’ When Alina still stood there, he was more specific. ‘Bring me the packet and a glass of iced water.’

‘It says on the packet that the dose is two.’ Alina watched his spiky black lashes blink at her small defiance.

‘If I wanted a nurse I would have hired one.’ His eyes lifted and met hers and Alina found that she was holding her breath as Demyan paused and his very straight nose breathed in air that was scented with the cologne she had spilled. ‘A nurse who didn’t meddle with my toiletries. Bring me the packet.’

‘I’m not getting you any more.’ Alina didn’t care if it meant that she was fired—she certainly wasn’t about to feed Demyan his drugs, even if it was just a couple of extra painkillers that he was asking for. She saw his eyes widen a touch, watched him open his mouth to speak, but Alina got in first. ‘If you want to overdose then you can fetch them yourself.’

Alina put the tablets down on the table in front of him and waited for the same roar he had served Nadia.

It never came.

Alina blinked in surprise when Demyan merely shrugged and stood up, though he did not head to the bathroom to get any more tablets; instead, he picked up his jacket. ‘We will go and look at my residence but first we will stop for lunch. Perhaps it is fresh air that I need more than painkillers.’ He liked her shy smile and the way that her serious brown eyes flared in relief.

He liked it that she defied him.

So few did.

‘Ring and book a table.’ Demyan had made more decisions than he cared to this morning, he simply wanted lunch. ‘You choose where.’

That should be it.

With anyone else, that would have been it.

His word, her command.

‘Actually...’ Alina gave a tentative cough before continuing, ‘I can’t have lunch with you.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I have to have lunch separately from the client.’ Alina attempted the impossible, to explain rules to a man who made his own. ‘It’s in the agency guidelines. It’s on the contract that you signed last night.’

‘Did I?’

Alina fished out the boilerplate contract from her bag and showed Demyan, who looked at his unmistakable signature. Last night remained a bit of a blur. ‘So I did.’ He flicked through the contract. ‘It says here that you are to finish promptly at five, with no exceptions. Can I ask why?’

‘I’m a temp,’ Alina said. ‘It’s simply the agency guidelines.’ She didn’t add that Elizabeth would very possibly throttle her if she knew what was being said. Elizabeth would have her staying back to midnight if it pleased Demyan. Neither did she add the guidelines meant that by finishing promptly at five she was able to work in the evenings.

‘Very well.’ Demyan shrugged. ‘We have a lot to do between now and five but first I need to eat.’

Alina called a restaurant from the list Marianna had emailed over and she called for his driver too, who was waiting for them as they stepped onto the forecourt.

For the first time in her life, Alina felt heads turn.

Though, of course, they turned for Demyan.

The door to a sleek silver car was being held open and after a teeny hesitation Alina realised that Demyan was waiting for her to get in.

In the back.

With him.

So this was how his PA lived, Alina thought as they drove through the city. With him, not beside him but separate, for she might as well not be there. At first he made no attempt at conversation, instead looking out the window, quite content not to fill the silence.

Alina’s heart was still hammering; it hadn’t stopped since they’d first met. It was close to one o’clock and almost five hours since first she had laid eyes on him and not by a flicker had his beauty or presence dimmed.

Alina stared out of her own window, unused to the awareness that had flooded her body, and then she heard his voice.

‘Roman was born there.’ He said it more to himself. Aware that his time in Australia was now limited, Demyan had been silently taking it all in. He stared at the hospital as they passed it, remembering how proud he had been that day, how determined he had been to do this right.

As Alina turned and glanced over, she noticed that all the arrogance in him seemed to have gone; she had never seen such sadness. Had she known him, even loosely, she would have followed instinct and asked what was wrong for there was torture in his eyes as they passed the hospital.

‘So was I.’

Alina’s voice and his mild surprise at her statement pulled Demyan from introspection and their eyes met. It was surely the only similarity they shared, Alina thought. Demyan’s vast wealth would ensure now that he attended only the most esteemed private hospitals but that Roman had been born there told her that he had started from the bottom.

‘How long ago?’ Demyan asked, and she told him it had been twenty-four years.

‘My mum wanted to have me at the local hospital or at home but I was complicated. I mean, the pregnancy was complicated.’ She blushed. Alina always did around men and especially him, but this had more to do with what she had just said. She didn’t usually open up easily and yet she just had.

‘I would have been nine years old,’ Demyan said. ‘I don’t think I had even heard of Australia then.’

Alina did the maths and placed him at thirty-three, and she knew from the glossies and a little internet research yesterday that Roman was fourteen. ‘You were a very young father.’

