Too Proud to be Bought
The humble waitress and the Russian billionaireWaitress Zara Evans doesnt belong in glittering high society. That is until she finds herself unexpectedly at an exclusive party and manages to captivate the most soughtafter man in the room Russian oligarch Nikolai Komarov by attracting his undivided attentionFor Nikolai, theres something about Zaras beauty that makes her stand out from the firstclass crowd. Experience has taught him all women have their price, but he has never encountered anyone like Zara a young woman who is too proud, too independent, too wilful to be bought
So how come you dramatically ripped up the cheque I left you?
Incredulously, she stared back. You know exactly why. You paid me over double what I was owed! she accused.
He raised his eyebrows.'Thats the first time someones ever complained that Ive overpaid them, he drawled.
Dont be obtuse, Nikolaiyou know exactly what I mean.
No, I dont. I thought you were good at your job and deserved the extra payment.
What? Or the extra services provided?
He froze. You think that Im the kind of man who pays for sex?
Can we keep your ego out of it for a moment? This isnt about youits about me, she shot back, swallowing down the intense hurt she still felt at the memory of him waving that wretched envelope at her as if she was some kind of hooker. So why the over-generous gesture, if not for that?
For a moment he was silent as he battled with his feelings, angry that she was forcing him to offer some kind of explanationhe who never had to explain himself to anyone. I realised that Id misjudged you, he said heavily.'That you were not the woman I thought you to be.
Dear Reader (#ua70eead7-7abd-5edc-bba2-ad587217d2b7),
One hundred. Doesnt matter how many times I say it, I still cant believe thats how many books Ive written. Its a fabulous feeling but more fabulous still is the news that Mills & Boon are issuing every single one of my backlist as digital titles. Wow. I cant wait to share all my stories with you - which are as vivid to me now as when I wrote them.
Theres BOUGHT FOR HER HUSBAND, with its outrageously macho Greek hero and A SCANDAL, A SECRET AND A BABY featuring a very sexy Tuscan. THE SHEIKHS HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts andwell, I could go on, but Ill leave you to discover them for yourselves.
I remember the first line of my very first book: So youve come to Australia looking for a husband? Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia to escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100
story and couldnt decide what to write, he said, Why dont you go back to where it all started?
So I did. And thats how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. Its about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him Wouldnt you know it?
Ill end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers.
Love,
Sharon xxx
Mills & Boon are proud to present a thrilling digital collection of all Sharon Kendricks novels and novellas for us to celebrate the publication of her amazing and awesome 100th book! Sharon is known worldwide for her likeable, spirited heroines and her gorgeous, utterly masculine heroes.
SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that shed just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life
Too Proud to be Bought
Sharon Kendrick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To David Smalla true knight in shining armour!
CONTENTS
Cover (#u4170373b-cd73-521e-97c6-083e09238fd0)
Extract (#u23052147-4f3e-529d-8da0-bd9dace4c576)
Dear Reader (#ue458c8e5-5d9d-560b-93d9-d711b7382160)
About the Author (#u75981479-f970-5f0b-8209-094880a7660d)
Title Page (#u04812bbe-647d-569f-b3e6-83b778613359)
Dedication (#u10e69fb7-67f7-56a5-b275-97e3cd2de86e)
CHAPTER ONE (#ubbc0616b-8c16-5eb5-b928-1a751e91ece5)
CHAPTER TWO (#u4b8d1681-2b16-536a-9320-5f089e99f477)
CHAPTER THREE (#u9a9e1bdd-b855-514d-bb4c-41e1ce57ab01)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua70eead7-7abd-5edc-bba2-ad587217d2b7)
IT WAS like looking at a stranger.
A glamorous, sexy stranger.
Zara blinked in disbelief at the image which gleamed back at her from the long mirrorall curves and shadows and expanses of unaccustomed bare flesh. How long since she had looked like thislike a real woman instead of a drudge? Though come to think of it, she could never remember looking quite like this before.
The acid-green satin dress clung to her body like syrup, delicate fabric pooling to the floor in a silken stream. It was light years away from her usual jeans and sloppy T-shirtsbut the differences didnt stop there. Her eyes looked huge and sooty above carefully highlighted cheekbones and her usual ponytail had been replaced with a slick and grown-up chignon, leaving her bare neck feeling curiously vulnerable. Fake diamonds sparkled at her throat and hung in glittering waterfalls from her ears. She narrowed her eyes. Didnt she look just a littleostentatious?
Resisting the urge to chew on her carefully manicured nails, she looked down at her friend, who was kneeling on the floor at her feet. Emma, I cant, she croaked.
Cant what? Emma gave the silken hem of the dress a final tug.
I cant gatecrash this partyIm a waitress, not a socialite! I cant target some mystery Russian billionaire because you think hed be good for your business. And I cant carry off wearing the kind of outfit which makes me feel as if Im not wearing anything at all. Shall I go on?
Emma took the pin out of her mouth. Rubbish! Of course you can. Youll be doing us both a favour. I get to showcase one of my dresses to one of the worlds richest menand you get your first night out since heaven only knows when. Believe me, Zara, chances like this dont come along very often. Nikolai Komarov owns department stores in every major city in the world and hes a connoisseur of beautiful women. Hes itching to have me design a collection for him or to clothe his latest mistresshe just doesnt know it yet!
Zara glanced down at the gossip magazine which was open to reveal a black and white photo of the Russian oligarch and more doubts pricked over her skin as his pale and strangely intense eyes seemed to bore straight into her like twin laser beams. And Im supposed to give him your business card?
Why not?
Becausebecause its like Im going to be touting for trade at a social occasion.
Nonsense. Theyll all be doing it. Its whats known in the business world as networking. It isnt as if youre hurting anybody, is it? And anyway, you could do with something like this. How long is it since you had any real enjoyment?
Enjoyment? Zaras fingers tightened around the little feathered concoction of a handbag she was holding because her friends question had touched a nerve. And maybe the nerve was rawer than shed thought. It did seem an eternity since she had been out anywhereunless it was to the grocery store or pharmacy at the end of the road. Her beloved godmothers final illness had dragged on and on until death had seemed like a release from all the little indignities and sadnesses she had borne along the way.
For months, Zaras life had been dominated by the sickroom while she had nursed the woman who hadnt even been a blood relative. But her loyalty to the lady whod taken her in after the death of her parents meant that shed dropped her studies to care for her without a second thought. Day and night she had juggled meals, care, bills and medicinesand waitressing for Emmas mothers catering company whenever she could squeeze it in.
And when it had all been over, and the last of the all-too-few sympathy cards had been read, Zara had felt lonely and bereft. As if too much had happened for her to ever contemplate returning to the carefree student life shed known before. There were still debts to be settled, tooand her grim determination not to lose the little house shed been bequeathed seemed to dominate her thoughts. An unknown future lay ahead of her, and it was scary.
