Alexei's Passionate Revenge

Courage...she owned it in spades, Alexei acknowledged. Together with a flash of temper, which showed for a brief instant before she visibly gathered it in.

‘Yes.’ Succinct, and final.

Natalya turned to leave, and he waited until she reached the door before relaying with drawled intent, ‘I strongly suggest you change your mind.’

He watched her shoulders stiffen, their slight lift as she took a calming breath before she swung back to face him.

With determined effort she took in his sculptured facial features accented by scrupulously groomed designer stubble...impossibly sexy, highlighting a raw edgy quality she found disturbing.

Dark eyes...not warm as she remembered, but cool, analytical. The faint groove bracketing each cheek seemed a little deeper, and the mouth which had caressed her own, devoured and taken, was now set in firm lines.

His shoulders...had they been so broad? His hair, so silky she’d exulted in ruffling it into disorder. Matching the dark promise in his eyes, a soft throaty chuckle an instant before he claimed her mouth, her heart...her soul.

Then.

Not now...and it rankled more than she would ever admit to how much the admission had the power to hurt.

She was over him. Way over.

Alexei Delandros belonged in a previous chapter of her life. One she had absolutely no intention of revisiting. Only a degree of stubborn pride ensured she remained facing him...when every cell in her body urged she should simply turn and leave. So why didn’t she?

Because it was the easy way out. And she didn’t do easy.

Like she’d even consider working for the man who had ruthlessly set out to destroy her father’s business empire?

Natalya lifted her chin and threw him a fulminating glare. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you can take your employment contract and shove it.’

She was either a very good actress, Alexei conceded, or she genuinely had no inkling of the verbal bombshell he was about to deliver.

‘You might consider leaving your options open.’

Her eyes never left his own. Dignity and sarcasm didn’t mesh, but she really didn’t care. ‘Please don’t hesitate to enlighten me as to why?’

Family values had been her strong point. One he’d admired...until he’d dug deep into her father’s business and private affairs and uncovered a number of discrepancies revealing the antithesis of the man Roman Montgomery managed to portray.

Had Natalya been aware of her father’s transgressions? Possibly not, given Roman’s penchant for subterfuge.

There was no point in sugar-coating the facts, nor did he feel inclined to soften his words.

‘My accounting team have uncovered an elaborate scheme involving several bogus offshore accounts created by your father for the illegal transfer of Montgomery company funds.’

Alexei watched her eyes sharpen with disbelief. ‘There’s no way my father would commit fraud.’

It was a gut reaction and, on the surface, genuine, he perceived. Although she’d managed to fool him in the past.

‘You’re so sure of that?’

‘I’d stake my life on it,’ Natalya voiced emphatically, ignoring the folder Alexei extended towards her.

‘I suggest you examine the paperwork.’

‘And if I choose not to?’

He studied her features as she ran a pale lacquered nail over the folder’s seam, noted the soft pink colouring of her cheeks, the defensive spark in the depths of her eyes, and for a brief moment he almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

‘The report details dates, account numbers, the series of complicated layers deliberately created to prevent detection.’

Natalya cast him a withering look, only to witness it had no effect whatsoever, and she tossed the report, unread, onto his desk.

‘You can’t be serious.’

The silence became an almost palpable entity as she refused to shift her gaze. Difficult, when a host of conflicting thoughts swirled through her mind.

If...and in her opinion it was a vastly improbable if...the report held a grain of accuracy, the question had to be what Alexei intended to do with it.

At best the details would reveal any fraud had occurred without her father’s knowledge.

At worst...she wasn’t prepared to give that thought any credibility.

‘Read the report.’

Only a fool would fail to recognise the steely intent beneath his silky drawl, and she shot him a baleful glare as she picked up the proffered folder and flipped aside the covering page.

The first thing she noted was the name of the firm who’d compiled the data...and recognised it as one of the foremost sources well known worldwide for its excellent reputation.

