The Power of Vasilii. PENNY JORDAN

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The Power of Vasilii - PENNY  JORDAN


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challenged him. All the ways? Vasilii tensed against the unwanted question. If he was aware of her as a woman then it was only because he needed to assess her so thoroughly. The last thing he wanted was a female PA who was going to create sexual havoc everywhere she went.

      From his own experience? What did he mean?

      Laura intended to find out. ‘What experience?’ she demanded angrily. ‘This is the first time we have met.’

      ‘In person, perhaps, but I am well aware of the way you behaved when your aunt—who was employed by me to provide my sister with female company here in London—requested you to stand in for her, when she was taken to the hospital. When my sister telephoned you to pass on your aunt’s request you decided to go to New York with friends instead—even though you must have known that your aunt was depending on you. In my opinion a person who does not fulfil their obligations to their family is not likely to fulfil those same obligations to an employer.’

      Laura’s head was a whirlwind of stunned thoughts. This was the first she had heard about any of this. The last thing she would ever do was let her aunt down, and her first instinct was to say as much. But even as she opened her mouth to tell him that she had never at any time received a telephone call from his sister, never mind refused to help her aunt because she preferred to go to New York with friends, she remembered once listening to Alena as a schoolgirl, complaining to her aunt when she had come to the matron’s room to ask for a headache tablet that her half-brother was very strict with her, and had advised her parents against allowing her to spend the weekend with another pupil.

      ‘Just because he doesn’t approve of her brother,’ Alena had protested.

      Whilst Laura had sympathised with her, a small part of her had envied her for having such a protective brother—but then, of course, in those days Vasilii could do no wrong as far as she had been concerned. Now, though, she was old enough to think that Alena might have had her own reasons for lying to Vasilii, and a certain sisterly solidarity was making her feel that she didn’t want to betray the other girl—even if that solidarity came at the cost of being misjudged.

      After all, what was the point in trying to defend herself when it was plain that he wanted to think the worst of her? Immoral and unreliable—that was what he thought of her.

      Surely that wasn’t a sharp stab of pain she felt? Why on earth should the biased opinion of a man so condemnatory and arrogant that she already thoroughly disliked him cause her to feel pain? It wasn’t pain—it was misery at the thought of not getting the job she needed so much, Laura assured herself.

      ‘Nothing to say?’ Vasilii challenged her.

      ‘What would be the point?’ Laura asked. ‘Since you have obviously already made up your mind about me.’

      She wasn’t going to let him see just how desperately it mattered that she wasn’t going to get the job. Lifting her chin she told him coolly, ‘I don’t see that there is any point in us wasting any more of one another’s time. Obviously you don’t want me to be your PA.’

      ‘No, I don’t,’ Vasilii agreed curtly, and paused before adding reluctantly, ‘However, unfortunately—given the excellence of your CV in respect of your language and negotiating skills, the inability of any headhunter to find me a candidate to better them, and the immediacy of my need to find a new PA—I have decided on this occasion I have no alternative other than to put to one side my scruples and offer you a temporary contract to cover the next six months. If at the end of that time my negotiations with the Chinese have been concluded to my satisfaction, then in addition to your salary there will be a generous bonus payment.’

      Oh, how she longed to be in a position to turn down his offer, Laura thought helplessly. But of course she couldn’t. She could tell from his voice how much he resented having to offer her the job. He hadn’t let her know that out of weakness or vulnerability. No, he had told her because he wanted her to know just how much contempt he had for her. If she had felt hard done by before, at being falsely accused and then used as a scapegoat for Nancy’s unfounded jealousy, that was nothing to the raw, bitter taste of misery she was being forced to swallow down now. She wasn’t going to let him think she was grateful, though.

      Lifting her chin, she told Vasilii as valiantly as she could, ‘Unfortunately for me I have no option other than to accept your offer. But that does not mean that I want to accept it, or that I want to work for you. I don’t.’

      Their mutual antagonism crackled hostilely on the air between them.

      ‘And just to make things crystal-clear to you,’ Vasilii continued, ‘whatever your modus operandi or your personal agenda might have been in your previous post, in this one as my PA our relationship will be strictly business. Any woman who thinks that working for me is a shortcut to my bed and via that to a marriage licence will be making a big mistake.’

      His bed? For a moment Laura was gripped by panic—had he somehow with some dangerous power managed to learn about her teenage crush? A thousand bolts of searing self-consciousness burned through her. But then her common sense returned. Of course he didn’t know. No one had ever known. Not even her aunt. Even so, she wanted to make it clear to him that she wasn’t someone who would run after a man—any man, but especially not him.

      ‘Both you and your bed are perfectly safe from me,’ she assured him. Unable to stop herself from giving way to her emotions, she couldn’t resist adding fiercely, ‘You obviously think that you’re a wonderful catch, but I certainly don’t. If and when I ever marry it will be because I love the man I am marrying and because he loves me in return—because we both want to make a lifetime commitment to be there for one another.’

      ‘A lifetime commitment? No one can or should promise that.’

      There was so much anger in his voice—and something else as well that Laura couldn’t quite analyse.

      As he spoke Vasilii had put down the papers he was holding and had taken a step towards her before he’d even realised what he was doing, never mind understood the reason he was doing it. The experience of letting a woman’s jibes cut under his skin—a woman he thoroughly despised and distrusted at that—was so unknown to him that it took him several seconds and several strides in Laura’s direction before he could bring his reactions, both physical and emotional, under control.

      Even more damaging to his pride was the look of shocked, almost horrified revulsion on Laura’s face as she stepped back from him. She was actually raising her hands, palm open, as though to fend him off—as though she was revolted by the thought that he might be going to touch her.

      How dared she try to claim the moral high ground? How dared she think she needed to defend herself from his touch after the way he had just warned her off?

      Vasilii had a formidable sense of pride, and Laura Westcotte’s reaction had virtually flayed it to ribbons. No woman had ever, ever reacted to him like that. To Vasilii’s angry disbelief, the fact that it should be this woman of all women who was rejecting him so obviously, and with such open revulsion, set alight inside him a savage male desire to show her exactly how easily he could punish her for that outrage by making her want him.

      The surge of furious and instinctive need for supremacy threatened to slice through all the bindings of modern-day life, convention and even the strict limits he imposed on his own behaviour with such speed that inside his head he was already reaching for her. Reaching for her and holding her, sliding his hands into the lustrous silky warmth of her smooth hair and feeling it glide sensually through his fingers, its tendrils wrapping around them as he bound her to him, a willing captive to the possession of his kiss. Beneath his her lips would part softly and eagerly, clinging to the domination of his. Her head would tilt back to reveal the vulnerable arch of her throat, her skin as soft as the wing of a white dove at his mother’s people’s oases. And, as with the powerful life-giving water of those oases, he would be able to slake his own thirst and quench his pride’s need for vengeance in the soft sounds of pleasure she would make beneath the sensual punishment of a kiss that would teach her beyond all doubt that she wanted him. He would hear her sigh and sob that wanting beneath


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