So why not have a little fun, Zara? Why not be a Cinderella for the night and dance all your cares away? You know youll be doing me a huge favour.
Zara gave a wry smile as Emmas voice butted into her thoughts. Could she? If only cares could simply be danced awayhow much simpler the world would be. Yet maybe her friend was right. What was stopping her from having a little light-hearted diversion? Unless she was secretly yearning for the alternative scenario of yet another night spent worrying about the stack of unpaid bills, which wouldnt seem to go away
Okay, she said, drawing her shoulders back and taking one last look at her reflection. Ill go. Ill enjoy wearing this exquisite gown youve created and try to enjoy being on the other side of a tray for oncedrinking the champagne instead of handing it out! And Ill walk up to this Russian oligarch of yours and give him your card. Hows that?
Perfect! Ive primed the other waitresses about it and they think its a wonderful idea. I guess they cant really object, since my mum is the one whos employing them and shes not even in the country! Now go! Go ongo!
Clutching the crumpled money her friend had thrust at her, Zara walked out of the small studio in too-high heels and hailed the welcoming light of a black cab before she had time to change her mind about a scheme which seemed to be growing crazier by the second.
The summer evening was still light and every flower in the capital seemed to be in bloom, but as the taxi drew up outside the Embassy her heart began to race. What if she was discovereda humble waitress masquerading as a bonafide guest? An imposter who had no right to be there. Wouldnt they throw her out and kick up the most tremendous fuss in the process? Yet the man who collected her ticket at the door did nothing other than flick her a quick, admiring glance and Zara drew a deep breath as she walked into the gleaming ballroom.
The vast room looked spectacular. Glittering chandeliers threw diamond lights over tall vases of scarlet roses and a string quartet was playing on a raised dais in front of a shiny, bare dance-floor. She glanced at the other guests and thought how amazing they looked.
Especially the female guests. Their diamonds were the real thing and surely that stood out by a mile. Was the rich Russian really going to be impressed by what she was wearinga hand-crafted gown made by an ambitious young fashion studentwhen there was so much screamingly expensive couture in this room?
She could see a couple of men turning round to glance at her and their women partners following suit. Could they guess that she was operating outside her comfort zonethat she was actually trespassing? Suddenly, Emmas mad scheme seemed destined to fail and, nervously, Zara grabbed a glass of champagne from a girl shed worked with on countless occasions and took a mouthful of cold wine. The alcohol relaxed her a littleespecially when a couple of the other waitresses she knew winked and murmured hello in passing.
But something was making her feel uncomfortablesome sixth sense, which told her she was being watched.
Now youre just being paranoid,she told herself.
Yet the sensation persisted as she moved through the glamorous throng until she found her eyes being drawn unwillingly to a man who was standing at the far end of the ballroom.
And suddenly, she couldnt stop looking.
It was like seeing a drop of blood on virgin snowbecause he stood out from everyone else in the room. His hair was the colour of beaten gold, his eyes were glacially blue and he possessed a hard and arrogant mouth, which spoke of experience and sensuality. Zara realised that the mans high, sculpted cheekbones and piercing eyes were oddly familiarand then she realised why. She felt a shiver whisper over her skin. It was Nikolai Komarovthe Russian oligarch, and the man she was supposed to be targeting.
Her first thought was that his photo hadnt done him justiceon the page he had been appealing but in the flesh he was perfect. And her second thought was that he was the most intimidating man she had ever seen. His face made her think of a diamondwith its hard, sculpted angles and those cold, glittering eyes. And as for the rest of him
Zara swallowed down an unfamiliar kind of hunger. Powerful, wealthy tycoon he might be, but, more than anything, he was pure and unbridled masculinity.
A beautifully cut suit moulded his body, emphasising wide shoulders, solid torso and narrow hips, which tapered down to long, muscular legs. He held himself tall and very straight, and stood so still that for a moment Zara thought he might almost have been made from wax, rather than from flesh and blood. But waxen eyes did not gleam like that, did they? And nor did they focus with unmoving scrutiny on their subjectthe way he was doing with her. It felt like having all the breath punched from her body as she found herself captured in his cold yet searing gaze.
From his position at the far end of the room, Nikolai saw the woman glance over at him and felt his body tense, although a woman looking at him was nothing new. Women looked at him all the time. Though not usually like that, he conceded. Like a startled little deer whod just spied the big, bad hunter deep in the forests
Who the hell was she? Hed noticed her the moment shed walked into the ballroom in that clinging green gown and he had been watching her ever since. His expression grew thoughtful. Something about her made her stand out from the crowd of overdressed women and he couldnt work out what it was. How come shed ignored everybody in the room except to smile rather nervously at the waitresses?
With the practised look of the connoisseur, his eyes swept over her in lazy assessment. Unlike most of the women here tonight, her face wasnt stiffened with Botox and her hair had the natural shine of youth. But it was her body which was the real showstopper. He felt a sudden flare of lust as he acknowledged that her body was absolutely amazing. All curves and seductive hollows and none of the gaunt look of the over-dieted. He let his gaze drift downwards over her bare shouldersat skin which gleamed as softly as silkto where her pert and luscious breasts formed a cleavage which was like an open invitation to a mans lips.
He put down his barely touched glass of champagne onto a passing waitresss tray. Nikolais interest was piqued. He quirked her a smile he only ever used sparingly, and waited for the inevitable. Any minute now and she would start walking towards him with a hopeful little look of expectation on her face.
She didnt.
Nikolais eyes narrowed as the woman seemed to hesitate, before turning away and beginning to walk in the opposite direction. And for a moment he couldnt quite believe it.
She had turned her back on him!
Now his interest was definitely alerted. All the hunter instincts which usually lay dormantmade redundant by modern women who preferred to do the chasingrose to heat his blood. Was she playing games? Had she turned away simply to give him the opportunity to feast his eyes on the delectable swell of her buttocks? Nikolais gaze was drawn irresistibly to the twin satin-covered globes and he swallowed. Because nobody could deny that it was a very delectable bottom indeed
Like a puppet who was having his strings twitched by some unseen fingers, he began to tail her.
Zara could feel the little hairs on the back of her neck prickling and the sudden race of her heart as she moved through the ballroom. She wasnt being paranoid and she wasnt imagining it. He was following her! The intimidatingly handsome Russian with the icy stare who had been standing as still as a waxwork was now pursuing her across the room with a sure stealth.
She swallowed. Had he rumbled her? Guessed that she was an imposter with no earthly right to be here? In which case, wouldnt it just be best if she headed for the door, grabbed a bus and then phoned Emma with the news that her idea had been a disaster and that they should never have entertained it for more than a second? Because suddenly, the idea of waltzing up to him and presenting him with a business card seemed the height of crassness. What had given her the idea that she would have the nerve to do something like that?
