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His shoulders...had they been so broad? His hair, so silky she’d exulted in ruffling it into disorder. Matching the dark promise in his eyes, a soft throaty chuckle an instant before he claimed her mouth, her heart...her soul.
Then.
Not now...and it rankled more than she would ever admit to how much the admission had the power to hurt.
She was over him. Way over.
Alexei Delandros belonged in a previous chapter of her life. One she had absolutely no intention of revisiting. Only a degree of stubborn pride ensured she remained facing him...when every cell in her body urged she should simply turn and leave. So why didn’t she?
Because it was the easy way out. And she didn’t do easy.
Like she’d even consider working for the man who had ruthlessly set out to destroy her father’s business empire?
Natalya lifted her chin and threw him a fulminating glare. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you can take your employment contract and shove it.’
She was either a very good actress, Alexei conceded, or she genuinely had no inkling of the verbal bombshell he was about to deliver.
‘You might consider leaving your options open.’
Her eyes never left his own. Dignity and sarcasm didn’t mesh, but she really didn’t care. ‘Please don’t hesitate to enlighten me as to why?’
Family values had been her strong point. One he’d admired...until he’d dug deep into her father’s business and private affairs and uncovered a number of discrepancies revealing the antithesis of the man Roman Montgomery managed to portray.
Had Natalya been aware of her father’s transgressions? Possibly not, given Roman’s penchant for subterfuge.
There was no point in sugar-coating the facts, nor did he feel inclined to soften his words.
‘My accounting team have uncovered an elaborate scheme involving several bogus offshore accounts created by your father for the illegal transfer of Montgomery company funds.’
Alexei watched her eyes sharpen with disbelief. ‘There’s no way my father would commit fraud.’
It was a gut reaction and, on the surface, genuine, he perceived. Although she’d managed to fool him in the past.
‘You’re so sure of that?’
‘I’d stake my life on it,’ Natalya voiced emphatically, ignoring the folder Alexei extended towards her.
‘I suggest you examine the paperwork.’
‘And if I choose not to?’
He studied her features as she ran a pale lacquered nail over the folder’s seam, noted the soft pink colouring of her cheeks, the defensive spark in the depths of her eyes, and for a brief moment he almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
‘The report details dates, account numbers, the series of complicated layers deliberately created to prevent detection.’
Natalya cast him a withering look, only to witness it had no effect whatsoever, and she tossed the report, unread, onto his desk.
‘You can’t be serious.’
The silence became an almost palpable entity as she refused to shift her gaze. Difficult, when a host of conflicting thoughts swirled through her mind.
If...and in her opinion it was a vastly improbable if...the report held a grain of accuracy, the question had to be what Alexei intended to do with it.
At best the details would reveal any fraud had occurred without her father’s knowledge.
At worst...she wasn’t prepared to give that thought any credibility.
‘Read the report.’
Only a fool would fail to recognise the steely intent beneath his silky drawl, and she shot him a baleful glare as she picked up the proffered folder and flipped aside the covering page.
The first thing she noted was the name of the firm who’d compiled the data...and recognised it as one of the foremost sources well known worldwide for its excellent reputation.
Why did she have the instinctive feeling the goal posts had suddenly undergone a subtle shift, when it was she who’d determined to maintain control during this brief...very brief encounter?
A small ball of tension manifested itself in the region of her mid-section, and she took a calming breath before she began skimming the range of figures, dates, only to slow down as growing alarm escalated with each turn of the page. Detailed entries tracking each amount as it passed through an elaborate tracery of accounts.
A trail initiated by direct instructions from Roman Montgomery.
Amounting to millions of dollars.
Natalya felt as if she needed to sit down, and she froze for a few heart-stopping seconds as reality hit home.
If the report was brought to the notice of relevant authorities, her father would face restitution, penalties incurred for tax evasion, and probable jail time.
It was beyond belief.
She lifted her head and looked at Alexei with undisguised incredulity for a few unguarded seconds, before reassembling her features into a taut mask as realisation hit.
‘There’s more.’
Natalya’s eyes flashed dark fire as they fixed on his own. ‘How can there be more?’
Alexei reached behind him, collected a second folder from his desk and handed it to her.
Her reluctance to examine the contents was apparent, and he watched in silence as her shoulders stiffened before she turned her attention to the written details, the photographs, and caught the moment irrefutable proof led to the only possible conclusion.
Roman Montgomery led a double life and had been doing so for many years.
There was an apartment in Paris, occupied by a mistress. A London apartment in fashionable Notting Hill housed a second mistress. Each of whom were maintained by Roman, whose visits coincided over the years with so-called business trips to both cities.
