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The Last Kolovsky Playboy
CAROL MARINELLI
Rich, Russian and reckless… or ready to wed?Infamous playboy Aleksi Kolovsky has stunned the world by getting engaged! But the ring on his fiancée’s finger doesn’t mean for ever…just until the House of Kolovsky deeds are signed over to him.Aleksi told his PA Kate to think of their mock engagement as a promotion, but there are certain fringe benefits she hadn’t considered…like discovering if Aleksi’s reputation as a phenomenal lover really does precede him! Overtime suddenly has a whole new meaning!The House of Kolovsky Billionaire brothers take a bride!


‘How, precisely, would a single mother and her entourage living in your home help you, Aleksi?’
‘It would show responsibility. It would prove to the board…’ He hesitated. ‘I thought about what you said—maybe I do need a change of attitude to win the board over. Let them see that I am settling down, that I am serious about the business of Kolovsky.’

‘Settling down?’ she repeated flatly.

‘We could say you were my fiancée. Just for a couple of months—just till I get the board’s vote.’

‘No.’

It was a definite answer, but one Aleksi refused to accept.

‘No.’ She said it again, even shot out an incredulous laugh at his ridiculous thought process.

‘Think about it.’ He drained his mug and walked over to her, shrinking the kitchen and making her feel impossibly claustrophobic as he stood before her, then leant forward a touch to place his mug on the bench behind him. She could smell him, smell the danger of him, and in that moment Kate knew he was deadly serious—had worked with him long enough to know that Aleksi didn’t make idle offers.

To know that Aleksi always got his way.

The Last Kolovsky Playboy
by

Carol Marinelli



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

About the Author
CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation, and after chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth: ‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Carol also writes for Mills & Boon® Medical™ Romance!

Prologue
SHE couldn’t go back in there.
Or rather she couldn’t go back in there like this.
Kate’s heart was hammering, her face burning in a blush, and her hands were shaking as she frothed the coffee for her boss, Levander Kolovsky, and his younger half brother, Aleksi.
Never, never, had she reacted so violently to someone.
And, at thirty-six weeks pregnant, she certainly hadn’t been expecting to today!
Aleksi Kolovsky was over from London for a working visit to the Australian head office and she had thought she’d known what to expect. After all, he had an identical twin brother, whom Kate had met, so she basically knew what he looked like and she’d heard all about his reputation with women.
It wasn’t his good-looks she had reacted to, though—the House of Kolovsky head office was swarming with beauties. Kate had been petrified when the temp agency had sent her there, and she was quite sure Levander had only kept her on because she was brilliant at her job and because she was temporary. A permanent PA to a Kolovsky needed to be more than brilliant at her job; she needed to be stunning, and Kate was nowhere near that.
No, it was something other than Aleksi’s looks that had caused this reaction.
Something else that had made her heart trip as she’d walked into Levander’s office—something else that had caused her body to flood with heat as the rogue bad brother had looked up from the papers he’d been skimming through and given her a wide-eyed look.
‘Should you really be here?’ His voice was deep and low, with just a hint of accent, and those grey eyes with their black depths skimmed over her pregnant stomach and then back to her face.
He had a point! She was massive with child, rather than possessing a nice little bump like some of the Kolovsky maternity models, whose only indication of pregnancy was a lovely round abdomen and an extra size to their AA bra cup. No, pregnancy for Kate Taylor meant that her whole body was swollen from her breasts to her ankles. She was so obviously, uncomfortably, heavily pregnant that Aleksi was right—she really shouldn’t be here.
‘I’m sorry?’ Kate had surprised herself with her own response. Normally she would have given him a brief, polite smile. After four months of working for the Kolovsky fashion house she was more than used to making polite small talk with the rich and famous, more than used to melting into the background, but for some reason the real Kate had answered. For some reason she hadn’t been able to help but sustain a tiny tease.
‘You look as if you’re due any moment,’ Aleksi persisted.
‘Due for what?’ Kate frowned, and she watched those impassive features flutter in brief panic, watched that haughty, confident expression suddenly falter as for one appalling moment Aleksi Kolovsky thought he had made the worst social gaffe—that she wasn’t in fact pregnant at all!
‘Due for a raise.’ Levander gave a rare laugh as he watched his brother squirm. ‘You’ve certainly earned it. Not many people can make my brother blush.’
‘She is pregnant though?’ Kate had heard Aleksi ask as she’d slipped out to make the coffee.
‘What do you think?’ Levander’s smile lingered after Kate had left, enjoying his brother’s rare moment of discomfort. ‘Sadly, yes.’
‘Sadly?’
‘I’m trying to ignore the fact that she could give birth at any moment. This place was in chaos till Kate started, and now she’s sorted everything out. I actually know where I’m supposed to be for the next few weeks, and she’s great with even the most difficult client.’
‘She’ll be back…’
‘Nope.’ Levander shook his head. ‘She’s just a temp. She only wanted a few weeks’ work. She broke up with her boyfriend and moved to Melbourne. She’s just trying to get ahead, and has no intention of coming back once the baby arrives.’
That was all Levander said before their attention turned back to work, and Kate needn’t have worried about Aleksi noticing her blush or shaking hands. The two men were immersed in some project when she returned with the coffee a few moments later. Aleksi’s head was down, black fringe flopping forward as he skimmed through a document. He didn’t even murmur thanks.
Still, for the next two weeks he came every day, and generally stopped by her desk and said hello—asked how she was getting on as they waited for Levander to return from his morning run. Sometimes he told her a little about London, where he lived, heading up the UK branch of Kolovsky, and sometimes, rarely for Aleksi, he asked a little about herself. Maybe it was because she’d never see him again, maybe because she was so bone-weary and so lonely, but Kate was honest in her replies.
She was honest, all right, Aleksi discovered.
About how petrified she was at the prospect of being a single mum, how her family were miles away, how she dreaded the hospital…
Then, on his last morning before he headed back for the UK, when there was an important meeting with Levander, his father, Ivan, and his mother, Nina, and the prospect of three hours in his parents’ company was causing black rivers of bile to churn in his stomach, he found the one thing he was actually looking forward to as he stepped out of the lift was Kate’s kind smile and the endless stream of coffee she’d bring to the meeting.
Instead, five feet ten inches of whippet-like flesh, a mask of make-up and a head that looked too big for its body smiled from behind the desk.
‘Good morning, Mr Kolovsky, everyone’s waiting for you. Can I bring you in a coffee?’
‘Where’s Kate?’ Aleksi asked as the lollipop head blinked.
‘Oh?’ She frowned. ‘You mean the temp…She had her baby last night.’
‘What did she have?’
The lollipop shrugged, and Aleksi wondered if her clavicles might snap.
‘I’m not sure. Actually, thanks for reminding me. I’ll ring the hospital and find out. Levander said to arrange a gift.’
It was the longest meeting. Coffee, and then morning coffee, and then lunch at the desk—it wasn’t often the three Kolovsky sons and their parents were together. Aleksi’s identical twin, Iosef, had taken a day off from the hospital where he was a doctor, and they had all sat in silence as Ivan told them about his illness, his sketchy prognosis, and the necessity that no one must know.
‘People get sick,’ Iosef had stated. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Kolovskys cannot be seen as weak.’
And they spoke about figures and projections, and a new line that was due for release, and the fact that Aleksi would appear at all the European fashion shows while Ivan underwent his treatment. Levander would cover Australasia.
Iosef, by then, had long since left.
Despite the gloomy subject matter, it was a meeting devoid of emotion and the coffee tasted absolutely awful.
‘Shto skazeenar v ehtoy komnarteh asstoyotsar v ehtoy komnarteh.’ His mother’s eyes met his as Aleksi stood to leave for London. No Have a nice trip from her, just a cold warning that what was said in this room was to stay in the room. The trickles of bile turned into one deep dark lake and Aleksi felt sick—felt as if he were a child again, back in his bedroom with his parents standing over him, warning him not to speak of his pain, not to reveal anything, not to weep.
Kolovskys were not weak.
Levander said goodbye to him as if he were going out to the shops rather than heading to the other side of the world.
As Aleksi headed out through the plush foyer he saw a vast basket, filled with flowers, champagne and a thick, blush-pink silk Kolovsky blanket, waiting for the courier to collect it.
Kate must have had a girl.