Risking a quick glance over her shoulder, she could see that he had been swallowed up by the crowd and she speeded up as much as her impractical shoes would allow. Shielded by a cluster of guests, she ducked behind a huge marble pillar and stayed there for long enough to convince herself that shed shaken him off. And when she came out, there was no sign of him. That rather daunting presence and those piercing eyes were nowhere to be seen. Quashing down an unmistakeable pang of disappointment, she glanced around, realising that she could make her escape, and
Hey.
Zara froze as a deep accent shed never heard cut through the jumble of her thoughts, some bone-deep instinct telling her that it was him. It could only be him. And reflecting how unfair life could bethat a man who looked like some sort of golden and dangerous god should have the kind of voice which sent tingles down a womans spine just by uttering a word which managed to sound like both a command and a question. Ignore him, she told herself. Pretend you havent heard him and carry on walking.
She made to take a step forward but he spoke again and she found her feet frozen into immobility by his silken question.
Are you trying to run away from me?
Short of being rude and causing a scene, Zara knew that she had no choice other than to brazen it out. Pinning what she hoped was a confident smile to her lips, she turned to face him, her heart hammering beneath the thin silk of her dress. Why, do you think I should run away from you? she questioned calmly.
Well, that rather depends, he murmured as his eyes drifted over her body.
Yet even as Zara felt her skin tingle in response to his unashamed appraisal she knew that this was dangerous. Very dangerous. He was flirting with herand in a way which was completely outside her comfort zone. Yet what could she do other than to play the part of the sophisticate she had been dressed to look likeeven if inside she suddenly felt like a scared little girl who was out of her depth? She tried to remember the kind of things which seasoned flirts said on television programmes.
Really? She widened her eyes. On what?
Nikolais lips gave a flickering curve of satisfaction. This was better. Much better. For a moment back then, he had thought she meant itthat she was actually giving him the brush-off. And when had that last happened? Never, he reflected sagely. He might have been described as the worlds biggest commitment-phobe, but he was a master at getting women into his arms. He felt the quick beat of pleasure as he realised that up close she was just as delicious. On whether youre any good at dealing with difficult and demanding men, he mused.
It was such an outrageous thing to say that for a moment Zara forgot that all she was supposed to be doing was showcasing her friends dress. She found herself remembering all the fantastic people in the caring professions shed met when shed been nursing her godmother and all the difficult conditions they had to endure every day. And then she compared their stoicism with the arrogance she saw written on this mans handsome face.
She found herself studying his costly black dinner suitthe price of which could probably have fed a family of four for at least a month. She thought about the pile of medical bills shed been left with, and some rogue streak of rebellion made itself known. And besides, wasnt it better to concentrate on indignation rather than acknowledge the dizzying effect he was having on her senses?
Most people dont confess to their faults on a first meeting, she commented drily.
Icy blue eyes glittered with mischief. Arent you rather taking it for granted that theres going to be a second meeting? he questioned softly. And isnt that a little presumptuous of you, or is that what youve grown to expect from mentheir instant capitulation and desire to see you again?
Her experience of men was so small that Zara wanted to laughand the idea that someone like her should have men capitulating was even funnier. Especially a man as gorgeous as this one, who was clearly living in a parallel universe. Actually, I never take anything for granted, she answered. And I certainly try to avoid generalisations about the opposite sex.
Nikolais eyes narrowed as he heard a note in her voice which he couldnt quite define. Something which sounded a little likecensure? Once again, he felt a stir of interest. You know, I get the distinct sense that you dont approve, he observed softly.
Now Zara sensed an even greater danger. Instinct told her to move away and yet another instinctone which was much more powerfulkept her rooted to the spot. She stared up into the icy glitter of his blue eyes and her heart missed a beat. Of what?
Of me, milaya moya. Of me.
How can I possibly have an opinion about you, when were complete strangers? she questioned.
Yes, we are, he agreed. But that is something which is easily remedied. He gave a brief smile as he watched closely to see whether his name might stir any sign of recognition. My name is Nikolai Komarov.
Zara felt her throat thicken, knowing that now was the time to look at him and to say, very calmly:Actually, I already knew that. I also know that you are a hugely influential man with your own department stores as well as innumerable gorgeous girlfriendsand my friend happens to be a very talented designer. Do you like the dress Im wearing? Actually, its one of hers. Perhaps I could give you one of her cards and you might think about looking at her collection?But as those palely intense eyes studied her she knew that she couldnt go through with it. She couldnt. Was that because she was enjoying the fantasy of flirting with him? Of pretending shereallywas the person she was dressed up to be instead of some broke little waitress who was doing a friend a favour? Youreyoure Russian, she said slowly.
How very perceptive of you. But Nikolai felt his mouth tighten with an odd kind of disappointment. So it had not been an instant eyes-across-a-room thing after all. She had heard of himhe would have staked his fortune on that. He had seen the signs of suppressed recognition too many times in the past and he had seen it flare in her eyes. But he didnt know why he should be either surprised or disappointedbecause women always played these games, didnt they? They lied. They indulged in subterfuge. They would open their pretty eyes very wide and insist that black was whiteand sometimes he suspected they even ended up believing it themselves. You know many Russians, perhaps?
No. None at all.
Until now, of course.
Until now, she agreed, with a slightly nervous smile. Would he be appalled if he knew who she wasan imposter who had no right to be here? She searched for clues in his face. Good guy or bad guy? Or just a wickedly hot guy who was used to getting whatever he wanted from a woman?
And you are? he prompted.
His icy eyes were cutting through her defences as he waited for her to respond and for a moment Zara was half tempted to give him a false name. A bogus identity to go with her one-off appearanceuntil she told herself how stupid that was. She would never see him again after tonight. A name like hers meant nothing to a man like this.
ImZara, she said falteringly. Zara Evans.
A beautiful name, he mused softly, observing that cute tremble of her lips. To go with a very beautiful woman.
The throwaway compliment made her skin glowit seemed like for ever since someone had paid her one, and nobody had ever called her beautiful before. But Zara told herself that she mustnt fall for his charm. He probably came out with statements like that every minute of every dayslick, perfectly timed statements, which were guaranteed to have women falling under his spell. She opened her mouth to say something smart and instead it came out as a breathless little th-thank you and she could have kicked herself.
Can I get you a drink, Zara?
She shook her head. No, thanksIve already had one.
Oh, I think youre allowed more than one. He stared straight into her eyes. Though no more than two. He smiled slightly to show he was teasing her.
He was making it sound as if the two of them were involved in some kind of conspiracy and the thought of that made Zara draw herself up short. What the hell did she think she was doing? This wasnt why she was supposed to be hereand if she had lost her nerve about foisting one of Emmas cards on him, then she ought to make herself scarce.