‘Not really,’ Demyan, said and he didn’t respond to her questioning frown. He wasn’t about to explain to his PA that he had never in his life felt young. Even as a small child he had had so many responsibilities.

‘I went to school near here.’ Alina filled the silence.

‘I thought you lived in the country.’

‘I boarded during the week,’ Alina said. She told him the name of the school and Demyan raised one eyebrow. It was a very strict, all-girls school. ‘My mum was very adamant that I get a good education.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Believe me, it wasn’t.’ She looked at two girls walking along, chatting, in red and white dresses and boaters. ‘Even the sight of the uniform still makes me feel ill.’

‘You didn’t like high school?’

‘I hated it,’ Alina said. ‘I didn’t fit in.’

‘That’s not such a bad thing.’ Demyan shrugged and got back to looking out the window but he didn’t end the conversation. ‘I never have.’

Alina looked over at him.

Wondered about him.

But Demyan had gone back to his own space.

They pulled up at the restaurant Alina had booked and she felt just a little bit foolish when she again declined his offer to join him for lunch.

‘I’ll meet you back at the car.’

‘Very well. How long does the contract say you have for lunch?’

She knew he was being facetious. Demyan wasn’t going to plan his schedule around her and she asked the driver to text her as soon as Demyan was ready to leave.

Yes, some might consider her foolish, for instead of joining Demyan and eating from the most luxurious menu, Alina bit, without much enthusiasm, into a salad sandwich that she had prepared that morning.

It felt far safer, though.

Alina had never met anyone so completely male before. She had never known her body react even remotely the way it was this morning and it scared her.

She blew out a long breath and gave up on her sandwich. There was a low, unfamiliar thrill at her very base that all morning she had been doing her level best to ignore. Now, instead of ignoring it, she tried reason.

Stunning to look at he may well be, but he was bad, he was dangerous. The way he’d spoken to his ex-wife told her that, the three women leaving his suite were a pretty decent clue...

Alina took a less than enthusiastic bite of her apple and then promptly threw it in the bin.

She was sick of apples.

Alina headed for a vendor and ordered a hotdog.

‘Extra onions, please,’ Alina said. ‘And extra cheese.’

She really had promised she would stick to her diet this week but a morning spent with Demyan and a hotdog, even with extra cheese, seemed a very mild vice to have.

He went against everything Alina liked in men, especially the way he behaved about his son. Yes, Alina had read the same magazine! How could she possibly even begin to fancy a man who could simply let go of his child? Well, Roman wasn’t a child exactly, he was a teenager. She had only been three when her father had left.

Alina bit into the salty, greasy hotdog and for the first time since two minutes to eight her mind escaped Demyan. She looked up at the skyscrapers and the Sydney skyline, wondering if her father was behind one of the windows, working through his lunch break perhaps? Or maybe he was among the group of suited men walking towards her?

Would she recognise him if he was?

Would her father recognise her?

Would he even care? Alina thought, going to take a huge bite of her hotdog and realising she’d already finished the thing.

Obviously not.

* * *

Demyan had chosen to eat outside and sat on the terrace, idly watching the crowds go by, when he saw Alina throwing her apple and sandwich away and then buying the lunch that she clearly preferred—he had never seen someone eat a hotdog so fast!

Should he keep her or not? Demyan mildly pondered. Alina was nothing like Marianna or his regular staff, who were as efficient as they were unobtrusive.

He found himself frowning, because it didn’t make sense. Yes, he might sleep with Marianna at times, but when working she could be sitting beside him and he wouldn’t even notice. Alina was so shy and so eager to fade into the background that you actually couldn’t help but notice that she was there.

So shy, so pleasing, yet she’d refused him those painkillers.

‘Can I get you anything, sir?’ the ever-attentive waiter asked.

‘Another coffee,’ Demyan said, but as the waiter walked off Demyan called him back. ‘Could you find me some painkillers? Just bring me the packet.’

‘Of course, sir.’

That was better, Demyan thought briefly.

Actually, it wasn’t.

He remembered the burn in her cheeks as she’d said no to him. Demyan looked back to where she stood, watching the world go by, and he found himself admiring her generous curves.

God, wouldn’t it be nice to bed her? Demyan thought. Once she’d stopped apologising, once she had forgotten how to be shy. Wouldn’t it be nice just to go back to the hotel room and get reacquainted with curves.

The richer he got the slimmer the pickings.

He would save her for later, Demyan decided. Alina would be a very nice reward to look forward to once he had faced the tough weeks ahead.

Demyan took time over his second coffee.

It had nothing to do with keeping her waiting.

He simply didn’t want to go home.