Rarely did Aleksi question his motives, rarely did he stop for insight, and he didn’t now, as he went through the gold revolving doors to the waiting car that would speed him to the airport. He went around again, stepped back into the foyer, and with a few short words at the bemused receptionist, picked up the basket. When he was seated in the back of the luxury car, he read out the address to his driver.
‘I can take it in for you, sir,’ his driver said as they arrived at the large, sprawling concrete jungle of a hospital.
But somehow he wanted something he could not define.
His father was dying and he was so numb he couldn’t feel.
He didn’t understand why he was standing at a desk asking for directions to Kate’s room, didn’t really stop to pause as he took the lift, was only aware that the place smelt nothing like the private wings he occasionally graced. And, yes, he was just a touch nervous as to her reaction, what her visitors might say, if he’d be intruding, but he wanted to say goodbye to her.

For Kate, the last twenty-four hours had been hell.
Twelve hours of fruitless labour, followed by an emergency Caesarean. Her daughter lay pink and pretty in her crib beside her, but Kate was the loneliest she had ever been in her life.
Her parents would be in to visit tonight, but after her phone conversation with Craig she held out little hope that he would appear.
No, the pain of labour and surgery was nothing compared to the shame and loneliness she felt at visiting time.
She could see the curious, sympathetic stares from the other three mothers and their visitors at her unadorned bed, devoid of balloons, flowers and cards.
She was just alone and embarrassed to be seen alone.
Unwanted.
She’d asked the nurse to pull the curtains, but she’d misunderstood and had pulled them right back—exposing the bed, exposing her shame.
And then there he was.
He read her in an instant.
Read the other mothers too, saw the dart of incredulity in their eyes as he smiled over to her, as they realised that he was there to see her. Could he be…? Surely not! But then again…
‘I am so sorry, darling!’
His voice had a confident ring as he strode across the drab four-bed ward, and he looked completely out of place, still in a suit, his tie pulled loose. He came over to the bed, deposited the glorious Kolovsky basket on her bedside table and looked down to where she lay.
Her face was swollen, her eyes bloodshot from the effort of pushing. Aleksi had thought women lost weight when they gave birth, but Kate seemed to have doubled in size. Her dark wavy hair was black with grease and sweat, but she gave him a half-smile and Aleksi was glad that he had come.
‘Can you ever forgive me for not being there?’ He said it loud enough for the others to hear.
‘Stop it.’ She almost giggled, but it hurt too much to laugh. ‘They think you’re the father.’
‘Well, given that’s never going to be true…’ he lowered his voice and, so as not to hurt her, very gently lowered himself on the bed ‘…it might be fun to pretend.’ He looked at her poor bloodshot eyes. ‘Was it awful?’
‘Hell.’
‘Why all the drips?’
‘I had to have surgery.’ She watched him wince.
‘When do you go home?’
‘In a couple of days.’ Kate shivered at the prospect. She couldn’t even lift her baby; the thought of being completely responsible for her was overwhelming.
‘That’s way too soon!’ Aleksi was appalled. ‘I think my cousin had a Caesarean and she was in for at least a week…’ He thought back to the plush private ward, the baby he had glimpsed from behind the glass wall of the nursery. He glanced into the crib, about to make a cursory polite comment, and then he actually smiled, because struggling to focus back at him was surely the cutest baby in the world. Completely bald, she had big, dark blue eyes and her mother’s full pink lips.
‘She’s gorgeous.’ He wasn’t being polite; he was being honest.
‘Because she’s a Caesarean, apparently,’ Kate said. ‘I think her eyes will be brown by the time I get her home.’ And then she asked him, ‘Aleksi, what on earth are you doing here?’
‘I’m on my way to the airport.’ When she didn’t look convinced he gave a shrug. ‘Five hours in my parents’ company and maybe I needed something different.’ He stared back to the baby. ‘She’s awake.’
‘Do you want to hold her?’
‘God, no!’ Aleksi said, and then he changed his mind, because maybe he did need something different. ‘Won’t I disturb her?’
‘She’s awake,’ Kate pointed out.
‘I thought they were supposed to cry.’ He knew nothing about babies, had no intention of finding out about babies, and yet he was curious to hold her—and so he did.
Big hands went into the clear bassinette and lifted the soft bundle. Kate’s immediate instinct was to remind him to support her head, yet she bit on her lip and silenced the warning, because he already had, and for a stupid blind moment she wished the impossible.
Wished, from the tender way he held her baby, that somehow her baby was his too.
‘My dad’s sick,’ he told her. It was top secret information, and he knew she could sell those words for tens of thousands, yet at that moment he was past caring. He held new life in his hands and he smelt an unfamiliar sweet fragrance. He ran a finger over a cheek he could only liken to a new kitten’s paw—before it was let outside to a world that would roughen and harden it.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No one’s allowed to know,’ Aleksi said, still looking down at the baby. ‘What’s she called?’
‘Georgina,’ Kate said.
‘Georgie.’ Aleksi smiled at his new friend.
‘Georgina!’ Kate corrected.
‘I wonder if I was this cute.’ Aleksi frowned. ‘Imagine two of them.’
Kate rolled her eyes. Two identical Kolovskys in a crib—they’d have had the maternity ward at a standstill!
‘I can’t imagine you cute,’ she said instead.
‘Oh, I was!’ Aleksi grinned. ‘Iosef was the serious one.’ He put Georgina down and his grin turned to a very nice, slightly pensive smile. ‘You’re going to be wonderful as a mother.’
‘How?’ And whether it was hormones, exhaustion or just plain old fear, tears shot from her eyes as her bravery crumbled. ‘I want it to be wonderful for her, but how will I manage it?’
‘It will be,’ Aleksi said assuredly. ‘My parents had everything and they managed to completely mess us all up. You, on the other hand…’ he stared into her soft brown eyes and didn’t see the bloodshot whites, just tears and concern and a certain stoicism there, laced with kindness too ‘…are going to get it so right.’ And then it was over. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Thank you.’
She braced herself for him to stand, tightened up her non-existent abdominal muscles as he went to stand, anticipating pain but getting something else. His arms came around her, that gorgeous face moved in and she smelt him—smelt Kolovsky cologne and something else, something male and unique that made her blush just as it had on that first day, just as she knew it always would.
‘Let’s leave your audience with no room for doubt.’
And then he kissed her.
Terribly, terribly tenderly—she was, after all, just twelve hours post-op—but there was this taste and this passion and this heaven that she found on his lips…this gorgeous, delicious escape that was delivered with his mouth and then the cool danger of his tongue. And to the nay-sayers on the ward he proved this wasn’t a duty call.
‘I have to get this flight.’
He should have been on the stage, Kate thought, because there was regret in his eyes and voice as he walked out of the ward. She lay back on the pillow, eyes closed, but basking in the glow of the curious looks from the other mothers and their oh, so plain partners.
Only she didn’t get to enjoy them for very long.
Lost in a dream, still basking in the memory, she was very rudely interrupted as a porter kicked off the brakes on her bed.
‘You’re being moved.’
‘Where?’
Oh, God—she so didn’t want this. Didn’t want to start again with three other mothers—or, worse, maybe she was being moved to an eight-bed ward.
‘You’re being upgraded.’
Five years ago, on a business flight to Singapore, her stingy boss had been overruled by ground staff and she had been invited to turn left, not right, as she stepped onto the plane.
It happened again that afternoon.
Her bed slid easily out of the public section, over the buffed tiles, and then stuck a little as it hit the soft carpets of the private wing, as if warning the porter—warning everyone—that she didn’t really belong there.
But who cared?
Not the staff.
Aleksi Kolovsky had covered her for a full week.
It was bliss to move into the large double bed.
Heaven to stare at the five-star menu as Georgina was whisked to the nursery to be brought back later for feeding.
It was, Kate reflected later that night, as a lovely midwife took Georgina for the night and clicked off the light, the second nicest thing that had ever happened to her.
The first nicest thing had been his kiss.