Because this man was dangeroushadnt he told her so himself? Actually, Id better go.
Why?
Because Her words tailed away as she tried to think of a good reason why she might wish to leave a party when she had only just arrived.
You dont really have a reason, do you? he questioned as he saw her bite her lip in a moment of indecision, which was oddly appealing. Not when there is music playing and Im being plagued by an urgent desire to dance with you, which simply wont go away. So come here.
To Zaras horror, he reached out and laced her fingers with his and began to lead her through the throngs of people. Well, maybe horror wasnt the right word, she conceded as people began to part to let them through. Excitement might have been more accurate. She could feel hot colour flaring at her cheeks as she became aware of heads turning to watch them and the pulse at her wrist began to hammer wildly beneath his fingertips. But it wasnt until he had halted by the small space of floor directly in front of the musicians that she tipped her head up to gaze at him.
We cant dance! she whispered.
Why not?
Because
Stop saying because. Come and dance with me instead. His icy eyes glittered out a cool challenge. You know you want to.
And the awful thing was that he was right. She did. There was a melting, yearning pool in the pit of her stomach, which was longing for him to pull her into his armsand when he did she gave an instinctive intake of breath, which caused his fingers to tighten around her waist.
You see? he murmured. Its what you wanted all along.
Zara felt dizzy. What could she do? His hands had moved down and were now lying on her hips, the fingers splayed against the silk of her dress with a lazy and proprietary ease so that for a moment it felt as if he were touching the bare flesh beneath.
Relax, he instructed softly.
How can I relax when everybody is looking at us?
You should just ignore themor get used to it. The men are looking at us because they envy me, and the women because they wish they were standing where you were standing, milaya moya.
It was an arrogant assessment, though Zara doubted that the first part was true. Why would the men envy Nikolai? Especially when there were loads of women in the room who were more attractive than herrich, titled women who would probably be dancing confidently instead of worrying that they were going to spear his foot with one of their lethal heels.
Yet the soft music was very seductive and more seductive still was the way in which he pulled her towards himalmost before she realised hed done it. She could feel the jut of his hips against hers and suddenly she became aware of the formidable heat of his hard body pressing into hers and could sense the desire which radiated from his powerful frame. Zara swallowed.
Relax. You seem rather uptight, he commented as an irresistible tug of desire shot through him.
She felt the almost careless caress of his thumb at her waist. What could she saythat the last time shed had a slow dance with a man had been at some awful, noisy club, and it had felt nothing like this?
Im not used to dancing, she said.
Why not?
Her face inches away from his shoulder, Zara wondered how best to answer him. Even if she hadnt been tied to the sickroom for the past however many months, she still couldnt have imagined herself whirling around a formal ballroom like this. It seemed rather old-fashioned.
She risked a glance up at his hard-boned face. How old was he? Difficult to say, but certainly a lot older than her. He had experience written on every sculpted angle and there were faint lines of cynicism etching the sides of his mouth. Yet there was nothing old-fashioned about the way he was holding her, or the way it was making her pulse rocket. It felt elemental. As if dancing were something far too intimate to be doing in front of a crowd of peopleBecause
There you go. That wretched word again. He pulled her closer and felt her soft flesh yielding to his as he bent his head to her long neck and, closing his eyes, he inhaled her subtle scent. Was it roses he could smell? Didnt anyone ever tell you that repetition is boring?
You asked me a question and I was answering it, she protested.
I know I did. But suddenly Im much more interested in the language of your body.
Thatsoutrageous!
He bent his lips to her ear. I know it is. But youre making me feel outrageous. Dont you feel a little outrageous, too, Zara?
No.
Yes, you do, he demurred softly. Go on. Be brave. Admit it.
End the dance,she told herself fiercely as she began to feel even more out of her depth.End it now. Walk out of the ballroom and dont stop until youve reached the street. If you do it firmly then hes not likely to risk a scene by trying to stop you.
But it was difficult to do anything other than to let the sweet strains of the string instruments lull her and the power of his touch wash over her senses. Zara could feel the slide of silk over her skin as she moved in time to the music, and she could feel the barely touching sensation of his fingers pressing against her flesh. A shiver of longing rippled over her flesh, a sensation so unexpected and unwanted that she felt the sudden thunder of her heart. Did he feel it, too? Was that why he positioned himself so that they were fractionally closer and her body seemed to be silently screaming that it wanted to be closer still? She had to stop all thisshe had to, before she made a complete and utter fool of herself.
She pulled away from him with the reluctance of someone who was being forced to leave a warm fire to face a freezing blizzard outside. I really must go, she said.
He nodded, knowing that if he stayed on the dance-floor with this rapidly escalating sense of arousal, then soon any kind of movement might prove impossible. And yet her abrupt ending of the dance made him reluctant to let the evening endand he wasnt quite sure why. Because he was the one who usually called all the shots, who made the decision when to leave and when to stay?
Okay. Ill take you home. He saw her lips open and he shook his head. And before you go through the motions of protesting, you must realise that Im not going to allow you to go home on your own. Especially not looking like that, he thought. Not with the tight buds of her nipples outlined with such erotic clarity against the gleam of the emerald silk. Unless you have your own car waiting outside? he questioned unevenly.
Could she swing it? Zara wondered. Convince him that one of those purring black limos which were clogging the streets around the embassy actually belonged to her? And then what? She could imagine him insisting on seeing her to the car and then the shame of having to admit that she was nothing but a fraud. She shook her head. No, I came by taxi. Um, where do you live? she hedged.
I have a house on the other side of the park.
In a moment of real indecision, she looked at him until she realised that she was about to throw away a heavensent opportunity. Why not take up his offer? Mightnt she get the chance to hand over Emmas business card before she said goodnight? He had already admired the way she looked, so maybe she could turn round and tell him it was all her friends handiwork. Okay, thenthank youI will. But as I live a littlefarther outthe car can drop you off first, and then take me on to my place afterwards.
Nikolai ran a thoughtful finger over his lips. He thought that sounded like a very abrupt conclusion to an evening he had no desire to see end. At least, not yet. With a sudden ache, he acknowledged the sharpening to his senses which this fresh-faced minx seemed to have provoked. Hed been working so hard lately. Tunnelling all his energy and vision into his latest ambitious project, which meant that sex had been sidelined. And his last mistress had drained him with her tiresome requests that he make an honest woman of her'. Was there an honest woman in the world? he wondered bitterly. If so, he had yet to meet her. He flicked Zara a look which was now speculative.
