of her mouth, soothing the trembling seam as he held her close.
Roman, Natalya determined fiercely, was about to be called to account. She’d call and invite him to share lunch with her, then calmly...surely she could do calm several hours from now?
‘He’s going to pay.’
‘Natalya,’ Alexei cautioned, and she shook her head.
‘You don’t understand.’
But he did. All too well. The silent rage that had almost destroyed him, the desire to succeed beyond measure.
Not the least of it, to throw that success in Roman’s face. As he had with deliberate intent, using his business nous to prove he could. Then plotted his revenge against the man who’d wielded God-like power...using Natalya as a weapon.
Ill-founded, as he discovered...and beat down the rage simmering beneath the surface.
How could a father do that to his own daughter?
As easily as Roman succeeded in deceiving his own wife. A self-absorbed narcissist who put his own needs first and foremost...without exception.
Alexei wanted to slam a fist against something...for a few brief seconds he almost did. Just for the hell of it.
Almost as if she knew, she lifted a hand to his cheek.
‘Natalya...’
Her eyes seared his own, steady, obdurate. ‘There’s nothing you can say to stop me confronting my father.’
He waited a beat, then offered quietly, ‘Think it through,’ he advised gently, and watched her eyes narrow.
‘He doesn’t deserve consideration.’
THERE WAS A need for planned strategy. An assemblage of irrefutable facts. Cool, sans anger. Absence of a public scene.
In Roman’s true sense of style, he’d vetoed a small restaurant in favour of one of his favoured upmarket haunts noted for its fine cuisine.
Natalya entered the boutique restaurant several minutes past the appointed time, for, in truth, she wanted her father to be seated and waiting.
It helped that he was there, charming the wait staff in his typical style. The smile, a flirting tease in his eyes...just enough not to offend, but holding a silent invitation, should it be accepted.
Natalya touched a hand to Roman’s shoulder to catch his attention, and he turned at once, offering a warm greeting as he caught her hand and lifted it to his lips.
‘Darling girl.’ Ever the showman, he gave the waitress a knowing smile. ‘Better late than never.’
Did he ever stop? And to think she’d always put his teasing down to his consummate charm.
‘Have the sommelier choose the finest champagne and have it brought to the table,’ he instructed the waitress in a grandiose manner, ‘A celebration.’
He might think otherwise by the time their meal concluded.
‘Problem with traffic?’ Roman enquired as Natalya slid into the chair opposite.
‘Parking,’ Natalya enlightened, and when the champagne was presented, checked, approved and opened she instructed, ‘Just a small amount. I have to work this afternoon.’
She waited, sipped superb champagne and exchanged small-talk as she selected an entree, refused a main, and settled for a lemon sorbet to follow.
The waitress served coffee, and Natalya added milk, sat back and mentally directed...now.
She kept it brief, citing irrefutable fact with admirable restraint...and took some satisfaction as her father stiffened, blustered a little, then paled as she relayed knowledge of each pertinent detail...the coincidence of her lost smartphone and its replacement with a different provider and new number.
Coinciding with Alexei’s disappearance from her life.
‘Don’t,’ she cautioned as he attempted to speak, ‘attempt to justify your actions. Your manipulative meddling was unforgivable.’
‘I wanted the best for you.’
She battled with anger, and fought to contain it.
‘Without thought for my right to choose?’
‘Delandros had nothing. He could never have supported you in the style you deserved.’
Leave now, a silent voice urged...before you say something regrettable.
Natalya rose to her feet, caught up her bag and walked to the cashier’s desk, produced a credit card, paid the bill, then she emerged onto the sidewalk, covered the three blocks to where she’d parked her car.
Alexei was at the industrial plant, the rest of the afternoon was hers, and there was a need to occupy her mind and minimise any inclination to dwell on her father’s actions.
She aimed the car remote, then slid in behind the wheel, had a flash of inspiration and delved into her bag for her smartphone. Minutes later she engaged the engine, eased out of the parking bay and headed towards fashionable Double Bay.
A relaxing facial, some one-on-one time with Anja...what could be better?
‘Thanks for fitting me in,’ Natalya greeted with affection as she took her place in one of the beauty rooms.
Bliss, absolute bliss to simply close her eyes and let every muscle in her body slowly relax as Anja worked her magic.
‘Are you going to update me? Over the past few days a number of regular clients have quizzed me if the rumours are true about you and Alexei.’
‘Which you refrained from providing.’ It was a statement of fact.
‘You know better.’
Yes, she did. They’d shared much over the years, and maintained a mutual trust.
Yet she hesitated...the sex with Alexei was great. Okay, fantastic. The question being what their future might hold. Or if they had a future.
There were words left unsaid, and while she ached for the whole package...did Alexei want the same? Or would it be her fate to remain his PA with benefits?
‘Hello?’ Anja prompted. ‘Natalya to Planet Earth?’
‘There are issues,’ Natalya admitted, and glimpsed Anja’s faintly wry smile.
‘Resolve them. Anything less is a cop-out.’
‘What would you suggest?’ Natalya queried, sotto voce. ‘Grab Alexei by the scruff of his neck, pin him to the floor, and demand his intentions?’
‘That would be my modus operandi.’
Natalya bit back a light laugh. ‘I’ll remind you of that when the love bug strikes.’
‘Not going to happen anytime soon.’
‘Famous last words.’
‘Keep your eyes closed,’ Anja ordered. ‘I’m not done yet.’ Firm hands created their own magic, and Natalya uttered a pleasurable sigh. ‘Something you’re not telling me?’
‘Nothing to tell.’
Not yet, Natalya perceived. She could wait, and would, aware there was a time and a place, and now wasn’t it.
* * *
Natalya’s phone chirped with an incoming text as she entered her home.
Dinner tonight. I’ll collect you at six. Alexei.
She checked her watch, saw there was ample time in which to change, and then took a leisurely shower, towelled dry, stepped into her bedroom, and riffled