Chapter One
IT DIDN’T hurt as much as everyone said that it should.
His leg, fractured and mangled in a road accident, would, he had been told, mean six months of extensive rehabilitation—and then perhaps he might walk with an aid.
Four months to the day since the accident that had almost taken his life, Aleksi Kolovsky waded through the glittering Caribbean ocean unaided. The doctor had suggested two fifteen-minute sessions a day.
It was his third hourly session, and it was not yet midday.
Whatever he was advised to do, he did more of it.
Whatever the treatment, he headed straight for the cure.
After all, he had done this once before—under circumstances far worse than this.
He had been a child without doctors, without physios, without this stunning backdrop and the cool ocean that now soothed his aching muscles. He had rehabilitated his fractured body himself—first in the confines of his room till the bruises had faded, and then, without grimacing, without wincing, he had walked and returned to schooling. Not even his twin, Iosef, had been aware of his struggles; Aleksi had privately continued his healing behind the closed walls of his mind.
Iosef—his identical twin.
He smiled a wry smile. He had watched a show last night on the television. Well, he hadn’t exactly watched it, it had been on in the background, and he had not paid it full attention. His attention had instead been on the skilled lips working on his tumescent length to raise it to its splendid glory. It had been a different attention, though. Normally he switched off, sex the balm—not any more. The television had been too loud as it spoke of telepathic bonds between twins, and the woman’s sighs had been grating. Since the accident, chatter annoyed him, conversation irritated him, and last night her lips had not soothed him. He had hardened, but it had been just mechanical, an automated response that, despite her delight, had not pleased Aleksi. Though he’d yearned for relief, he had realised he wouldn’t get it from her. However, there was a reputation to be upheld, so he’d shifted their position.
He’d heard her cries as he did the right thing, pleasuring her with his mouth, and then had feigned reluctance at the disturbance from his phone.
His phone buzzed regularly.
There had been no need to answer it—except last night he had chosen to. Chosen to make excuses as to why she must leave, rather than give that piece of himself to her.
Was even the escape of sex to be denied him?
The sun beat on his shoulders—his skin was brown, his body lean and toned, and he appeared a picture of health above the water. But the scars stung beneath as he stretched his limits and made himself run in the water.
Now it hurt.
It hurt like hell, but he pushed through it.
Could his brother in Australia feel this? Aleksi thought as he sliced the water and forced himself on. Was Iosef, working in an Emergency ward in Australia, suddenly sweating and gripped by pain as he went about his day?
Aleksi doubted it.
Oh, he had no animosity towards Iosef—he admired that he had broken away from the company and gone on to study medicine. Still they chatted, and met regularly. Aleksi liked him, in fact. But there was no telepathic bond, no sharing of minds, no sixth sense…
Where had the twin bond been when his father had beaten him to a pulp when he was only seven years old?
Where had the sixth sense been when a week later his brother had been allowed in to see him?
‘Some fall…’ Iosef had said, in Russian of course—because even in Australia the Kolovskys had spoken in Russian.
‘Dad is getting you a new bike.’ Iosef had come to sit on the bed, laughing and chatting, but as the mattress had indented a white bolt of pain had shot through Aleksi and he had gone to cry out. Then he had seen the warning in his mother’s eyes.
‘Good,’ he had said instead.
There was no special bond Aleksi realised.
You did not ache, you did not bleed just because your brother did.
He ran faster.
Riminic, Riminic, Riminic.
Even the gulls taunted him with the name.
A brother whose existence he had denied.
A brother he had chosen to forget.
There was no end to his shame, and his leg wouldn’t let him outrun it.
Sprint over, he was spent, and glad to be exhausted. Maybe now he could get some rest.
The nurse had his pills waiting when he returned to the lavish chalet, but he refused them. He drank instead a cocktail of vitamins and fresh juice and headed for his bedroom.
‘I’m going to rest.’
‘Would you like me to come in?’ She smiled. ‘To check on you?’
He growled out a refusal of her kind offer—could he not just recover? Could he not have some peace?
He lay on the silk sheets, the fan cooling his warm skin, yet his blood felt frozen.
The pain did not scare him—it was the damage to his mind. He had passed every test, had convinced the doctors that he was fine—could at times almost convince himself that he was—but there was a blur of memories, conversations that he could not recall, images that he could not summon, knowledge that lay buried.
The phone buzzed.
He went to turn it off.
Tired, he needed to rest.
And then he saw her name.
Kate.
Aleksi hesitated before answering. Kate was one of the reasons he was in the West Indies recovering—he had grown accustomed to her by his bedside, looked forward rather too much to her visits in the hospital and started to rely on her just a little too heavily. And Aleksi had long since chosen to rely on no-one.
‘What?’ His voice was curt.
‘You said to tell you if…’
Her voice came to him over the phone from halfway around the world. He could hear that she was nervous and he didn’t blame her. Nina would go berserk if she found out that Kate was calling. Aleksi was not to be disturbed with mundane work matters—except Aleksi had told Kate that he wanted to be disturbed.
‘Tell me what, Kate?’ Aleksi said. He could picture her round, kind face, and was quite sure that she was blushing. Kate blushed a lot—she was a large girl, surrounded by whip-thin models. The House of Kolovsky was a bitchy place to work at the best of times, and at the worst of times it was a snake pit—right now it was the worst of times. ‘Remember, no matter what my mother says, your loyalty is to me—you are my PA.’
She had been his PA for over a year now. He had cajoled her into taking the position when yet another PA of his had been so stupid as to confuse sex with love. Safe in the knowledge that he would never cross the line with an overweight single mum, he had contacted her. Georgie was now nearly five years old and at school, and Kate was even bigger than before—no, there was absolutely no question of his fancying her.
‘Your brother Levander…’ Kate stammered. ‘You know he and Millie were looking to adopt an orphan…?’
‘And?’
‘They went to Russia last week; they met him—their new son…’
Aleksi closed his eyes; he had feared this day would come sooner than was convenient. Levander had run the House of Kolovsky head branch in Australia. He had been sensible, and on their father’s death a couple of years ago he had got out. Now he worked in London, taking over Aleksi’s old role, while Aleksi had taken over the running of Kolovsky—effectively a swap. Levander had only returned to Australia while Aleksi recuperated.