Why did she have the instinctive feeling the goal posts had suddenly undergone a subtle shift, when it was she who’d determined to maintain control during this brief...very brief encounter?

A small ball of tension manifested itself in the region of her mid-section, and she took a calming breath before she began skimming the range of figures, dates, only to slow down as growing alarm escalated with each turn of the page. Detailed entries tracking each amount as it passed through an elaborate tracery of accounts.

A trail initiated by direct instructions from Roman Montgomery.

Amounting to millions of dollars.

Natalya felt as if she needed to sit down, and she froze for a few heart-stopping seconds as reality hit home.

If the report was brought to the notice of relevant authorities, her father would face restitution, penalties incurred for tax evasion, and probable jail time.

It was beyond belief.

She lifted her head and looked at Alexei with undisguised incredulity for a few unguarded seconds, before reassembling her features into a taut mask as realisation hit.

‘There’s more.’

Natalya’s eyes flashed dark fire as they fixed on his own. ‘How can there be more?’

Alexei reached behind him, collected a second folder from his desk and handed it to her.

Her reluctance to examine the contents was apparent, and he watched in silence as her shoulders stiffened before she turned her attention to the written details, the photographs, and caught the moment irrefutable proof led to the only possible conclusion.

Roman Montgomery led a double life and had been doing so for many years.

There was an apartment in Paris, occupied by a mistress. A London apartment in fashionable Notting Hill housed a second mistress. Each of whom were maintained by Roman, whose visits coincided over the years with so-called business trips to both cities.

Deeds to both properties were buried beneath a list of subsidiary companies, ultimately tracing back to one man...her father.

Disbelief, together with emotions she was loath to name, coalesced into anger she fought hard to control.

The burning question had to be why had Alexei Delandros hired accredited investigators to delve deep into Roman Montgomery’s business affairs and his personal life?

Why expend so much time, effort and money?

To do what?

Blackmail?

Her father? Her?

On the surface, such conjecture appeared unconscionable.

It took considerable effort to remain relatively calm, when her overwhelming desire was to toss both folders onto Alexei’s desk and walk out, take the elevator down to basement car park level and exit with a squeal of tyre rubber.

Not the best idea...but incredibly satisfying. Provided she maintained control and didn’t crash the car. Or worse, suffer an injury or three.

Her eyes darkened as they fused with his own.

‘What do you intend to do with this information?’

Alexei regarded her thoughtfully, noted the tension evident in the way she stood, the straight back, squared shoulders, her eyes fixed intently on his own.

‘That depends on you.’

The only visible indication apparent was a slight narrowing of her eyes, followed seconds later by an increased pulse-beat at the base of her throat.

A vivid reminder of past occasions when he’d touched his lips to that pulse, savoured it, before kissing it gently with his mouth. Her soft husky groan followed by a faint gasp as he used his teeth to tease and nibble a little.

Almost as if his body remembered, he felt its damning response, and silently cursed as he shifted position, using the moment to transfer a slim document and pen from his desk and extend it towards her.

Natalya’s eyes flashed with fine fury as she recognised it as a duplicate of the contract she’d just destroyed.

‘I have no intention of attaching my signature to a document representing any company involving your name.’

‘That’s your final decision?’

‘Yes.’

‘You might care to consider the fallout if I disclose the information I have on your father to the relevant authorities and the media.’

He’d do that?

The answer was clearly apparent in the chilling darkness in his gaze, and her mind reeled at the impact the exposure would have on her parents, their lives, her mother once Roman’s infidelity became known.

Anger burned her throat. ‘You bastard.’

‘Language,’ Alexei chided mildly.

For a brief moment she wanted to cause him physical harm, unaware how well he was able to read her.

Silence filled the room...ominous, intrusive, threatening.

‘Decision time, Natalya.’

The silky warning apparent in his voice acted as a reality check, and earned him a baleful glare.

‘I need to consider my options.’

‘There are two.’ His gaze seared her own. ‘You sign, or you don’t.’ He waited a beat, then added with irrefutable inflexibility, ‘It’s a simple no-brainer.’

