The Power of Vasilii

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ Laura defended herself firmly. He was deliberately trying to make her feel uncomfortable, she was sure, but she wasn’t going to let him. ‘Certain abilities do pass down through the generations, after all. In your own case you followed your father into the same line of business, and your success has proved that you have an aptitude for it. I had an aptitude for languages. After I lost my parents, developing that aptitude and those skills and following in their footsteps helped me to feel that they continued to be a part of my life. I loved languages, and I wanted something I could hold on to that felt as though it was part of them.’

Something to hold on to. An image of his mother the last time he had seen her alive flashed briefly and harrowingly through Vasilii’s head before he could deny it. The fact that it had been there at all only increased the dislike and rejection he felt towards Laura. She was stirring up within him memories she should not have the ability to stir up, raising issues that no one was ever allowed to raise with him, crossing lines that no one was permitted to cross with her conversation about her parents and her foolish sentimentality. Why? And, even more importantly, how? It was absurd that a woman like her, whom he already knew he could not trust, should somehow have managed to breach the defences that not even the gentle, loving touch of his late stepmother had been allowed to breach. Absurd and dangerous. The day that a woman like Laura Westcotte could represent any kind of danger whatsoever to him would never come, Vasilii assured himself.

‘I asked you for an explanation of why you chose to learn Russian. I expected a business reason, not a self-indulgent description of your childhood emotions.’

The harshness in his voice made Laura want to recoil from it—and from him. She’d felt so sorry for him when she’d learned how he’d lost his mother. She’d even felt as a girl that it gave them a shared bond. Was that why she had mentioned her own parents? Did she still want to create a shared bond with him? No! There wouldn’t be any point, because no woman would ever be allowed to share any kind of bond with the man he actually was, Laura suspected.

His criticism had stung, and under normal circumstances—if she hadn’t needed this job so badly—it would have had her questioning whether he was the kind of person she wanted to work with. She might need this job, but she certainly wasn’t going to allow his comment to go undefended.

Straightening her shoulders, she told him spiritedly, ‘I may have chosen Russian for personal reasons, but my decision to learn Mandarin—which was not one of my parents’ languages—demonstrates that I was looking towards the future of business. My parents passed down to me an ability to learn languages, but I made the decision to study Mandarin based on my awareness of the growing importance of China in the world market.’

She was daring to challenge him? That wasn’t something Vasilii was used to at all. Not from anyone and especially not from women, who were normally all too eager to court and flatter him.

‘You attended the same school as my half-sister. As far as I am aware Mandarin was not on the syllabus there.’

He knew she had been at school with Alena? A mental image of herself trying to find out from her aunt when Vasilii was likely to come to the school to collect his sister and then positioning herself at the window that would give her the best view of his ar rival flooded her body’s defence system with guilty self-consciousness. He couldn’t possibly know about that—just as he couldn’t know how often she had mentally rehearsed walking oh, so casually past his stationary car as he waited for Alena, only to have always lacked the courage actually to do so. She was being ridiculous, Laura warned herself. Of course he would know that she had been at school with Alena, just as he would know that her aunt had been the matron there, because—naturally, as her prospective employer—he would have checked up on her.

‘No. Mandarin wasn’t on the syllabus,’ she agreed.

One dark eyebrow lifted in a manner that Laura felt was coldly censorious.

‘Private lessons must have been an added expense for your aunt.’

He really did not like her. Laura could tell.

‘I paid for them myself,’ she informed him, her voice every bit as cold as his had been. ‘Some of the private pupils stabled their horses locally, and I worked at the stables mucking out. They got an extra hour in bed every morning and I earned the money to pay for my Mandarin lessons. Oh, and before you ask me, I saved up and bought an old bicycle so that I could cycle to the stables.’

Against his will Vasilii had a mental image of a much younger version of Laura Westcotte—ponytailed, fresh-faced and determined—setting off on her bicycle every morning, no matter what the weather, in order to do the chores that girls from better off families were too indulged by their parents to want to do, before returning to the school to begin a day’s education. His own father had always insisted that he work for his spending money as a boy, and even Alena, protected though she had been, had had her own special chores to do.

Vasilii pulled himself up. He wasn’t used to thinking about other people with his emotions, never mind mentally linking their situation to his own. Quite how and why it had happened he had no idea, but he did know that it must and would not happen again.

‘I would like you to read these notes aloud to me, translating them into Mandarin as you do so,’ he told Laura, firmly dismissing the unwanted image of her as a teenager from inside his head.

Very quickly Laura scanned the first paragraph of the technical data she had been handed. As an employee of a business specialising in handling translations of and negotiations for highly complex business operations she had become very much at home with the kind of thing Vasilii had asked her to do, so there was no reason whatsoever for her hand and then her whole body to tremble slightly, or for the colour to come and go in her face—apart, that was, from the fact that Vasilii’s hand had brushed her own as he handed her the piece of paper. That was ridiculous. Vasilii’s touch couldn’t possibly have made her feel like that.