‘I’ve heard Nina talking; she is going to run it…’
‘Run what?’
‘House of Kolovsky.’ Kate gulped. ‘She has these ideas…’
‘Levander would never—’ Aleksi started, but then again Levander now would. Since he had met Millie, since they had had Sashar, his priorities had shifted. Money had never been Levander’s god. Raised in Detsky Dom, an orphanage in Russia, he had no real allegiance to the Kolovskys—Nina wasn’t his mother, and with Ivan dead Aleksi knew that Levander’s priorities were with his own family now—his new family, one that wanted to save a child from the hell Levander had endured.
‘She has told Levander not to tell you,’ Kate explained. ‘That no one is to disturb you with this—that you need this time to heal.’
‘The board will not pass it.’
‘Nina has new plans, ideas that will generate a lot of money…’
She had stopped stammering now. Despite her shyness at times, Kate was an articulate, intelligent woman, which was why he had bent over backwards to get her on staff. She was different from all the others. Her only interest at work was work—which she did very capably, so she could earn the money to single-handedly raise her daughter.
‘She will convince the board, and she has ideas that they like.’
‘Ideas?’ Aleksi snorted.
‘She makes them sound attractive,’ Kate said. ‘I sat in on a meeting last week. She put forward a proposal from Zakahr Belenki…’
Despite the warmth of the room Aleksi felt his blood chill. ‘What sort of proposal?’
‘One that will benefit both Kolovsky and Belenki’s charity,’ Kate said. ‘They are talking of a new range—bridal dresses in the Krasavitsa outlets with a percentage of profit…’
Aleksi didn’t hear much more. He was aware of his racing heart, as if he were pounding his battered body through the ocean this very minute, except he was lying perfectly still on the bed. The Krasavitsa offshoot of the Kolovsky business was his baby—his idea, his domain. But it wasn’t just that Nina was considering tampering with his baby that had Aleksi’s heart hammering like this.
What was the problem with Belenki?
His mind, though Aleksi had denied it both to his family and to the doctors, was damaged.
Thoughts, images, and memories were a mere stretch from his grasp. He could remember the charity ball just before his accident—Belenki had flown in from Europe and had been the guest speaker, that much he remembered. And he remembered the fear he had felt at the time too. Iosef had had harsh words with him—for his poor behaviour at the ball, for talking through the speeches, which, yes, he had. Zakahr Belenki had been talking about his life in Detsky Dom, how he had chosen to live instead on the streets, about what he had done to survive there.
It had been easier to have another drink that night than to hear Zakahr’s message. Levander had never really spoken of his years there, and part of Aleksi didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear how his half-brother had suffered so.
‘Has Belenki been back to Australia?’
‘No,’ Kate said. ‘But he has been talking daily with Nina. They are coming up with new ideas all the time.’
Why, Aleksi begged himself, did that name strike fear inside him?
He tried to pull up the man’s image—yet, like so much else in his mind, it was a blur…as if it had been pixilated…like the many other shadowy areas in his mind that he must allow no one else to know about.
‘Nina will run the House of Kolovsky into the ground—she cannot run it,’ he declared.
‘Who else is there?’
‘Me,’ Aleksi ground out. ‘I will be back at my desk on Monday.’
‘Aleksi!’ Kate’s voice was exasperated. ‘I didn’t ring for that; I just rang because you made me promise to keep you informed. It’s way too soon for you to return. Look…’
She lowered her voice and he could just picture her leaning forward, picture her finger toying with a curl of her hair as she tried to come up with a solution, and despite the direness of the situation the image made him smile. The sound of her voice soothed him, and it moved him too, in the way it sometimes did—never more so than now.
‘I can ring you every day…’
He stared down at the sudden, unexpected passionate reaction of his body and did not answer.
‘Can you hear me, Aleksi?’
‘Go on.’
‘I can ring you all the time…tell you things…and then you can tell me what to do.’
He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted her to tell him things. Hell, how he wanted at this moment to tell her exactly what to do. He didn’t want to think about the House of Kolovsky and his family, didn’t want to face what he was trying to forget. How much nicer would it be to just lie here and let her tell him things that he wanted to hear?
‘Kate…’ His voice was ragged. He wanted her on a plane this minute—he wanted her here, wanted her now—but instead he forced himself to sit upright, to ignore the fire in his groin and concentrate on what was necessary. ‘I’ll be back on Monday. Don’t tell anyone, don’t act any different. Just go along with whatever Nina says.’
It wasn’t her place to argue, and she didn’t.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to organize—?’
‘I’ll sort everything out from this end,’ Aleksi interrupted. ‘Kate…?’
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing.’ He clicked off the phone and tried to keep his mind on necessary business. Turned on his laptop and raced through figures. He knew only too well that the House of Kolovsky was on a collision course and that he was the only one who could stop it.
He just couldn’t quite remember why.
And for the first time in ages he didn’t try to. The figures he was analysing blurred in front of his eyes, so instead he clicked on company photographs—a who’s who of the House of Kolovsky.
Ivan, his deceased father; Nina, his mother; Levander, his half-brother, whom his parents had conveniently forgotten about and left in an orphanage in Russia when they fled to Australia; Iosef, his twin, and his sister Annika. Then Aleksi clicked on his own image, saw his scowling, haughty face before hurriedly moving on. Finally, for the first time in weeks he allowed himself the respite of her face.
Kate Taylor.
Smiling, her face round and shiny, dark hair curling under the heat of the photographer’s lights, nervous at having her photo taken—though it was just a head-and-shoulders corporate shot.
He must be losing his mind.
Imagine that bulk on his healing thigh, he told himself, trying to calm his excited body. He tried in vain to reel in his imagination—except he just grew harder at the thought of Kate on top of him…
He had the most beautiful women on tap—warm, eager flesh on the other side of his bedroom door—yet all he could think of was that in a week he would again see Kate.
‘Aleksi?’ The nurse knocked, her voice low, the door opening just a fraction. ‘Is there anything at all you need?’
‘Not to be disturbed,’ he growled, and as the door reluctantly closed he turned off the computer and lay in the darkness, willing sleep to invade. Then he gave in.
Once, he decided.
Just this once he would allow himself to go there—to think about Kate and imagine himself with her. Or rather, Aleksi corrected as his hand slid around his heated length, just one last time.
Just one time more.