Her father’s indiscretions made public. Worse, much worse...her mother’s humiliation and heartbreak.

The mere thought of the snide whispers, the disdain as the social elite tore her mother’s marriage, her very life to shreds...

A silent curse rose and died in her throat. She couldn’t do that to a caring, loving woman who in no way deserved such denigration.

Natalya subjected Alexei to a killing look which should have felled him on the spot, and gritted her teeth in sheer frustration when he displayed no reaction whatsoever.

‘Give me the damn paperwork.’

Seconds later she tore it from his extended hand and began reading the various clauses. Carefully checking no word or phrase had been changed from the contract she’d initially signed.

Every detail was clearly defined, stating as his PA she’d be on call twenty-four-seven when necessary, and available to accompany him on business trips within Australia and overseas. The contract would be valid for one year...renewable by mutual agreement.

While a term of one year had seemed perfectly reasonable, now it stretched way too long. ‘I insist renegotiating the one-year term down to three months.’

‘No.’

His unequivocal refusal ramped up her anger to boiling point. ‘Revenge or blackmail?’ she demanded tightly. ‘Which?’

‘Neither.’

He expected her to believe that? ‘And the moon is a ball of blue cheese,’ she offered with deliberate disparagement.

If he displayed so much as a glimmer of humour, she would hit him and be damned to the consequences. Only a forward flash of reality provided her saving grace, and she forced herself to mentally calm down, breathe, and stick to the basics.

‘What guarantee do I have you won’t go public?’

Alexei spared her a steely look. ‘My word.’

‘Not good enough,’ Natalya dismissed with a retaliatory edge, and glimpsed his eyes harden at her temerity.

‘The original certified documentation is held in a bank’s locked security box.’

She didn’t hesitate in issuing a cool demand. ‘Copies?’

‘Returned to the bank’s security holding after you’ve signed a new employment contract.’

‘I’ll require a certified bank receipt in confirmation.’

He leant back against the desk, seemingly relaxed, but only a fool would ignore the restrained power apparent, or doubt his intent to use it. ‘Done.’

Her eyes silently warred with his own, her mouth tight as she fought for a semblance of control as Alexei handed her a pen.

A mesh of angry pride caused her to hesitate for a few seconds before taking it from him.

‘Just for the record... I hate you.’

‘An emotion which should make for an interesting relationship.’ His voice was a smooth drawl which did little to improve her anger level.

‘Business-related only.’ The emphasis was fiercely stressed with finality as she attached her signature to a copy of the contract, watched as he countersigned, then she stood to her feet, walked out of his office, and took the lift down to the basement car park.

Alexei was intent on playing hardball, expecting her to meekly comply?

Comply, yes.

There really wasn’t an option.

But meekly?

Not a chance...

CHAPTER THREE

NATALYA ENTERED HER HOME, greeted Ollie, her beautiful Birman cat, caught him close for a customary cuddle, gave a light laugh at his plaintive miaow as she made her way into the kitchen.

‘Okay, I get it. Dinner time.’ She toed off her stilettos, dropped her bag onto the marble-topped servery, then moved to the walk-in pantry.

‘Chicken or fish?’

Unable to answer, Ollie merely butted his head against her chin and began to purr.

‘Chicken,’ Natalya decided as she extracted the appropriate tin, removed the seal, spooned the contents into the cat dish and placed it on Ollie’s food mat. ‘There you go.’

Her apartment was one of two situated in a large two-level converted family home in an exclusive bayside suburb overlooking a sweeping promenade bordered by a stand of tall Norfolk pine trees along the seafront.

Inherited from her maternal grandmother three years ago, the home rested high on a sloping hill with sweeping views over the bay and neighbouring suburbs.

Renovated into two beautifully decorated apartments, one of which she leased to a responsible tenant, the property represented a valuable investment, providing Natalya with a place where there were no memories of her shared time with Alexei to haunt her.

Except now he was back.