Lets go, he murmured.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua70eead7-7abd-5edc-bba2-ad587217d2b7)
A BLACK limousine was waiting as they emerged from the ambassadors residence into the fragrant warmth of the evening and Zara felt as if she were stepping into a different world. Smoothly, the chauffeur opened the door for her and she sank onto the back seat and started looking around with a sense of wonder. What a car! The interior looked and smelt of pure luxury, all subtle and intoxicating and soft cream leather. And when Nikolai slid his long-legged frame in beside her and turned his head to look at her she could feel the sudden thunder of her heart. In the dim, enclosed space his proximity seemed even more potent than it had done on the dance-floor and Zara found herself wondering about the wisdom of travelling home with such a devastatingly sexy stranger.
You know, its still very early, he observed slowly, watching the tiny pulse which flickered so frantically at her temple.
Zara found that there was nowhere to look other than at the compelling gleam in his eyes. So it is, she observed lightly.
He liked the way that her hair was a woven mass of caramel and sunshine and he wanted to remove all the clips and see it tumble down around her shoulders. He could see the outline of her legs through the silk of her dressslender, lean legsand he felt another sharp ache of desire. And were very close to my house, he said, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. You could always come in for a quick drink, if you wanted.
Zaras thoughts were scrambled by the frantically conflicting messages firing between body and brain. A strange man inviting you into his house for a nightcap was a definite no-no. And yet this was not any manthis just happened to be the most devastatingly attractive man shed ever met. Wasnt Cinderella allowed a little glimpse of the princes palace before her clothes returned to rags?
Icould.
But youre not sure?
What do you think?
I think you want to.
Zara gave an uncertain laugh. It isnt always wise just to do what you want.
No? Ive always thought exactly the opposite. That life is much too short to be dictated to by social etiquette. His eyes narrowed. What if I give you my word that well have one quick drink and then my car will take you wherever you want to go? How does that sound?
It sounded like mad-nesscomplete and utter mad-nessand yet it also sounded like the most tantalising offer she had received in a long time. Zaras world had been coloured bleak and sombre by recent eventscould anyone really blame her if she wanted to peek at a more vibrant version of how life could be lived? One where shiny limousines picked you up from fancy parties and silent drivers sat and took you wherever you wanted to go.
But something stopped her and maybe it was the realisation that this was outside her realm of experience on so many levels. Instinct told her she was dealing with a seasoned and experienced man. He was like a lion, she thought suddenly, her eyes straying to his thick mane of hairdeep and lustrous as beaten-gold. And a woman should not go into a lions lair unless she was expecting to be eaten
She shook her head. Its very sweet of you, she said, and drew a breath with the same kind of determination which had seen her successfully battle with the doctors to keep her godmother at home during the final days of her life. But I dont think its such a good idea.
He could see that she meant it and for a moment Nikolai was surprised. Usually, he had to fight women off and had taken her acceptance as a givenespecially when invitations to his home were precious and few. Yet her refusal intrigued as well as surprised him.
Are you sure? he questioned.
Quite sure, she said, with more conviction than she felt.
Well, in that case
There was a heartbeat of a pause as he leaned across the space and stared down into her widening eyes and soft lips. Ill just have to kiss you goodnight right herewont I, milaya moya?
Her fingers gripped the soft leather seat. And do you always kiss women you hardly know goodnight? she asked breathlessly.
Not always, net. But you have been tantalising me all nightever since you started running away from me at the party. And I cant remember the last time I had to chase a woman, quite literally in your case.
If only he knew why she had been running! Suddenly Zara felt stricken with guilt. But
Shut up, he said, almost gently as he bent his mouth to hers.
Afterwards, she blamed the champagneand his experiencebecause she did nothing to stop him. But it was more than cold wine on an empty stomach. It was hunger and it was curiosity. It had been a long time since Zara had been kissed. And no man had ever kissed her the way Nikolai Komarov proceeded to do in the back seat of his chauffeur-driven limousine.
All it took was one careless graze of his mouth and she began to tremble in response, causing him to make a small sound of assertion underneath his breath as he pulled her closer. And perhaps it was the comfort of being held like that which made Zara want to melt against him. The warm human contact which made her feel normal again, instead of the person who had become invisible and isolated from the rest of the world by sickness. How long since she had been cuddledor felt any kind of security? With a hungry little cry, she lifted her fingers and tangled them in the thick, beaten gold of his hair and lost herself in the sweetness of his kiss.
Nikolai gave an unsteady laugh as his hand slid across her back, the rawness of her response startling him a little. He had expected sophisticationan erotic routine which she had gone through many times before. And yet the helpless trembling of her body did not go with her smooth, sleek image. Not at all. And wasnt there more than a little tenderness about the way she held him? He swallowed as he drew his mouth away and smoothed a fallen strand of hair away from her cheekbecause tenderness wasnt something he encountered very often and it was curiously persuasive.
You have great passion, I think, he murmured.
Do I? she breathed.
Da. Beautiful passion.
His mouth sought hers once more and it was then that the kiss began to change. Zara gasped as his lips suddenly became more seeking and she found her own opening beneath them. She could sense the tension in his body as his hands splayed over her back, where her flimsy evening dress was cut away to reveal a large keyhole in the material. She could feel his fingers kneading against her bare skin as time slowed and she felt as if she had entered an intimate little world. One where Nikolais tongue inside the warm cavern of her mouth made her feel as if she were being dragged down into some dark and erotic vortex.
Nikolai
What? he growled.
This is
Amazing, he purred, briefly lifting his head so that his eyes glittered out their unashamed desire, before tracing his finger over the fleshy trembling of her bottom lip. Da. Da. I know it is.
She had been about to say that it was wrongand yet her body was telling her otherwise. Could something be wrong when it felt so right? she pondered distractedly. When his fingers were now tiptoeing down her neck towards her breasts, before skating with practised ease to alight on the aching swell of one silk-covered nipple.
Zara swallowed down the dryness in her throat. This is cr-crazy, she gasped as his mouth bent to one aching breast.
Nikolai flicked his tongue over the thin silk, which was the only barrier between him and her bare nipple, as he heard her whispered little gasp. Did it make her feel better if she let herself protest about what they were doing, he wondered cynically, even though she clearly wanted him just as much as he wanted her?
But women were contrary creatureshe knew that. Often they liked to disguise their own earthy desire for fear that a man was judging them for being too easy'. Should he reassure her now that he didnt give a curse about convention and that she could be as easy as she liked.
He drifted his hand down over one slender hip, his mouth briefly leaving the now-moist material of her gown and noting that he had left a darkened ring over her breast. You do realise that you have the most fantastic body? he questioned. And that your dress shows it off quite beautifully.
She shook her head, only dimly aware that she was blowing the opportunity to talk about the dress. St-stop it, she whispered.
Stop complimenting you? I thought all women liked to be complimented.
Thats not what I meant, she breathed. I meant, that you shouldnt be doingthat.
