The Millionaire Affair. Sophie Weston

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The Millionaire Affair - Sophie  Weston


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said grudgingly, ‘I could go up through the garden and see if she’s there.’

      He nodded. ‘Yes, that’s an idea. All right.’

      “‘Thank you very much, Miss Romaine”,’ Lisa muttered.

      He did not appear to hear.

      Lisa thumped her way bad-temperedly down the stairs. She was sure nothing had happened to Tatiana. She had met her in the hall last night, off to attend a ballet recital, looking stupendously glamorous and about half her age. She had probably just gone out to avoid this pestilential stranger. What was more, Lisa didn’t blame her.

      She turned round to shout as much up to him, and found he was close on her heels.

      ‘Oh,’ she exclaimed, swaying backwards in shock.

      He caught the lapels of her coat and steadied her.

      And that was another shock. The backs of his fingers brushed against the softness of her upper breasts. It was only a touch, but it felt as if he had branded her. Lisa heard her own intake of breath. In the narrow space of the staircase it sounded as loud as a warning siren.

      ‘Whoa,’ she said, shaken.

      Nikolai was shaken too. But his control was better than hers. And his recovery time was not affected by a series of late nights.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he said, his expression enigmatic.

      ‘You startled me,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t expect you to come with me.’

      ‘I could hardly leave you to climb into Tatiana’s on your own.’

      ‘Climb in?’ said Lisa, startled.

      ‘If necessary.’

      She glared at him for a frustrated moment. Then shrugged and led the way downstairs.

      Her small kitchen diner stretched the width of the house. Tall French windows gave on to the garden. Lisa waved a hand at them.

      ‘Help yourself. Security key’s on the table. I’ll get some clothes on.’

      He acknowledged that with the merest flicker of the opaque brown eyes. But Lisa could sense his amusement as if he had laughed out loud. Suddenly she realised what it must be like to blush. She whisked into her bedroom and closed the door between them with a decisive bang.

      She returned in three minutes, in grubby jeans and a cropped shirt. She had stuffed her feet into deck shoes and tied a scarf round her hair, but she hadn’t done anything about the ravages of last night’s make-up. To tell the truth, Lisa had forgotten it. But to the man awaiting her it looked like a deliberate statement that she didn’t care how he saw her.

      Once again he felt that unexpected, unwanted kick of interest. Crazy, he told himself.

      ‘Well?’ said Lisa.

      He had opened her French windows. An ironwork spiral staircase went up from the garden to Tatiana’s balcony. There was a tray of seedlings and a watering can on the stair. He indicated them with a gesture.

      ‘Well, if she’s in the garden, of course she didn’t hear us,’ said Lisa, disgusted. She thought about what she had just said. She didn’t like the way she had coupled them together like that. ‘You,’ she corrected herself. ‘Of course she didn’t hear you.’ She raised her voice to the volume that could cut through the buzz of a hundred-man dealing room. ‘Tatiana! Where are you?’

      Nikolai winced. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to go and look? It is Sunday morning, after all. Some people are probably still sleeping. Or—’

      Or in bed making love. He did not say it. But Lisa’s eyes flew to his in shocked and instant comprehension.

      And this time she did blush. She couldn’t help it. Disbelieving, she pressed her hands to her face and felt the heat there. She could never remember blushing in her life before.

      And the man laughed. He looked her up and down with those cat’s eyes, suddenly lazily appreciative, and he laughed.

      ‘Oh, find her yourself,’ snarled Lisa.

      She whipped back into her flat and banged the door.

      CHAPTER TWO

      NIKOLAI cornered his aunt under a silver birch and came swiftly to the point.

      ‘Who is she?’

      Tatiana looked at her great-nephew in surprise. Nikolai could be very irritating. But he was usually much too laid-back to lose his temper in her experience. Now he was looking positively grim.

      ‘You sound just like your Uncle Dmitri. In fact in that ridiculous suit you even look like him.’

      They both knew it was not a compliment. Dmitri Ivanov was a merchant banker in New York. Tatiana thought Dmitri was a pompous ass and frequently said so at family reunions.

      Nikolai waved the irrelevance aside impatiently.

      ‘Who is she?’

      Tatiana sighed and put down her trowel. She had been enjoying her gardening. ‘Who is who?’

      ‘The fierce person in the basement.’

      In the middle of stripping off her gloves, Tatiana stopped, arrested. ‘Lisa? My tenant Lisa? She’s not fierce.’

      Nikolai grimaced. ‘She is if you get her out of bed before she’s ready,’ he said with feeling. ‘She nearly bit my head off.’

      ‘Oh?’

      Tatiana stared into the middle distance, suddenly thoughtful.

      ‘So where did she come from?’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘Lisa Whatever-her-name-is,’ Nikolai said impatiently. ‘Where did you find her?’

      Tatiana remained distracted. ‘Oh, around,’ she said vaguely.

      Nikolai curbed his irritation. Tatiana, he reminded himself, was old and eccentric, and probably worried about money.

      So he said carefully, ‘Why this sudden urge to become a landlady again?’

      She shrugged. ‘I’ve always let out rooms when I needed to.’

      ‘But the point is,’ said Nikolai patiently, ‘you don’t need to. I went through the figures last year and I saw your accountant again a couple of days ago. You don’t need to do this. You can pay your way easily.’

      Tatiana sniffed. Since she had given Pauli carte blanche to manage her affairs more than forty years ago, she could hardly claim that this was high-handed. But she could and did say that her decision was nothing to do with Nikolai.

      ‘I like Lisa. I wanted her to have the flat.’

      Nikolai looked at her narrowly. ‘Is running the house getting too much for you?’

      ‘No, of course not,’ said Tatiana impatiently. ‘I have a cleaner twice a week. What more do I need?’

      ‘You are lonely, then?’

      ‘I do too much to be lonely.’

      ‘Then why—?’

      Tatiana folded her lips together stubbornly. ‘I told you. I like her. She needed somewhere to live and I—’

      He pounced on it. ‘Needed. Aha. She is a vagrant. From what I saw this morning, I can well believe it.’

      ‘Oh, Nicki, don’t be pompous. Of course she’s not a vagrant.’

      ‘What do you know about her? Have you taken any references?’

      ‘No, but—’

      ‘I knew it. She is exploiting you.’

      ‘Nikolai, will you listen to me? She has a perfectly good job.’


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