Chapter Two
‘YOU look pretty!’ Georgie said as Kate sliced off the top of her boiled egg.
‘Thank you,’ Kate replied with a half-smile. After all, Georgie was her number one fan, and it was a compliment that was regularly given.
‘Really pretty.’ Georgie frowned. ‘You’re wearing lots of lipstick.’
‘Am I?’ Kate said vaguely.
‘Is that new?’ Her knowing little eyes roamed over Kate’s new suit.
‘I’ve had it for ages.’ Kate shrugged, adding two sweeteners to her cup of tea and wishing, wishing, wishing she’d kept to her diet. She’d consoled herself that it would be another two months at least before he came back, and now, thanks to the lousy Nina, Aleksi would be back in the office today!
‘Is Aleksi coming back today?’ Her daughter’s shrewd eyes narrowed.
‘I’m not sure…’ Kate was at a loss as to what to say, stunned at the mini-witch she had created. She half expected her to wrinkle up her nose and cast a spell—but then Georgie liked Aleksi.
No, Georgie adored Aleksi.
Kate had thought that day at the hospital would be the last time she would see him—had almost managed to put him to the far recesses of her mind, where he would have stayed had the occasional card not arrived from him.
The occasional hotel postcard, from far-flung places around the globe, in less than legible writing.
The odd, completely child-unfriendly toys for Georgie—like a set of Russian dolls when she was eighteen months old, and a jewellery box with a little ballerina. Oh, they’d been few and far between over the years, but, given Aleksi’s communication was only slightly more erratic than Georgie’s father’s, they had lit up the little girl’s day when occasionally they came.
Kate had struggled through part-time jobs, watching the unfolding saga of the Kolovskys in all the magazines, and when Ivan had died and Levander had renounced the Kolovsky throne the news that Aleksi was moving back to Australia had had Kate on tenterhooks—until finally, finally, long after his return, he had called and offered her a job she couldn’t refuse.
And such was the nature of the job she had been unable to refuse, despite thorough prior negotiation that she could only work school hours, sometimes Georgie could be found in the early hours of a Sunday morning sitting by Kate’s desk at work, with a takeaway breakfast in her lap, as Kate gritted her teeth and worked on the latest crisis that had erupted.
‘I like Aleksi!’
‘Well, you would,’ Kate said drily. ‘He’s always nice to you.’ Even when he was at his meanest, even when Kate had somehow managed to erase six months of figures and had tearfully been trying to retrieve them as he hovered like a black cloud over her shoulder one very early morning, still he’d managed a smile and an eye-roll for Georgie.
‘Mummy will find them, Georgie,’ he had assured the little girl.
‘Mummy damn well can’t,’ Kate had growled.
‘Yes, Kate,’ Aleksi had said, ‘you can. And,’ he had added, winking to his latest fan, ‘don’t swear in front of your daughter.’
‘Does Aleksi have a girlfriend?’ Georgie probed, and Kate hesitated.
Aleksi cast new meaning on the term ‘playing the field’, and Georgie was way too young for that. Still, she didn’t want her daughter getting too many ideas on her mother’s behalf.
‘Aleksi’s very popular with the ladies,’ Kate settled for, and then tried to hurry things along. ‘Come on, eat up—you’ve got school.’
‘I don’t want to go.’
‘You’ll enjoy it when you’re there,’ Kate said assuredly. But, seeing Georgie’s eyes fill up with tears, she had trouble wearing that brave smile.
‘They don’t like me, Mum.’
‘Do you want me to have another word with Miss Nugent?’
Kate had had many words with the teacher. Georgie was gifted—incredibly clever. She could read, she could write, but she was also funny and naughty and almost five years old. And Miss Nugent had more pressing problems than a child who could read and write.
‘Then they’ll be more mean to me.’ Her voice wobbled and tore straight through Kate’s heart. ‘Why don’t they like me?’
There was no simple answer. Georgie had had a miserable year at kindergarten and now school was proving no better. Though her daughter ached to join in with the other children at playtime, the other little girls didn’t include her, because in the classroom she didn’t fit in. She could read and write already; she could tell the time. Bored, she annoyed the other students, and the teachers too with her incessant questions, and there had been a few incidents recently where Georgie—Kate’s sweet, happy little Georgie—had been labeled as ‘difficult’.
Shamefully, it was almost a relief to Kate that Georgie didn’t want her to speak to Miss Nugent!
Bruce the dog got most of Georgie’s egg and toast, and as they drove to school it took all Kate’s effort to keep wearing that smile as she walked a reluctant Georgie across the playground and into her classroom.
‘Come on now, Georgie!’ Miss Nugent said firmly as Georgie lingered by the pegs—though at least today she didn’t cry. ‘Say goodbye—Mum has to go to work.’
‘Bye, Mum,’ Georgie duly said, and it almost broke Kate’s heart.
All the little girls were in groups, chatting and laughing, whereas Georgie sat alone, looking through her reader, her pencil case in front of her. How Kate wished Georgie could just join in and play. How Kate wished her daughter could, for once, fit in.
As she drove to work, not for the first time she reconsidered Aleksi’s offer—if she worked full-time for him, he had told her, then he would pay for Georgie’s education. Kate had already found the most wonderful school—a school with a gifted children’s programme—one that understood the problems along with the rewards of having a child that was exceptionally bright. But, more importantly, Kate had known the moment she had stepped into the class during the tour that Georgie would instantly fit in.
There, Georgie would be just a regular child.
Hitting a solid wall of traffic on the freeway, she shook her head and turned on the radio. Georgie needed a mum more than Aleksi needed a full-time, permanently on call PA, and Aleksi’s moods changed like the wind—Kate couldn’t let Georgie glimpse a future that might so easily be taken away if Aleksi Kolovsky suddenly changed his mind about paying for her education.
Kate wouldn’t be so beholden to him.