But you like me doing that. He felt her little squirm of acquiescence. And you dont want me to stop it, do you?
Ido.
No, you dont. You want me to move my hand down to your ankle, dont you? Like this.
Nikolai! Zara swallowed as his index finger made a provocative little circling movement there.
And then I think you want me slowly to slide it up underneath your dress. Like this, da?
Nikolai, she breathed as she felt the brush of his hand resting on the curve of her calf.
Why, youre not even wearing any stockings, he observed unevenly. Just bare legs. What a very wicked young lady you are. No wonder that dress was clinging so provocatively to you as you walked into the ballroom.
Oh! She could feel the sudden spring of her body in response to his feather-light touchas if it had been woken from a deep, deep sleep and all her senses had suddenly come to urgent life.
Listen, were really very close to my house, he said unevenly as the car slid to a halt at some traffic lights. He was so aroused by their encounter that he could barely get the words out and only supreme self-control stopped him from continuing what they were doing. But he really couldnt make love to her in the middle of a busy London street, could he? Not with his chauffeur sitting behind the darkened screen and the possibility of some damned traffic warden rapping on the window. Why dont you change your mind and come up for a drink?
Zara stilled. Perhaps it was the blatant falsehood about having a drink when they both knew what was really on his mindand on herswhich made common sense crash into her mind like a dark spectre. That and the fact that she was making out in the back of a car with a man she barely knewand she was risking ruining her friends precious dress along with her own reputation!
Her heart thudding, she pushed his hand away and slithered to the far end of the seat, her trembling fingers groping for her feathered handbag, which lay beside her like a wounded bird. No!
His eyes narrowed but he felt the unmistakeable flicker of irritation. Isnt it a little late in the day for game-playing?
Im not playing But the words died on her lips because she was. She was playing games. Dangerous games.
Pretending to be something she wasnt. Masquerading as his wealthy equal. Maybe that kind of women did make easy love to men theyd just met at a partybut she wasnt one of them. She amended her choice of words to allow her to extricate herself with a modicum of dignity. Im sorry, but its very lateand Im tired.
Nikolai felt the sharp spear of disappointment. Saw from the look on her face that she meant itand he bit back his frustration. Of course she was playing games, probably in the mistaken belief that her refusal would make him think more highly of her. His mouth hardened. Did he have the time or the inclination to go through the necessary number of dates which she decreed obligatory before she let him take her to bed? Was she, he asked himself brutally, worth it?
His eyes drank in the wide green eyes, the flushed cheeks and the kiss-bruised lips and he felt a pulse begin to flicker at his temple. Yes, she was worth itfor novelty value as well as her curiously fresh-faced appeal. Because when was the last time a woman had actually turned him down?
Well, I think thats a pity, he said softly, reaching for his jacket pocket. But before Nikolai could extract one of the business cards he kept there he saw that she was pushing open the car door and swinging her shapely legs out and his brows knitted together in disbelief.
Where the hell do you think youre going?
Home.
I told you that my driver would take you wherever you wanted to go.
Zara shook her head. And Ive changed my mind. I dont want a lift, thank you.
You dont? His eyes narrowed incredulously. Why not?
Zara shook her head as she tried to calm her frantic thoughts. Before she had been ashamed and worried that he might judge her humble little home if he saw it, but now it was much more than that. There was still shame, yesbut the overriding sense of shame was directed at her own appalling behaviour. She had behaved wantonly with a man she barely knew, displaying a fierce sexual hunger which was slightly terrifying. And Nikolai Komarov was the man who had made her feel that way. She didnt want another thing from himand she certainly didnt want his driver reporting back where she lived.
Why not?questioned a rogue voice inside her head.Are you afraid that if he turned up unexpectedly on your doorstep, you might not be able to turn him away?
I think we both know why, she said quietly. We hardly know one another and weve just behaved in a way which was veryinappropriate. She gazed into the ice-blue eyes and steeled herself against their sensual impact. And in view of that I think its probably better if I make my own way home. It was nice to have met youNikolai.
Stepping onto the pavement and taking a moment to steady herself on her high heels, Zara tugged down the silk-satin of her crumpled dress and turned to dart through a gate which led straight into the park, determined that this time he should not follow her.
For a moment Nikolai didnt move, frustration warring with admiration at her unexpected display of independence and feistiness and, yes, downright prudishness. She had walked away without taking his details and she had left him wanting more. She had walked away. He felt the drumming acceleration of his heart and the hot rush of blood to his groin. Now his hunter instincts were screaming to be satisfied and he slid his cell-phone from the pocket of his jacket and dialled up one of his aides.
Speaking rapidly in Russian, he clipped out the facts.
Her name is Zara Evans, he said, tasting her name as if her lips were still open beneath his, fingers of his free hand tapping impatiently against one hard, tense thigh. No, noI dont know where she lives. In fact, I dont know a damned thing about her. Except that he wanted her with a hunger he hadnt felt in a long time. A speculative smile curved the edges of his mouth as he stared up at the leather ceiling of the car. Just find her.
CHAPTER THREE (#ua70eead7-7abd-5edc-bba2-ad587217d2b7)
ZARA picked up the tray of canaps and pinned her most professional smile to her lips as she and the other clutch of Gourmet International waitresses prepared to leave the vast kitchen. She glanced down to check that every grain of caviar was in place and that her tray contained a neat and snowy pile of napkins. Time to go out and flit between the guests. To be smooth and efficient. To top up glasses and whisk away discarded plates before they began to make the place look untidy.
The other waitresses were chatting as they made their way past priceless paintings which lined the corridor leading towards the gardens at the back of the house. But Zara wasnt in the mood for chatting, even though cocktail parties in private houses were usually her favourite kind of job. They were short enough not to allow boredom to creep in, they paid welland were often held in the most luscious of locations. Like tonight. This was such a huge and beautiful setting that it was hard to believe that she was in the centre of London. But then, only the super-rich could afford to live in somewhere like Kensington Palace Gardensa place which had been tagged by the envious as Billionaires Row'. Only the favoured few waitresses had been chosen for such a plum job and the bonus payment should have given Zara cause to smile, but smiling wasnt coming very easily at the moment.
For days now, shed been listless and distracted, her mind going round and round in circles. Preoccupied with the man whod been haunting her dreams and waking hours ever since hed taken her in his arms and made her body thrill to his experienced touch.
Nikolai Komarov. The icy-eyed Russian who had kissed her so passionately in the back of his luxury car after the embassy party last week. The man she had been trying desperately hard not to think about, butno matter how much she tried to push the thoughts awayjust the memory of the way hed touched her made her heart hammer and her body ache.