She took a deep breath and started to translate the information on the printed page.

She was good, Vasilii was forced to accept as he followed Laura’s translation. His own PA would have taken longer, despite his experience.

‘And now if you would translate it into Russian?’

Laura nodded her head.

Again she was word-perfect. Not that Vasilii would have expected or accepted anything else.

‘So, we have established that your translation skills are … adequate, but if you know anything about China you will know that there is far more to successful business negotiations with the Chinese than merely having a good grasp of Mandarin.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Laura agreed. ‘Even if they speak another language the heads of Chinese industries and high-ranking Chinese officials often use a retinue of interpreters and PAs because that adds to their status. It is part and parcel of the Chinese way of doing business. Since I know that you speak both Russian and Mandarin yourself, I assumed that it was in part because of the issue of respect that you have decided to negotiate through someone else yourself.’

‘That is correct,’ Vasilii replied, and then looked at her, his eyes slightly hooded and his grey gaze unreadable.

Instinctively Laura knew that his silent assessment of her was both critical and meant to unnerve her.

It would have been so much better, so much easier for her, if she didn’t have that silly teenage crush lodged dangerously in her emotions. Its mere presence was enough to weaken her self-confidence.

When the silence instigated by Vasilii stretched to a length that was beginning to feel uncomfortable he delivered the blow that came from a direction she had not been prepared for. ‘You resigned from your previous employment, I understand—without having secured another post first. Why? It is rather a risk in today’s financial climate.’

CHAPTER TWO

LAURA felt her heart still in fearful recognition.

He couldn’t know. It just wasn’t possible. Summoning all her courage, she told him, ‘I decided to take a sabbatical,’ keeping her tone light and her head held high.

‘Really?’

The cynical look he was giving her warned Laura that he didn’t believe her. But worse was to come when he continued.

‘I understand that you are buying your current property with a mortgage, and that in addition to that financial commitment you also help to pay the fees for your aunt’s sheltered accommodation?’

‘Yes,’ Laura was obliged to confirm. ‘My aunt brought me up after the death of my parents. She’s not been well recently, and only receives a small pension, so naturally I want to do what I can to help her.’

‘You seem very eager to draw a picture of yourself as someone who takes her duties and responsibilities seriously, yet your attitude towards job security, which I would have thought in the circumstances would be extremely important to you, suggests the opposite. In fact I’d go so far as to say that I find it hard to believe that someone with your financial commitments would even think of taking time out for a sabbatical. And I have to say that I find it even harder to believe when I know that you made that decision within a month of being offered a promotion for which you had been personally selected by your mentor—a mentor with whom you have worked for many years.’

Laura’s heart had started to beat with heavy, hammer-like blows of acute dread.

There was nothing he wanted to do more than tell Laura that he had another far more suitable, far more acceptable applicant to fill the vacancy as his PA, Vasilii acknowledged as he watched her, but he couldn’t. Her translations had been faultless and skilled, and he already knew from her CV how highly her previous employers had rated not only her negotiating skills but also her people skills. As Vasilii knew, they were going to be very, very important in securing this particular contract. However, he intended to let her know he was not a man she should cross.

Laura could see that Vasilii was waiting for an explanation, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. Instead she had to appear casual and calmly in control, even if she was sick with anxiety inside, and tell him, ‘The new position I was offered would have entailed a relocation to New York. I resigned because I preferred not to go.’

‘Because you don’t want to travel? But the position as my PA involves a great deal of travelling—and to places rather more far flung than New York.’

Laura’s earlier anxiety had become a clawing sense of impending disaster. Her dread was justified when Vasilii announced, ‘If there is one thing above all else that I demand in my employees, Ms Westcotte, it is honesty and trustworthiness.’ He paused, and then demanded, ‘Isn’t it the truth that you were offered the option of leaving your previous employment voluntarily or being dismissed, because of your affair with your immediate—and affianced—superior?’

‘No!’ Laura denied immediately.

This time it was impossible for her to control her emotions—those feelings that she had kept locked up inside herself since the shocking and humiliating moment when Harold and Nancy had burst into the bedroom of John’s hotel room. And then she’d been summoned to Harold’s office to be accused of having an affair with John—her boss and her mentor, a man she loved and admired. A man she looked up to as a career-related father figure. John was, after all, twenty years her senior. He had been divorced when she had first met him, with two sons he adored, and she had been delighted for him when he had become engaged to a wealthy American socialite, a divorcée of his own age whom he had met in New York, even though she had never actually been able to warm to Nancy herself.

One dark, sardonically arched eyebrow told her exactly what Vasilii thought of her hot denial.