‘It’s good to see you, sir.’
Normally Aleksi would have at least nodded a greeting to the doorman, but not this morning. As his driver had opened the car door he had remembered the steps that led up to the golden revolving doors of the impressive city building that was the hub of the House of Kolovsky.
He had not yet mastered steps—but he would this morning.
It had taken an hour to knot his tie—that once effortless, simple task had been an exercise in frustration this Monday morning—but no one would have guessed from looking at him. Immaculate, he walked from the car to the entrance, negotiating the steps as if it had not been four months of hell since he’d last done it. But the ease of his movements belied the supreme effort and concentration Aleksi was inwardly exerting.
‘Aleksi?’ Kate heard the whisper race through the building. ‘What do you mean he’s here?’
She could sense the panic, the urgency, but she pretended not to notice. Instead she sat at her desk, coolly typing away, glad—so glad—for the extra layer of foundation she had put on this morning, and wondering if it would stand up to Nina’s scrutiny.
Aleksi’s area was always a flurry of activity. He had his own vast office, but around that was an open-plan area which he often frequented—Kate worked there, as did Lavinia, the assistant PA. Kate could feel several sets of eyes on her as Aleksi’s mother approached.
‘Did you know about this?’ Nina demanded as she stopped beside Kate’s desk.
‘Know what?’ Kate frowned.
‘Aleksi is on his way up!’ Nina hissed, her eyes narrowing. ‘If I find out you had anything to do with this, you can kiss your perky little job goodbye,’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Kate swallowed and tried to feign genuine shock at the news. ‘Aleksi isn’t supposed to back for months yet.’
Just his presence in the building set off a panic.
There was a stampede for the restrooms as everyone dashed to fix their face. Accountants, who had been resting on their laurels, seemingly safe in the knowledge that the astute Aleksi’s return was ages away, suddenly flooded Kate’s e-mail inbox and phone voicemail with demands for reports, figures, meetings.
Though outwardly unruffled, inside Kate was a bundle of nerves, her heart hammering beneath her new jacket and blouse, her lips dry beneath the glossy new lipstick, her hands shaking slightly as she tapped out a response to one of the senior buyers. Even as her head told her to stay calm, her body struggled with the knowledge that, after the longest time, in just a few seconds, finally she would see him again.
She sensed him, smelt him, tasted him almost, before she faced him.
His formidable, unmistakable presence filled the entire room and her eyes jerked up as he approached—and she remembered.
Remembered the shock value of his presence—how the energy shifted whenever he was close.
It wasn’t precisely that she had forgotten. She’d merely refused to let herself remember.
‘What are you doing here, Aleksi?’ Kate didn’t have to feign the surprise in her voice; the sight of him ensured that it came naturally. A couple of months ago there had been a single photo of him captured by a paparazzo that had been sold for nearly half a million dollars. It had showed a chiselled and pale Aleksi recuperating in the West Indies, his wasted leg supported on pillows, and that was the Aleksi Kate had been expecting—a paler version of his old self.
Instead he stood, toned, taut and tanned and radiating health, his rare beauty amplified.
‘It’s good to have you back, Aleksi,’ Lavinia purred. ‘You’ve been missed.’
He just nodded and headed to his office, calling over his shoulder for a coffee. Then, as Lavinia jumped up, he specified his order. ‘Kate.’
‘Poor you!’ Lavinia’s cooing baby voice faded as Kate made his brew. ‘If Nina finds out you had anything to do with him coming back she’ll make your life hell.’
‘I didn’t,’ Kate said. ‘Anyway, Aleksi’s head of Kolovsky, not Nina.’
‘This week.’ Lavinia smirked. ‘Don’t you realise times are changing? Aleksi’s days are numbered.’
Which was the reason Kate had summoned him back.
When the youngest male Kolovsky, the head of the empire, had spectacularly crashed his car and come close to losing his life, the population of Australia had held its breath as Aleksi had lain unconscious—although rumors of brain damage and amputation had been quickly squashed. Still, the spin doctors had had other things to deal with at the same time. The news that Levander Kolovsky had been raised in an orphanage in Russia while his father had lived in luxury with his wife had slipped out.
The House of Kolovsky had faced its most telling time, and yet somehow it had risen above it—Nina, a tragic figure leaving the hospital after seeing Aleksi, had somehow procured sympathy. Her almost obscene fortune and the rash of scandals had been countered by her recent philanthropic work in Russia. Her daughter’s wedding, followed by the news that Levander was about to adopt a Russian orphan, and now her involvement with the European magnate Zakahr Belenki, who ran outreach programmes on the streets of Russia, all boded well for Nina. Suddenly the tide of bad opinion had turned, and Kolovsky could do no wrong.
‘Tell the press that the House of Kolovsky is riding high.’ Nina had said at a recent decisive board meeting. ‘At the moment we can do no wrong.’
‘And Aleksi?’ the press officer had asked. ‘We should give an indication as to his health—assure the shareholders his return is imminent.’
But instead of moving to communicate Aleksi’s chances of full recuperation, Nina had chosen the ‘no comment’ route. Sitting in on the meeting, Kate had been stunned to hear his own mother’s words.
‘Without Aleksi at the helm,’ Nina had clarified, ‘Kolovsky can do no wrong.’
Two hours later, Kate had made the call to her boss.
‘It’s Nina you want to keep sweet! Not Aleksi!’ Lavinia broke into Kate’s thoughts, and suddenly she’d had enough.
‘Actually, it’s you I feel sorry for, Lavinia,’ Kate shot back. ‘We all know what you have to do to keep in with the boss—I can’t imagine the taste of Nina after Aleksi!’
‘You’re shaking,’ Aleksi noted as the coffee cup rattled to a halt on his desk.
‘Don’t give yourself the credit!’ Kate blew her fringe skywards. More than anything she hated confrontation, yet it was all around, and she simply couldn’t avoid it any longer. ‘I just had words with Lavinia.’
‘Not long ones, I hope,’ Aleksi said. ‘They’d be wasted on her.’
‘Oh, they were pretty basic.’
For once, there was no witty retort from Aleksi. The walk had depleted him. His leg was throbbing, the muscles in spasm, but he did not let on. Instead he took a sip of his brew and finally—after weeks of hospital slop and maids in the West Indies attempting to get it right—finally it was. He liked his coffee strong and sweet, and was tired of explaining that that didn’t mean adding just a little milk. Aleksi liked a lot of everything. He took another sip and leant back in his chair, returning her smile when she spoke next.
‘The place is in panic!’ Kate gave a little giggle. ‘I had a frantic call from Reception to alert me you were on your way up, and then the place just exploded! I even saw Nina running for the first time.’
‘Running to delete all the files she is so busy corrupting,’ he said cynically.
‘She wants Kolovsky to do well.’ Kate frowned.
‘Money is her only god.’ Aleksi shrugged. ‘Three more months and there would have been no more House of Kolovsky ,’ he sneered. ‘Or not one to be proud of.’