Angrily, she straightened her shoulders. At least she should be grateful that there had been no repercussions after the event. Her friends mum, her boss, hadnt found out that shed gatecrashed the partyso at least her job was secure. She hadnt even told Emma about what had happened, shed simply returned the dry-cleaned dress to her friend a couple of days later and told her that shed been unable to get a card to the influential Russian billionaire. And that much was true. If shed thrust a card at him after letting him kiss her like that, wouldnt it have looked like some primitive form of barter?
But the whole experience had left Zara feeling vulnerablewondering how she could have behaved like that. Images of the intimate way hed touched her kept coming back to haunt her with provocative clarity. She remembered the way his lips had sucked on her silk-covered breast. The way his fingers had drifted almost negligently over her bare leg. It had made her feel positivelywanton.
And added to her feelings of remorse was the financial insecurity which was still looming large and ugly on the horizon. The bills which had accumulated during her godmothers illness still had to be paid. How on earth was she going to be able to honour them when waitressing paid so poorly and she was ill-equipped to be employed in any other capacity? Maybe she was going to have to sell the house after all, losing her toehold on the precious property market and at a time when prices were at an all-time low. Still, there was absolutely nothing she could do about itat least, not tonight. She was here to do a job and so she had better just get out there and do it.
Resolutely putting her troubles to one side, she stepped out through tall French windows to the gardens, where she could see trees, bright flowerbeds, lawns and fountains. It looked more like an elegant public space than a private garden, she thought. Groups of people stood around in the warm summer eveningthe women wearing pretty dresses and the men tieless and relatively casual. Waiters had already been circulating with chilled bottles of vintage champagne, and at the far end of the garden sat a woman with a fall of dark hair, who was playing gently on a harp.
Crayfish wrapped in toasted-sesame rice and topped with golden caviar? recited Zara as, with a smile, she offered her tray to group of bony-looking women in strappy little dressesbut they all shook their heads regretfully. Only the men accepted, devouring the costly treats in a careless mouthful, oblivious to the calorie-count they contained.
She moved from group to group, her smile not fading until she glanced to the end of the sunlit garden and saw a man standing there. She blinked and then blinked again, as if unable to believe what she was seeing. Because, standing perfectly still with his eyes trained on her, just as they had been when shed first seen him, was Nikolai Komarov. Incredulity making her heart race, she registered the devastating combination of icy blue eyes, hair of beaten goldand a body which was all honed muscular perfection.
Zara felt her feet stumble to a halt as she shook her head, thinking that she had simply imagined him, like someone who was parched from thirst imagining the gleam of water in the distance. Or perhaps the bright sunlight had blinded her to reality, making her think that because a man was tall and statuesque and stood as still as a waxwork it might be Nikolai Komarov.
But there could be no mistake. No other man looked like him. And no other man radiated that particular quality of power and domination
She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat as he began to walk across the grass towards her and she looked around her frantically, as if searching for some means of escape. But what could she do? Put her tray down on the lawn and run? And where could she run to in this enclosed garden, especially when at the very far end there were a couple of burly-looking security men, who didnt look as if theyd let anyone go anywhere without their bosss say-so?
She could see his face more closely now and his eyes looked so pale and cold that her heart began to hammer as he approachedand she could do absolutely nothing about the guilty prickle of her skin as her body acknowledged his devastating presence.
There was a pause before he spoke. A lifetime of a pause while he studied her with a look which managed to be both dispassionate and intense.
Hello, Zara, he said, in a voice edged with sensual danger.
For a moment she didnt reply, as if she still might wake up and find she had been dreaming. But he stood as solid as granite before her, as real as any man had a right to be, and she felt the rush of colour to her cheeks. Nikolai, she breathed.
The very same, he agreed, clipping the words out as if they were bullets, his groin hardening as she said his name in that breathless way. And all he could think of was that she was nothing but a fraud, a liar and a cheatjust like the rest of her sex. It was ironic how predictable women could be. At first hed thought that hed just been scarred by a bad experience. That the template set down for him by his lying and cheating motherwho had walked away and left him without a backward glancewas somehow unique. But he had been wrong. After her desertionthe precious bond between mother and son forgotten in her pursuit of wealthhe had discovered a whole world of ambitious and deceitful women out there. His mouth twisted. When would he ever learn that they were all the same?
He fixed her with a cool look. Surprised? he questioned sarcastically.
Her throat was still as dry as sandpaper. Of course Im surprised, she croakedWhywhy are you here? I dontI dont understand. Whats going on?
Nikolais eyes narrowed. He had been waiting for her, yes, but the reality of seeing her again still took some getting used toespecially when she looked so dramatically different. Tonight those pert breasts were not showcased by the slippery green satin which had drawn his mouth to them like a magnetand nor was she towering and tall in a pair of sexy high heels. Instead, she was wearing a plain black skirt, white blouse and apronan outfit which should have done her no favours at all. And yet somehow the functional uniform did little to disguise the lush curves of her body, drawing attention to every sinuous line of it. Or maybe that was because he had a good idea what lay beneath.
Dont you? He felt the breath thicken in his throat. No ideas at all?
She shook her head, her confusion made worse by the explicit memory of his kisses. None.
Think about it.
From jumbled fragments, the facts began to form some kind of picture in her mind. The only solution which made any kind of sense and yet one which filled her with foreboding as she thought about the possible repercussions. Is thisis this your house?
Bravo! His lips curved into a mocking line. Its one of them. Do you like it?
What could she say? Start protesting that her views on his property portfolio were irrelevant? Or just take the question at face-value and hope that her presence here was some kind of ghastly coincidence? Its a very beautiful house, she said carefully.
I know it is. He gave a short laugh. I saw your reaction when you arrived.
You did?
Sure I did, angel moy. I was standing at my window when your minibus bumped its way up the drive. And I observed the look on your face as you jumped out. It was a look he knew well. That wide-eyed look of awe and wistfulness. The look of someone dazzled by his vast wealth; who coveted it for themselves. Some called it greed, others called it envyall Nikolai knew was that money changed everything. It made people do extraordinary things. Debase themselves. Sell out. Betray even the strongest of bonds and shatter them beyond recognition. It took the very best of human qualities and it twisted them inside out until they were black and unrecognisable. Didnt he know thatbetter than anyone?
Zara saw something dark and haunted pass over his shuttered features and a little shiver of dread began to whisper its way down her spine. Why am I here? she whispered.
Oh, come ontheres no need to make it sound like Im preparing you for a human sacrifice. He shrugged. Its simple. Youre working for me. I specifically requested you. Its my party. Didnt anybody tell you?
She shook her head. We arent always told clients names in advancewe werent tonight.
Well, my cover is blown, angel moyand now you do. Im your client and youre working for me. Youll be serving food. Handing out drinks. Making sure my guests have everything they need. That I have everything I need. You know the drillyoure a waitress, arent you? Thats what you do. At least, thats what you do some of the time. I have to say that Im a little puzzled about your real identity, or indeed about your motivesbut now is not the time to discuss it. Well have plenty of time for that later.