Food held no interest whatsoever, and she reached for the remote, activated the TV, checked local and international newscast, and scrolled through the host of programmes until she found something that might provide a distraction.

A night in was a conscious choice. Not that she was a social butterfly, although there were a few very good friends whose company she enjoyed...live theatre, movies, social events for worthy charity causes; lingering over a shared coffee, and there was a sports complex she frequently visited with an indoor swimming pool, and several large rooms hosting a variety of exercise equipment. None of which held immediate appeal.

She wanted out of her clothes, a leisurely shower, then she’d slip into something comfortable and carefully examine her copy of the employment contract in the unlikely event she’d discover a possible loophole.

An hour later she tossed the contract aside, aware there appeared no evident room to manoeuvre within the skilfully crafted legalese.

Food was a requisite, and having nibbled without appetite she settled into a comfortable chair and channel-surfed the TV for a while, noticed a much-viewed programme, only to discover it was a repeat episode she’d already seen.

What next? Phone a friend? Skype? Flip through the pages of a current magazine?

Indecision wasn’t one of her usual traits, so she decided to retire to bed with a good book. Ollie merely tilted his head in silent askance at this change in his mistress’s usual evening routine, and leapt onto the bed when it became apparent Natalya intended to settle in comfort.

Half an hour in, the written word failed to capture her complete attention, given her mind seemed intent on reliving events of the day.

No matter how hard she tried to focus on the story, Alexei’s image kept intruding, until she simply gave up, closed the bed lamp, and attempted to sleep...with no success whatsoever.

Emotional reflection eventually tipped her back into a place which transported her back six years to a time when she first met Alexei...at an end-of-year social gathering for employees of her father’s affiliate firm responsible for the manufacture of electronic components.

Tall, dark-haired and ruggedly attractive, he’d stood apart from the rest of the men present. For a heart-stopping moment she’d become acutely aware of every breath she took, unable to look away as he turned slightly as if drawn by her attention.

Dark gleaming eyes met her own, lingered, before returning to the young woman who clung to his side. Understandable, Natalya conceded, given he possessed the wow factor in spades.

She could, if she was so inclined, cross to his side and effect an introduction. Hadn’t she slowly circled the room achieving the social etiquette required of the boss’s daughter separately, and at her mother’s side, as the evening progressed?

Except she’d been forestalled by one of her father’s foremen, intent on introducing his son, and when she moved on the object of her attention was nowhere in sight.

Shame, she mused, aware she’d probably never see him again.

Yet she did, days later, when she entered a suburban supermarket to purchase a few groceries needed to replenish her fridge and pantry. And there he was, in the same aisle. Their eyes met, and they both exchanged a smile at the coincidence, whereupon Alexei introduced himself, and Natalya did likewise. Coffee, the universal suggestion, worked, and led to conversation and the exchange of phone numbers.

What followed rose to the surface, intact and in glorious Technicolor...a relationship so special, caring, so attuned to each other there had been no need for words. Just the touch of his hand, the warmth of his smile, dear heaven, his mouth as it possessed her own. The hard strength of his body, aroused emotions taking them both to a place where they existed in a sensual world of their own. Erotic, exquisite, mind-blowing.

A time when she’d felt so happy...so alive, in mind, body, and soul. Sure in her heart they were destined to share a life together.

Only to wake one morning to find herself alone in her flat, no explanatory note, only a brief text message on her cell phone later in the day indicating little, and not followed up at all.

‘The number you are dialling has been disconnected’, a disembodied robot had intoned, sending her reeling with alarm. Worse, the crushing news he no longer worked at her father’s electronics plant.

Five years, with no satisfactory explanation.

For all she knew he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth, followed by months of her agonising why. Ultimately, the realisation he didn’t want to be found.

Now he was back. Not the man she’d once known and imagined she’d loved, but a hard, resolute stranger bent on revenge—no holds barred. Bent on destroying her father, using her as a tool.

Blackmail...no other word suited as well.

She wanted to hit out...verbally, physically.

