Carol Marinelli - The Only Woman to Defy Him

‘Problem?’ Demyan asked.

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

‘Because you didn’t write it down.’

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

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

She was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demyan.

He had his own fragrance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was just that her body said otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It never came.

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

He liked it that she defied him.

So few did.

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

That should be it.

With anyone else, that would have been it.

His word, her command.

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

‘Excuse me?’

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

‘Did I?’

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

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

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

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

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

Though, of course, they turned for Demyan.

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

In the back.

With him.

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