‘Very well—yes. I was offered that choice,’ she felt forced to agree. ‘But I was not having an affair with John. He was my mentor—a father figure to me in many ways. We were not having an affair,’ she stated again fiercely.

‘Your CEO thought you were. In fact he was so convinced of it that he offered you the choice of leaving of your own accord, with the whole matter being kept private, or of being subjected to a very public dismissal, with all the damage that would do to your professional reputation. Harold Johnson has very strong views on the morals he expects from those who work under him. He is also an extremely astute CEO, so I doubt he would make such an accusation against a valued and valuable member of his team if he wasn’t convinced of their guilt. Was he convinced of your guilt, Ms Westcotte?’

Laura exhaled shakily.

‘Yes. Yes, he was,’ she admitted.

‘And he was convinced because he and John Metcalfe’s fiancée found you in Metcalfe’s bed. Isn’t that also the truth?’

‘Yes …’

As the excruciating scene came rushing back, Laura could hear in her own voice the dying of her hopes of Vasilii offering her the job. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the condemnatory look in the flint-grey gaze that right now was clinically ripping her pride to shreds.

Laura didn’t know, but something definitely gave her the determination and the strength to insist, ‘But it wasn’t how it looked. John and I had been working late on a project for a client and the client had taken us both out to dinner, and then a nightclub. There had recently been articles in the papers about young women being at risk in using cabs late at night—especially from nightclubs. We were both tired, and we knew we’d got an early start in the morning, so John suggested I stay overnight in his hotel suite. We’d done it before …’

‘Before? Before he had become engaged? When he was a single man?’

‘Yes. But …’

‘I understand that at the time you elected to share John Metcalfe’s suite he and his fiancée were having relationship problems. She had told him that she believed your feelings for him were not those of a mere work colleague.’

‘I didn’t know about that. John is tremendously loyal. He would never have discussed his relationship with Nancy with me. I had no idea that she had told him that she wasn’t happy about the two of us continuing to work so closely together.’

‘Because she felt that you wanted to usurp her position in his life and become his wife?’

‘That’s what she told Harold,’ Laura was forced to agree. ‘John told me afterwards that she didn’t like the fact that he was having to work such long hours.’

‘But you, of course, were happy to share those long hours—and his bed.’

‘No. I’ve already told you. John and I were close, it’s true, but he was never anything more to me than a mentor and a father figure.’

‘You were discovered in his bed.’

‘Yes, because he’d insisted that I take it. He slept on the sofa in the sitting room of the suite.’

‘A very convenient excuse and one that can’t be proved. Though your willingness to walk away and not fight to prove your so-called innocence speaks volumes.’

Laura closed her eyes. Yes, she had walked away—but only to spare her elderly aunt the stress and upset of watching her niece go through in public what Vasilii was putting her through now.

Vasilii was right in one respect. The fact she had not shared a bed with John could not be proved. But the fact they had never been lovers could—since she was still a virgin. Not, of course, that she was ever going to admit that to anyone—much less this man. It was her embarrassing secret. A woman in her twenties who had next to no real sexual experience because … Because she had been too busy with her education. Because she had simply not met the right man at the right time. Never because of that crush she’d had on the man now standing in front of her with such contempt in his gaze. The very thought of ever being challenged to admit that it was because of Vasilii that she was still a virgin, because her crush on him had been so intense that she had simply never desired anyone else with the same intensity, made her feel weak with angry shame.

But that did not alter the fact that Vasilii was wrong about her and wrong to accuse her as he had. She’d chosen to walk away before, but now she was determined to defend herself—and fully intended to do so.

‘You obviously want to think that.’

The words were out before Laura could silence them. She wasn’t going to apologise for them, though. Not even with Vasilii giving her a look as dangerous as the scimitar swords of his desert ancestor warlords.

‘Meaning?’ he demanded.

‘Meaning that you want to think badly of me,’ Laura told him, standing her ground. ‘Harold and Nancy’s interpretation of what they saw was the wrong one. John and I both told them that, but they didn’t want to listen—just as you don’t want to listen. You’ve judged me already, and on someone else’s assessment of me. I’d assumed from what I’ve read about you that you are a man who makes his own judgements rather than a man who runs with the herd.’

Vasilii was hard put to it to conceal his disbelief. Once again she was actually daring to challenge him. She had a certain proud independence about her—he had to give her that. But independence wasn’t what he was looking for in a PA.

‘I take on board the opinions of others. Who doesn’t? And what my own opinion tells me is that so far, despite your excellent CV, nothing you have said inclines me to think that I want to employ you as my PA—a position that demands that the person who fills it is two hundred per cent trustworthy and reliable. You are neither of those things. The accusation made against you in your previous employment proves that you are not trustworthy, and I already know from my own experience that you are if not specifically unreliable then at least not someone who puts duty ahead of their own pleasures.’