Silently didn’t begin to cut it.

Getting physical, however, did.

First up, her apartment, which she cleaned to within a whisker of perfection.

A long session at the local squash centre expended excess energy, and there was a certain satisfaction in continuously slamming a ball against the wall, especially as she mentally imposed Alexei’s body centre front and deliberately aimed to hit target every time.

Revenge of sorts for his physical image which had entered uninvited in dream form throughout the night, providing vivid memories she assured herself she’d long forgotten.

And knew she lied.

‘Why so aggressive?’

Oh, hell.

Natalya closed her eyes, then opened them again as she turned towards her squash partner and endeavoured to catch her breath.

‘There has to be a reason.’

Aaron offered her a penetrating look. ‘Spill.’

One of the pitfalls of a good friendship being they knew each other too well.

Initially they’d met at a social gathering hosted by her father. A partner in a prominent law firm and the eldest son of a wealthy family, Aaron was sophisticated, charming and considered to be a very good catch in the matrimonial stakes. Only a chosen few knew he maintained a relationship with a long-term same-sex partner.

‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Natalya assured him as they emerged from the court.

Aaron read her better than most, a good friend who’d provided unstinting support when she’d needed it most.

Such as now, when his teasing anecdotes would do much to help lighten the dark mood threatening to destroy her composure.

‘Share dinner with me this evening.’ The invitation was tempting, yet she hesitated as she collected a towel from the neatly folded stack adjacent the locker rooms.

‘I’ll make a reservation and collect you at seven.’ His smile held a tinge of humour. ‘Enlighten me or not, your choice.’

She didn’t, because she couldn’t bear to drag into the open how deeply Alexei’s presence affected her. Or revive memories too breathtakingly real to share.

Instead they kept the conversation light, touching on the ordinary, and simply enjoyed fine food, a little wine, and the relaxed benefit of good friendship.

It was a pleasant evening, and Natalya thanked him as he deposited her outside the entrance to her home.

Surprisingly she slept well and woke early, pulled on a Lycra body suit, added a singlet top, affixed earbuds to channel music and took her customary morning run...at a more gruelling pace than was her norm.

Following a shower, she dressed, munched on an apple as she collected keys, shouldered her bag and drove to the nearest mall to stock up on essentials.

As she drove to her parents’ home later that day to share Sunday lunch she couldn’t help but silently question what was real, as opposed to what had been a superbly acted sham on her father’s part, given he’d managed to fool her so well. There were no incidents she could recall to indicate her parents’ marriage had been anything other than a devoted union. There had been the odd private meeting while in London when her presence as his PA was not required. Likewise Paris.

The knowledge refreshed memories of her father taking time out for a relaxing massage. Personal shopping time. The supposed private business meetings he attended alone.

How naive had she been?

Worse, did her mother suspect?

Doubtful, given Roman had provided the perfect cover by employing Natalya as his PA, ensuring his daughter accompanied him to interstate and overseas business meetings.

A string of silent castigations didn’t come close to easing the anger she felt at her father’s deceit. There was a part of her that wanted to confront him, rail her fists against his chest and demand to know how he could have put his marriage, dammit, his life, in jeopardy by such selfish careless actions.

Play nice, Natalya cautioned as she eased her car into the driveway leading to her parents’ modern home set in beautifully tended grounds.

Smile, chat, and pretend nothing has changed.

Except it had, and the conscious effort to maintain a façade affected her appetite.

It was during dessert the question arose regarding her future plans.

‘Darling,’ Ivana broached with interest. ‘Are you going to take a break before applying for another position?’

Oh, my. Evade the issue, or aim for the partial truth? It had to be the latter...

‘No break, unfortunately,’ she managed with a credible smile.

‘Really?’ Disappointment was apparent in her mother’s voice. ‘I was hoping we might share some girl time. Lunch, shop. Book a massage, facial, mani-pedi.’

‘Who will you be working for?’ Roman queried, direct and to the point, as ever.