‘Things aren’t that bad,’ Kate answered dutifully, but she struggled to voice the necessary enthusiasm. On paper everything was fine—fantastic, in fact—but since Levander had returned to the UK and Nina had taken over things were fast unravelling. ‘I should never have called you.’
‘I’m glad that you did. I’ve been on the phone with Marketing—“Every woman deserves a little piece of Kolovsky!”’ Aleksi scorned. ‘That is my mother’s latest suggestion. Apart from tampering with the bridal gowns and Krasavitsa, she is considering a line of bedlinen for a supermarket chain.’
‘An exclusive chain,’ Kate attempted, but Aleksi just cursed in Russian.
‘Chush’ sobach’ya!’ He glanced down at the coffee and found she was setting out an array of pills beside it. ‘I don’t need them.’
‘I’ve looked at your regime,’ Kate said. ‘You are to take them four-hourly.’
‘That was my regime when lying on a beach—here, I need to think.’
‘You can’t just stop taking them,’ Kate insisted. She had known this was coming. Even in hospital he had resisted every pill, had stretched the time out between them to the max, refusing sedation at night. Always he was rigid, alert—even when sleeping.
So many hours she had spent by his bed during his recovery—taking notes, keeping him abreast of what was going on, assuring him she would keep him informed but that surely he should rest. She had watched as sleep continually evaded him. Sometimes, regretfully almost, he had dozed, only to be woken by a light flicking on down the hall, or a siren in the distance.
She had hoped his time away in the Caribbean would mellow him—soften him a little, perhaps. Had hoped that the rest would do him good. Instead he was leaner and if anything meaner, more hungry for action, and, no matter how he denied it, he was savage with pain.
‘Get my mother in here.’
‘I’m here.’ Nina came in. She was well into her fifties, but she looked not a day over forty—as if, as Aleksi had once said to Kate, she had stepped straight out of a wind tunnel. She had lost a lot of weight since Ivan’s death, and was now officially tiny—though her size belied her sudden rise in stature at House of Kolovsky. Dressed in an azure silk suit, her skinny legs encased in sheer black stockings and her feet dressed up in heels, with diamonds dripping from her ears and fingers, her new-found power suited her. She swept into the room, ignoring Kate as she always did. Lavinia came in behind her.
‘It is good to see you back, Aleksi,’ Nina said without sentiment, and Kate could only wonder.
This was her son—her son who had been so very ill, who had clawed his way back from the most terrible accident—and this was how she greeted him.
‘Really?’ Aleksi raised an eyebrow. ‘You don’t sound very convincing.’
‘I’m concerned,’ Nina responded. ‘As any mother would be. I think that it’s way too soon.’
‘It’s almost too late,’ Aleksi snapped back. ‘I’ve seen your proposals.’
‘I specifically said you were not to be worried with details!’ She glared over to Kate, who stood there blushing. ‘Leave us!’ she ordered. ‘I will deal with you later. I assume this is your doing.’
‘It was your doing,’ Aleksi corrected. ‘Your grab for cash that terminated my recuperation. You may leave,’ he told Kate, and she did.
It was a relief to get out of there, to be honest.
And oh, so humiliating too. Before the door closed she heard Nina’s bitchy tones. ‘Tell your PA she is supposed to remove the coat hanger before she puts on her skirt.’ Kate heard Lavinia’s mirthless laugh in response to Nina’s cruel comment and fled to the loos, but there was no solace there.
Mirrors lined the walls and she saw herself from every angle.
Even her well-cut grey suit couldn’t hide the curves—curves that wouldn’t matter a jot anywhere else, but at the House of Kolovsky broke every rule. She turned heads wherever she went, and not in a good way. And by the end of the day, no matter how she tamed it, or smothered it in serum or glossed it and straightened it, her hair was a spiral mass of frizzy curls. Her make-up, no matter how she followed advice, no matter how carefully she applied it, had slid off her face by lunchtime, and her figure—well, it simply didn’t work in the fashion industry.
Kate pretended to be washing her hands as an effortless beauty came in and didn’t even pretend she was here for the loo. She just touched up her make-up, hoiked her non-existent breasts a little higher in her bra and played with her hair for a moment before leaving.
She didn’t acknowledge Kate—didn’t glance in her direction.
Kate was nothing—no challenge, no competition. Nothing.
If only she knew, Kate thought, watching in the mirror as the trim little bottom wiggled out on legs that should surely snap.
If only they knew her secret.
That sometimes…Kate stared in the mirror at the glitter in her eyes, a small smile on her lips as she recalled the memories she and Aleksi occasionally made. Sometimes, when Georgie was at her grandparents’, Aleksi would come to her, would leave the glitz and the glamour and arrive on her doorstep in the still of the night.
They never discussed it. He was always gone by the morning. And it wasn’t as if they slept together. In fact in their entire history they’d shared just two kisses—one when Georgie was born; one the night before the accident.
And, yes, a kiss from a Kolovsky meant very little. It was currency to them, easily earned, carelessly spent, but for Kate it was her most treasured memory.
Oh, if only they knew that sometimes, late in the night, Aleksi Kolovsky came to her door, wanting her company.
‘You’re to go in.’ Lavinia sat scowling when Kate returned, clearly annoyed at having been asked to leave the meeting.
Stepping into the room, had she not known, Kate would never have guessed the two people in there were mother and son. The air sizzled with hatred, and the tension was palpable. Aleksi was on the telephone, speaking in Arabic—just one of his impressive skills—but when he replaced the receiver he wasted no time getting straight to the point.
‘Nina has agreed to delay a formal proposal to the board for a fortnight, but she will then propose her takeover of the company, with the board to vote in two months.’
Kate couldn’t look at him as he spoke, so her eyes flicked to Nina instead—not a muscle flickered in her Botoxed face.
‘My mother says the board is concerned by my behaviour, and that she is worried about my health and the pressure.’ He dragged out each syllable, his lips curling in distaste, but still Nina sat impassive. ‘I want Kolovsky and Krasavitsa to be treated as two separate entities in the vote. In return, Nina wants the full trajectory reports for Krasavitsa, along with past figures…’
Krasavitsa meant beautiful woman, and was a clothing and accessories range aimed at the younger market. The garments and jewels were still extravagant and expensive, still eagerly sought, but not, as was Kolovsky, exclusive.
The idea and its inception had been Aleksi’s. In fact it had been his first major project when he had taken over the helm. The launch had gone well. Krasavitsa was the toast of Paris—and every young, beautiful, rich girl, according to their figures, surely by now had at least one piece in their wardrobe, or in their underwear drawer.
And when that beautiful young woman matured into full womanhood, as Aleksi had said at numerous board meetings, she would crave Kolovsky.
It had been Aleksi’s pet, and he had nurtured it from the very start—but, it would seem, not satisfied just with Kolovsky, Nina wanted Krasavitsa too.