Deeds to both properties were buried beneath a list of subsidiary companies, ultimately tracing back to one man...her father.
Disbelief, together with emotions she was loath to name, coalesced into anger she fought hard to control.
The burning question had to be why had Alexei Delandros hired accredited investigators to delve deep into Roman Montgomery’s business affairs and his personal life?
Why expend so much time, effort and money?
To do what?
Blackmail?
Her father? Her?
On the surface, such conjecture appeared unconscionable.
It took considerable effort to remain relatively calm, when her overwhelming desire was to toss both folders onto Alexei’s desk and walk out, take the elevator down to basement car park level and exit with a squeal of tyre rubber.
Not the best idea...but incredibly satisfying. Provided she maintained control and didn’t crash the car. Or worse, suffer an injury or three.
Her eyes darkened as they fused with his own.
‘What do you intend to do with this information?’
Alexei regarded her thoughtfully, noted the tension evident in the way she stood, the straight back, squared shoulders, her eyes fixed intently on his own.
‘That depends on you.’
The only visible indication apparent was a slight narrowing of her eyes, followed seconds later by an increased pulse-beat at the base of her throat.
A vivid reminder of past occasions when he’d touched his lips to that pulse, savoured it, before kissing it gently with his mouth. Her soft husky groan followed by a faint gasp as he used his teeth to tease and nibble a little.
Almost as if his body remembered, he felt its damning response, and silently cursed as he shifted position, using the moment to transfer a slim document and pen from his desk and extend it towards her.
Natalya’s eyes flashed with fine fury as she recognised it as a duplicate of the contract she’d just destroyed.
‘I have no intention of attaching my signature to a document representing any company involving your name.’
‘That’s your final decision?’
‘Yes.’
‘You might care to consider the fallout if I disclose the information I have on your father to the relevant authorities and the media.’
He’d do that?
The answer was clearly apparent in the chilling darkness in his gaze, and her mind reeled at the impact the exposure would have on her parents, their lives, her mother once Roman’s infidelity became known.
Anger burned her throat. ‘You bastard.’
‘Language,’ Alexei chided mildly.
For a brief moment she wanted to cause him physical harm, unaware how well he was able to read her.
Silence filled the room...ominous, intrusive, threatening.
‘Decision time, Natalya.’
The silky warning apparent in his voice acted as a reality check, and earned him a baleful glare.
‘I need to consider my options.’
‘There are two.’ His gaze seared her own. ‘You sign, or you don’t.’ He waited a beat, then added with irrefutable inflexibility, ‘It’s a simple no-brainer.’
Her father’s indiscretions made public. Worse, much worse...her mother’s humiliation and heartbreak.
The mere thought of the snide whispers, the disdain as the social elite tore her mother’s marriage, her very life to shreds...
A silent curse rose and died in her throat. She couldn’t do that to a caring, loving woman who in no way deserved such denigration.
Natalya subjected Alexei to a killing look which should have felled him on the spot, and gritted her teeth in sheer frustration when he displayed no reaction whatsoever.
‘Give me the damn paperwork.’
Seconds later she tore it from his extended hand and began reading the various clauses. Carefully checking no word or phrase had been changed from the contract she’d initially signed.
Every detail was clearly defined, stating as his PA she’d be on call twenty-four-seven when necessary, and available to accompany him on business trips within Australia and overseas. The contract would be valid for one year...renewable by mutual agreement.
While a term of one year had seemed perfectly reasonable, now it stretched way too long. ‘I insist renegotiating the one-year term down to three months.’
‘No.’
His unequivocal refusal ramped up her anger to boiling point. ‘Revenge or blackmail?’ she demanded tightly. ‘Which?’
‘Neither.’
He expected her to believe that? ‘And the moon is a ball of blue cheese,’ she offered with deliberate disparagement.
If he displayed so much as a glimmer of humour, she would hit him and be damned to the consequences. Only a forward flash of reality provided her saving grace, and she forced herself to mentally calm down, breathe, and stick to the basics.
‘What guarantee do I have you won’t go public?’
Alexei spared her a steely look. ‘My word.’
‘Not good enough,’ Natalya dismissed with a retaliatory edge, and glimpsed his eyes harden at her temerity.
‘The original certified documentation is held in a bank’s locked security box.’
She didn’t hesitate in issuing a cool demand. ‘Copies?’
‘Returned to the bank’s security holding after you’ve signed a new employment contract.’
‘I’ll require a certified bank receipt in confirmation.’
He leant back against the desk, seemingly relaxed, but only a fool would ignore the restrained power apparent, or doubt his intent to use it. ‘Done.’