His eyes glittered as they took in her trembling lips and he found that he wanted to crush them beneath his own in an angry kiss. And then? He pushed desire to the back of his mind. Desire could wait. His thick dark lashes lowered fractionally to reveal narrow shards of blue ice. Im looking forward to getting to know you better, Zara.
And with that final silky whisper, which sounded more like a threat, he walked away to a group who were standing beneath a flowering treeleaving Zara staring after him in disbelief. Why had he specifically requested her, as he had put itsomehow managing to make her sound like some sort of commodity hed purchased? In fact, why had he brought her here at all?
She realised that her tray needed replenishing, just as she realised that there was no means of escapeshort of causing some kind of scene, which would heap dishonour not just on her, but on all the other staff. Nothing to do other than to carry on as she normally would and hope that he might give her some kind of reasonable explanation later. Yet even as she thought it she felt an overwhelming sense of unease, because Nikolai Komarov did not look like a man who did reasonable.
Trying to banish his image from her mind, she moved from guest to guest, wondering how she could endure a whole evening of having to stare into his impossibly handsome and mocking face. But as she continued to circulate she noticed that he barely glanced at herand, ironically, Zara found this even worse.
Only once did she look up to meet his cold and imperious gaze and it felt like a lash of freezing rainwater flicked over her. She found herself swallowing down a growing sense of foreboding. Was he angry that she had pretended to be something she wasntthat the woman he had kissed so passionately in his car was nothing more than a common little waitress? And yet, if she stopped to think about it, could she blame him? Just one glance at the women here who were hanging onto his every word showed that he usually mixed with supermodels and glossy heiresses. How shocked he must have been to have discovered who she really was!
By nine, most of the guests had left and Zara helped carry the last of the dirty dishes down to the kitchen.
The catering tonight had been especially lavish and the clearing up seemed to take much longer than usualand yet she willed for it never to end. Surely Nikolai Komarov had something better to do than to hang around waiting for her to finish work? She went outside for one last check that everything was tidy to find the garden deserted and she gave a sigh of relief.
She had just retrieved a champagne glass from one of the flowerbeds and was heading back into the house when she saw Nikolai walking out onto the terrace and Zaras footsteps faltered to a halt. Had he seen her? He had removed his jacket to reveal a soft shirt of snowy silk and the top two buttons of the shirt were unbuttoned, revealing an enticing V of bare fleshbut the casual look made him no less formidable.
She felt her mouth drying as she stared up at the sensual curve of his lips and the icy gleam of his eyes. Yes, he had seen her.
So who exactly are you? he questioned as his footsteps brought him to a halt in front of her.
You know who I am. I told you. Zara Evans.
Net. Impatiently, he shook his head and gave an imperious wave of his hand, as if he were swatting away some imaginary fly. Your name may or may not have changedbut you certainly have done. His gaze flicked to the sturdy black shoes she wore with her uniform. Youll agree that you represent a rather dramatic fall from gracefrom riches to rags within days?
No. There are no riches. The rags are the real me. She bit her lipas if suddenly becoming aware of the huge disparity between their two lives and the risk she had taken in pretending that she was his equal. How stupid could she have been? Im really a waitress.
As I was to discover for myself.
How? How did you find out?
Cynically, Nikolais mouth hardened. Didnt she realise that there wasnt any information in the world which was off-limits if you had the money to pay someone to play detective? Tracking down a waitress had been childs play.
That part was easyyou can find anyone you want if you have the means, he drawled. But what I really want to know is why you were masquerading as a guest at the ambassadors party. Why you played that erotic hide-and-seek which had me following you like a puppy-dog. And he had fallen right into it, hadnt he? Lids half hooding his eyes, he watched closely for her reaction. Was she a celebrity stalker? he wondered. One of those women who fixed a wealthy man in their sights and pursued him? What did she want from him? Were you deliberately targeting me?
Zaras heart gave a guilty lurch. Would it sound stupid if she told him that, yes, she had been looking out for him, but that the motive had been nothing but an innocent bit of advertising? And then things had all got out of handwhen she had seen him and danced with him and that sizzling chemistry had combusted between them. Would he believe her or think that she was lying? Think that she put out like that all the time? Play for time, she told herself. Find out the kind of man youre dealing with. Why should I want to target you?
Please dont be disingenuous, he warned, and as he saw the rise in colour to her cheeks he knew she was hiding something. Powerful men are subjected to all kinds of come-ons from womensome cleverer than others. Usually I can see through them, but your approach was novel. And sexy, he conceded. She had made him chase her. For once, hed felt the thrill of the hunt, the blood pumping hotly through his veins as hed followed the silken curves of her bottom.
His reaction had taken him aback. It had been a primitive, subliminal response and it had been inordinately compelling. Why, hadnt the thought of finding her again filled him with a heady kind of anticipationuntil he had discovered her true identity and suspected that he might be the victim of some kind of crude scam? I want the truth, he snapped. Or is that too big an ask?
Zara saw the glitter of danger which was hardening his eyes and realised that she was doing herself no favours by being evasive.
Okay. I had no right to be at the partyat least, not as a guest, she admitted. I gatecrashed itthough I knew most of the waitresses, obviously, since I work with them most of the time. I was modelling the dress for a friend of mine, Emma. Her mother owns the catering agency I work for. Thats how she knew who was going to be on the guest-list.
His expression didnt alter. Go on.
Emmas a fashion studentand shes very ambitious.
He frowned. A fashion student?
Thats right. Shes good at designing evening gowns and she wanted a bit of exposure.
Exposure being the operative word, he drawled. You certainly left very little to the imagination.
Something in his tone brought another rush of colour to Zaras cheeks. The dress I was wearing was no more revealing than plenty of others there.
But no other woman in the room had possessed her firm and slinky young body, Nikolai remembered with a sudden ache. Whatever it was she had, it had appealed to him on a very fundamental level. It still did. Even the drab knee-length skirt and innocuous white blouse she was wearing tonight were doing dangerous things to his blood pressure. Remember that shes nothing but a fraud, he told himself. And that all women are frauds.
So what exactly was your brief? he demanded.
I was supposed to give you one of her business cards.
Hoping that Id play fairy godfather and give her the big break she deserved? he questioned sarcastically.
Something like that.
But you didnt, did you? he said thoughtfully. So what happened, Zara? Did you decide to jettison that idea when something better came along? Did you think that by capitalising on the undoubted chemistry between us you could aim even higher than a mere marketing opportunity? He raised his eyebrows in a mocking question. Maybe you thought that if you could get your claws into me, then you might benefit far more than just getting a cut from the sale of your friends clothes?
.
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