The Russian Rivals: The Most Coveted Prize / The Power of Vasilii. PENNY JORDAN
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that had as much reality to it as a rainbow over the Neva?
She had no need to ask herself what Vasilii would think of her present behaviour. He would be horrified and angry. But he was not going to know about it, was he? Because she was going to be very sensible and responsible and not have anything more to do with Kiryl. She was going to focus instead on the future she had been working so hard towards and prove to her brother that she was mature enough to take on her late mother’s role within the charity.
Two hours later, stepping out of her taxi outside the office block that housed the offices of her mother’s charity, Alena paused to smooth down the soft grey cashmere of her smart single-breasted coat and take a deep breath. Appearances counted for an awful lot, her mother had always said. Deals could be brokered as broken in the judgement passed on the impression one conveyed—before a word had been spoken. Alena had remembered her mother’s sage advice this morning when she had dressed for this appointment. It might eventually be her right and inheritance to take over the running of the charity, but she could not do that successfully without the support of the executives who worked for it. She needed to win their support and their confidence if she was going to be able to continue to grow the success of her mother’s charity. For that reason she had tried to dress in a way that, whilst showing something of her own individuality, conveyed maturity.
She had chosen to wear medium-height black shoes with opaque winter tights rather than high-heeled knee-length boots. Boots might be sensible in cold weather, but there were boots and boots—and she certainly did not want to be judged as an attention-seeking fashion plate. To ward off the sharp February wind she’d wrapped a darker grey woollen scarf round her neck and pulled a matching knitted hat on over her hair. A pair of fingerless grey gloves allowed her to pay her taxi fare, and her smile for the doorman who opened the glass doors to the office block for her earned her an answering smile of appreciation.
Initially, when she’d first set up the charity, her mother had wanted to locate its head office in London because it was her home city. But she’d wanted it to be in a far more modest and inexpensive place than its current Mayfair location. It had been her father and halfbrother who had persuaded her mother to accept that if the charity was to attract donors then a more prestigious location would give it gravitas. Besides which Vasilii had added a properly secured office block so it would be far safer.
Safety was important to Vasilii. But that was not surprising, given that his own mother had been the victim of a kidnap plot that had gone wrong, and which had resulted in her death. It had been after that that Vasilii’s father had relocated his business and his home to London, although it had been in St Petersburg in Russia where her parents had met. Her father had had high moral standards, both in his business and his private life. The death of both parents in a car accident had been a terrible shock and a terrible loss, but thankfully she had always had Vasilii.
It had been wrong of her to allow herself to be taken over by what she was now beginning to think of as a form of madness in her unfamiliar desire for Kiryl, and she was glad that she had decided to put the whole incident behind her—to focus on what was really important in her life, Alena told herself as she stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the tenth floor.
The work of Alena’s mother’s charity involved helping girls in poverty all over the world. A multicultural staff worked for the charity, and its South American CEO, Dolores Alvarez, had known poverty in her childhood herself. She was now in her fifties, and the lines on her face told of her compassion and her life experience.
She welcomed Alena with a warm smile as she showed her into her office, and ordered coffee for both of them, telling her, ‘We’ve had a lovely surprise this morning. You’ll know that one of your late mother’s goals for our charity was to bring in more outside donors, and that we’ve been running a campaign to that effect?’
Alena nodded her head. ‘Yes, I know how important my father and mother believed it was that we should broaden the scope of the charity.’
‘After the death of your parents we did receive some very generous donations from their colleagues and friends, but they were one off payments. However, we have now had an approach from a potential donor which sounds very promising. Before making up his mind he has stated that he wants to meet you.’
Their coffee had arrived, and after thanking the smartly dressed young male PA who had brought it Alena asked the CEO, ‘Is it because he wants to know if I am capable of heading the charity successfully?’ She gave Dolores a wry look and told her, ‘It’s exactly the kind of thing Vasilii would do.’
‘Rich men like to be in complete control of their wealth. It seems to go with their mindset and the drive that has made them rich in the first place.’
‘Control freaks?’ Alena said ruefully.
Dolores smiled, but gave a small shake of her head. ‘Maybe, but we can’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth, or …’
‘Frighten it away?’ Alena suggested.
‘No. Not if we’re to succeed in achieving the most ambitious of your late mother’s plans. The money she left in trust for the charity brings in a good income, but …’
‘But we need more money. Yes, I know. I’ve been studying our financial statements, and the rise in the cost of living in some of the countries where we are most active has meant that the cost of providing schooling for the poorest in those countries is rising.’
The CEO gave her an approving look that Alena suspected was also tinged with surprise, before agreeing.
‘That is true, yes. Which means that it is important to find every new donor we can. From what this one has said to me he is considering making a very generous on-going annual donation to our cause, once he has satisfied himself as to …’
‘As to what?’ Alena pressed.
Dolores looked slightly uncomfortable.
‘Tell me,’ Alena insisted. ‘I have a right to know.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Dolores hesitated again, and then told her, ‘He has expressed some reservations about the fact that someone so youthful and … and untried will ultimately be in charge of the charity. Because of that he has expressed this wish to meet you personally.’
‘To assess my suitability to step into my mother’s shoes?’ Alena guessed.
‘To reassure himself that he is making the right decision,’ Dolores corrected her diplomatically. ‘Of course if you prefer not to do so then I am sure we could make a tactful excuse—perhaps tell him that you would prefer your brother to deal with the situation?’
Alena weighed up what Dolores had told her. If she met this potential donor and he didn’t think her capable of stepping into her mother’s shoes then she risked losing his support for the charity. It might be safer for her to allow Vasilii to meet him instead. But if she did that how was she ever going to be able to convince Vasilii that she was mature enough to take on her mother’s role? And, just as important, how was she ever going to feel confident about her ability to do that herself?
She took a deep breath.
‘If this prospective donor wishes to meet me, then it is only fair that he does.’
She could see from the CEO’s approving look that she had made the right decision.
‘If you could set up an appointment with him for me?’
‘That’s easily done,’ Dolores told her with a smile. ‘He is actually here now. When I told him that you were coming in this morning, and that I’d speak with you about seeing him, he announced that he would come here to meet you. I did try to put him off, but he insisted, I’m afraid.’
Just as Vasilii would have insisted in the same situation, Alena knew. Such behaviour might be considered by some to be unconventional, but in the world in which her brother moved those men who were the most successful often made their own rules and ignored convention.
‘Of course if you want