‘Nina has all the figures,’ Kate said, and then swallowed as Nina snorted.
‘The real figures,’ Nina said. ‘Not the doctored version. I want the real figures.’
‘It might take a while.’ Aleksi’s voice was tart. ‘There are other things I need to sort out before I go through figures. The call I just took was from Sheikh Amallah’s private secretary…’
Kate watched as only then did Nina show a hint of nervousness, her tongue bobbing out to moisten her lower lip.
‘It would take thousands of the cheap, rubbish wedding dresses you have in mind to match the price of his daughter’s Kolovsky gown.’ Even though he wasn’t shouting, it was clear Aleksi was livid. ‘Yet you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her at the airport!’
‘I had Lavinia go!’ Nina said defensively.
‘Lavinia!’ Aleksi gave a black laugh, then whistled through his teeth. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? You really don’t understand.’ He looked over to Kate. ‘Arrange dinner, and then tell them Nina is looking forward to it.’
‘I’m not going to dinner tonight!’ Nina spoke as if he’d gone completely mad. ‘You go,’ she said. ‘You speak their language.’
‘I hardly think the Sheikh will want his virgin daughter going out for dinner with me!’ Now he shouted. Now he really shouted! ‘For now, I’m in charge, and don’t forget it. For now, at least, we do things my way.’
‘Well, I want those figures by next Monday.’ Nina glowered at Aleksi. ‘Only then will I make my decision.’
‘You can fight me on Kolovsky,’ Aleksi said. ‘But I will never concede Krasavitsa. That was my idea.’
‘Krasavitsa would be nothing without my husband’s name…’
And that, Kate realised as she watched a muscle leap in Aleksi’s cheek, was what appeared to hurt the most. A blistering row with his mother didn’t dent him, but the insinuation that without Kolovsky he was nothing was the thing that truly galled him.
‘You have no idea what you are doing.’ Aleksi stared at his mother. ‘Follow your plans and the Kolovsky name will be worth nothing in a few years.’
‘These are tough times Aleksi,’ Nina stood to leave. ‘We have to do what it takes to survive.’
He just sat there when she had left.
‘Is Kolovsky in trouble?’ Kate couldn’t help but ask.
‘It will be.’ Aleksi shook his head in wonder. ‘We are doing well—but she strikes fear where there is none.’ He rested his elbows on his desk and pressed his fingers to his temples. ‘Belenki has suggested these off-the-peg bridal gowns and the bedding range. It is supposed to be a one-off—just for a year—with ten percent of the profits going to both our charities: his outreach work in Russia and the orphanages my mother sponsors.’ He looked up to her. ‘What do you think, Kate?’
He’d never asked her opinion on work before, but before she could reply he did so for her.
‘It sounds like a good idea,’ he said, and reluctantly she nodded. ‘But I know it will be the beginning of the end for Kolovsky. Belenki surely also knows that; exclusivity is why Kolovsky has survived this long. I don’t like him…’ He halted, then frowned when Kate agreed.
‘You said you didn’t trust him.’
Aleksi’s eyes shot to hers. ‘When?’
‘The night before the accident…’ Her face was on fire. ‘When you came to my home.’ But clearly he was uncomfortable with the memory, because he snapped back into business mode.
‘Get the figures ready for me,’ Aleksi said. ‘The real figures. But don’t give them to Nina until I’ve gone through them.’
‘She’ll know if you change them.’
‘She couldn’t read STUPID if it was written in ten-foot letters on the wall,’ Aleksi said. ‘Just get them ready for me.’ As she turned to go, he called her back. ‘You’re in or you’re out.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Kate turned around.
‘You’re on my side, or you pack your bags and go now.’
She frowned at him. ‘You know I’m on your side.’
‘Good.’ Aleksi said, but he didn’t let it drop there. ‘If you choose to stay, and I get even a hint that you’re looking for work elsewhere, not only will I fire you on the spot, don’t even think to put me down as a reference—you won’t like what I say.’
‘Don’t threaten me, Aleksi. I do have rights!’ Her blush wasn’t just an angry one, it was embarrassment too, because, given the conversation they’d just had, she’d already decided her night would be spent online, firing off her résumé. But he had no idea what she was going through right now—no idea just how dire her finances were at this moment.
‘Exercise your rights.’ Aleksi shrugged. ‘Just know I don’t play nice.’
‘I don’t get your skewed logic, Aleksi.’ Kate was more than angry now. ‘All you had to do was ask that I stay, but instead you go straight for the jugular each time!’
‘I find it more effective.’ He looked over to where she stood. ‘So you weren’t considering leaving?’
‘Not really.’ Kate swallowed. ‘But if Nina does win…’ She closed her eyes. ‘Not that she will—but if she does…’ Hell, maybe she wouldn’t get an award for dogged devotion to her boss, but it came down to one simple fact. ‘I’ve got a daughter to support.’
‘Then back a winner.’ Aleksi said. ‘Are you in or out?’
God, he gave her no room, no space to think. But that was Aleksi—he hurled his orders and demanded rapid response.
‘I’m in.’
‘Good,’ Aleksi responded. ‘But if I find out—’
‘Aleksi,’ Kate broke in, ‘I’ve said that I’m in, that I’m not going to look for anything else. You’re just going to have to trust me.’
His black smile didn’t even turn the edges of his mouth. ‘Why would I?’
She just loathed him at times.
Back at her desk, she loathed him so much she was tempted to have a little surf and find a job—just to prove him right!
Just to prove her word wasn’t enough.
Just to convince him that his eternally suspicious mind was again merited.
And then he walked past, his leg dragging just slightly, and she watched as Lavinia gave him an intimate smile and tried to engage him in conversation that would be fed back to Nina.
His own mother was trying to destroy him.
Why would he trust anyone?
Why would he even contemplate trusting her?
All Kate knew was that he could.

Chapter Three
RIMINIC IVAN KOLOVSKY.
Aleksi put the name into an internet search engine and got nothing.
He didn’t really know where to start, and then he glanced over to his mother, who was going through the messages on her phone, and toyed with flicking the name on an e-mail to her, just to watch her reaction—except Lavinia was buzzing like an annoying fly around him, asking for a password so she could get some figures that were needed for tonight.
‘Kate will sort it out,’ Aleksi uttered, without looking over from the computer, saying the same words he spoke perhaps a hundred times a day.
It was Friday afternoon, but there was no end-of-week buoyancy filling the building. Aleksi had been back for a week now, and had made it exceptionally clear that, whatever Nina or the board might think, for now he was certainly in charge.
There had been several sackings—anyone who had dared question him had been none too politely shown the door—and everyone was walking on eggshells around him.
Everyone, that was, but Kate. She had long since learnt that Aleksi smelt fear like a shark smelt blood, and she refused to bend to his will.
Refused to be beholden to him.
It was the only way she knew how to survive.
‘I really need to get things prepared for your conference call with Belenki,’ Lavinia insisted. ‘The meeting won’t be till six p.m. our time, and Kate leaves at five…’

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