There—that should put her in her place and stop her from looking at him with that clear-eyed look of female pride that for some reason made him think about all the ways in which, as a man, that pride challenged him. All the ways? Vasilii tensed against the unwanted question. If he was aware of her as a woman then it was only because he needed to assess her so thoroughly. The last thing he wanted was a female PA who was going to create sexual havoc everywhere she went.

From his own experience? What did he mean?

Laura intended to find out. ‘What experience?’ she demanded angrily. ‘This is the first time we have met.’

‘In person, perhaps, but I am well aware of the way you behaved when your aunt—who was employed by me to provide my sister with female company here in London—requested you to stand in for her, when she was taken to the hospital. When my sister telephoned you to pass on your aunt’s request you decided to go to New York with friends instead—even though you must have known that your aunt was depending on you. In my opinion a person who does not fulfil their obligations to their family is not likely to fulfil those same obligations to an employer.’

Laura’s head was a whirlwind of stunned thoughts. This was the first she had heard about any of this. The last thing she would ever do was let her aunt down, and her first instinct was to say as much. But even as she opened her mouth to tell him that she had never at any time received a telephone call from his sister, never mind refused to help her aunt because she preferred to go to New York with friends, she remembered once listening to Alena as a schoolgirl, complaining to her aunt when she had come to the matron’s room to ask for a headache tablet that her half-brother was very strict with her, and had advised her parents against allowing her to spend the weekend with another pupil.

‘Just because he doesn’t approve of her brother,’ Alena had protested.

Whilst Laura had sympathised with her, a small part of her had envied her for having such a protective brother—but then, of course, in those days Vasilii could do no wrong as far as she had been concerned. Now, though, she was old enough to think that Alena might have had her own reasons for lying to Vasilii, and a certain sisterly solidarity was making her feel that she didn’t want to betray the other girl—even if that solidarity came at the cost of being misjudged.

After all, what was the point in trying to defend herself when it was plain that he wanted to think the worst of her? Immoral and unreliable—that was what he thought of her.

Surely that wasn’t a sharp stab of pain she felt? Why on earth should the biased opinion of a man so condemnatory and arrogant that she already thoroughly disliked him cause her to feel pain? It wasn’t pain—it was misery at the thought of not getting the job she needed so much, Laura assured herself.

‘Nothing to say?’ Vasilii challenged her.

‘What would be the point?’ Laura asked. ‘Since you have obviously already made up your mind about me.’

She wasn’t going to let him see just how desperately it mattered that she wasn’t going to get the job. Lifting her chin she told him coolly, ‘I don’t see that there is any point in us wasting any more of one another’s time. Obviously you don’t want me to be your PA.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Vasilii agreed curtly, and paused before adding reluctantly, ‘However, unfortunately—given the excellence of your CV in respect of your language and negotiating skills, the inability of any headhunter to find me a candidate to better them, and the immediacy of my need to find a new PA—I have decided on this occasion I have no alternative other than to put to one side my scruples and offer you a temporary contract to cover the next six months. If at the end of that time my negotiations with the Chinese have been concluded to my satisfaction, then in addition to your salary there will be a generous bonus payment.’

Oh, how she longed to be in a position to turn down his offer, Laura thought helplessly. But of course she couldn’t. She could tell from his voice how much he resented having to offer her the job. He hadn’t let her know that out of weakness or vulnerability. No, he had told her because he wanted her to know just how much contempt he had for her. If she had felt hard done by before, at being falsely accused and then used as a scapegoat for Nancy’s unfounded jealousy, that was nothing to the raw, bitter taste of misery she was being forced to swallow down now. She wasn’t going to let him think she was grateful, though.

Lifting her chin, she told Vasilii as valiantly as she could, ‘Unfortunately for me I have no option other than to accept your offer. But that does not mean that I want to accept it, or that I want to work for you. I don’t.’

Their mutual antagonism crackled hostilely on the air between them.

‘And just to make things crystal-clear to you,’ Vasilii continued, ‘whatever your modus operandi or your personal agenda might have been in your previous post, in this one as my PA our relationship will be strictly business. Any woman who thinks that working for me is a shortcut to my bed and via that to a marriage licence will be making a big mistake.’

His bed? For a moment Laura was gripped by panic—had he somehow with some dangerous power managed to learn about her teenage crush? A thousand bolts of searing self-consciousness burned through her. But then her common sense returned. Of course he didn’t know. No one had ever known. Not even her aunt. Even so, she wanted to make it clear to him that she wasn’t someone who would run after a man—any man, but especially not him.

‘Both you and your bed are perfectly safe from me,’ she assured him. Unable to stop herself from giving way to her emotions, she couldn’t resist adding fiercely, ‘You obviously think that you’re a wonderful catch, but I certainly don’t. If and when I ever marry it will be because I love the man I am marrying and because he loves me in return—because we both want to make a lifetime commitment to be there for one another.’