Alexei's Passionate Revenge. Helen Bianchin
plus aspect being a very satisfactory salary package.
It would be interesting to discover how many office staff employed by her father had been retained.
As yet the new owner’s identity hadn’t been disclosed, with one media-projected rumour referring to an American-based billionaire.
If correct, she mentally sketched him as being over fifty, maybe older, with access to inherited family money. Of average height, possibly bearing a paunch, together with thinning hair or a toupee.
A new broom sweeping clean...or perhaps a figurehead content to delegate and spend time schmoozing at various functions with the city’s social elite?
Whatever...first impressions were key, and she tamped down the faint onset of nerves as she approached the CEO’s executive area.
‘We’re not fully operational until Monday. Just knock on the door and walk right in,’ Marc Adamson had instructed.
Okay, no problem.
She had a signed contract as proof the position was hers. All she had to do was smile, be professional and relax.
What could possibly go wrong?
Natalya curled fingers into her palm, rapped a firm double knock against the open heavily panelled door and entered a spacious office containing high quality furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookcases along one wall.
A quick glance revealed a wide custom-made desk bearing a laptop, various electronic devices, in front of which there were four single studded leather chairs spread out in a spacious semi-circle.
Within scant seconds it made a statement—wealth, excellent taste and power.
It was then she registered the tall broad-shouldered male frame silhouetted against a wall of reinforced plate-glass, affording an angled glimpse of strong features, a firm jawline, dark groomed hair.
A corporate wolf in his mid to late thirties clothed in black designer jeans, open-necked white shirt and a black soft leather jacket was vastly different from her preconceived image of the new company CEO.
A swift unbidden curl of sensation deep within surprised her, and was immediately discounted as a ridiculous flight of imagination.
Alexei held the advantage, one he used without compunction as he slowly turned to face the young woman who’d once shared a part of his life.
Dark almost black eyes regarded her steadily...waiting for the moment recognition hit.
As it did within a few fleeting seconds, and Alexei took pleasure in witnessing the faint widening of her eyes, the way her mouth parted, the quick swallow as if a sudden lump had risen in her throat as she visibly fought to school her expression into a polite mask.
Alexei? Here?
Coherent words momentarily failed her big-time, as she struggled to control the feeling she’d been hit by a forceful, if metaphorical, punch in the solar plexus.
Breathe, she bade herself silently as emotions rose to the surface, a gamut almost defying description, for how often had she attempted to cast aside images from their shared past?
Too many times to count.
Nights, on the edge of sleep, were the worst.
For it was then the memories returned to haunt her...the way his smile affected each and every pulse in her body; the gentle trail of his fingers down her cheek to trace her soft trembling lips. His mouth savouring her own, teasing, tasting, as he drove her wild with wanting more. The heat in his dark gleaming eyes a prelude to mind-blowing intimacy.
Five years on there was no warmth apparent in his demeanour, just an inflexibility that sent a chill scudding down her spine.
What did you expect...a romantic reunion?
Seriously?
After five years... Are you insane?
From a time when she’d been able to accurately define his every expression, now she felt as if she’d been flung into a maelstrom of wild conjecture where nothing made any sense as he allowed the ensuing seconds to weigh heavily in the electrified air permeating the room.
Her mind reeled with unvoiced questions. Initially, his motive to buy out the firm formerly owned by her father?
Rapidly followed by...how could Alexei Delandros have accumulated so much wealth in the space of five years?
Groomed designer stubble shadowed his jaw, adding an edgy quality, and there was a hardness apparent which didn’t equate with the man she’d once known...and loved.
Natalya kept her eyes fixed on his in a determined effort not to escape his steady gaze. An act of defiance...or a mix of self-preservation and stubborn pride?
Both, she conceded.
Alexei took a degree of dispassionate interest as he examined Natalya’s slender curves, narrow waist, slim hips, showcased in a black tailored business suit, with killer heels emphasising toned legs encased in sheer hose.
Subtle use of cosmetics enhanced her delicately boned face, emphasising expressive dark eyes and generously curved mouth.
The length of brunette hair styled into a sleek chignon made his fingers itch to free the pins to allow the thick waves to frame her face.
Professional cool...successfully achieved, Alexei admitted.
Absent was the vibrant, fun-loving girl who’d once embraced the world and all it had to offer. The sweet curve of her mouth parting in a laughing smile...eyes sparkling with teasing humour. The touch of her mouth on his own, magical, incredibly sensual as passion transcended to intimacy.
Alexei lifted one dark eyebrow in a gesture of musing cynicism. ‘Nothing to say, Natalya?’
Where would you like me to begin? presented a tempting start.
Instead, she cut straight to the point. ‘If this is some kind of sick game,’ she offered with controlled calm, ‘I refuse to be a part of it.’
He’d expected no less of her, given his deliberate act to conceal the new owner’s identity from the media.
He inclined his head in silent mockery, enlightening, ‘I prefer...a calculated strategy.’
Any sense of calm was discarded as anger rose to the surface, almost robbing her of speech as she fought the desire to slap his face hard.
‘What else from a man such as you?’
Dark eyes speared her own. ‘You have no knowledge of the man I’ve become.’
So very different from the Alexei she’d once known as memories flashed through her mind...hauntingly real for a few heart-stopping seconds as she recalled her body beneath his...supple, avid, in a manner that drove her wild.
For him, only him.
Dear God in heaven...stop.
Reflection in any form was a madness she could ill afford.
Almost as if he knew the passage of her thoughts he indicated the nest of chairs framing the front of his desk. ‘Take a seat.’
Natalya spared him a dark glare, which had no effect whatsoever. ‘I prefer to stand.’
He merely inclined his head...and waited.
An action which ramped her animosity up a notch, and her eyes speared his as she sought a measure of calm. ‘The employment contract your henchman presented for my signature bears no mention of your name.’
‘Henchman, Natalya?’ The query held a vague musing quality. ‘Marc Adamson is ADE’s legal consultant.’ He eased his lengthy frame against the edge of his desk as he spelled it out. ‘Alexei Delandros Electronics.’
‘Very cleverly disguised in the contract I signed,’ she accused as she reached into her satchel, removed the folded document, ripped it in half, then tossed the