“Once,” he acknowledged reluctantly.
Lindsay’s eyes narrowed. “Did you send them to me, too?”
His jaw tightened. “No.”
“Oh.”
“What do you mean ‘them’?” Mikhail prompted sharply as he sat forward in the armchair. “Have you received more than the one this evening?”
Lindsay realized he couldn’t have known about the dozen roses from the previous evening because she hadn’t allowed him inside her apartment building yesterday.
He shouldn’t be here now either, but she was glad that he was…
She really was becoming totally unnerved by the gift of these black roses, had no idea who could be giving them to her. To her they appeared malignant, evil, and as black as death.
“Last night.” She nodded. “A dozen of them.” She recalled with another shudder. She had taken them downstairs and put them straight in the trash, too.
“And you don’t have any idea who could be sending them?”
“None.”
“Your ex-boyfriend, maybe?” Mikhail’s expression darkened as he thought of the younger man. “Does he have a key to your apartment—”
“No, he doesn’t. And he never has,” she added as she seemed to guess what his next question would be.
Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “Were the two of you lovers?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business—”
Mikhail was making it his business. He wanted to know everything about this woman. Everything. And that included knowing if the ex-boyfriend had been her lover.
“Humor me, hmm?” he encouraged gruffly.
She gave him an irritated frowned. “I think you’re missing the point here, Mikhail.”
Knowing who Lindsay’s past lovers had been was the point to him right now. “Which is?”
“How did someone get into the building to deliver the roses in the first place?”
Mikhail had thought yesterday that the lock on the front door was flimsy at best, and he had been even less impressed earlier when that lock wobbled slightly when he turned the key in it. But it was still a lock, meant to keep people out of the building.
His eyes narrowed. “Your ex-boyfriend was waiting for you when you came home—”
“Look, could we just leave Roger out of this?” she spoke through gritted teeth.
Mikhail would have been pleased if the other man hadn’t been in Lindsay’s life at all. But as he had… “He seems the more obvious culprit, don’t you think?”
Lindsay really didn’t know what to think about the roses that were appearing so mysteriously outside her apartment.
But she did know how she felt about them.
“Maybe one of the other tenants?” Mikhail prompted. “A secret admirer from the communal laundry room?”
She gave a roll of her eyes at his levity. “There is no communal laundry room. And the ten apartments are occupied by two elderly ladies who live alone, one elderly man, four couples—you saw a man from one of those couples leaving earlier—and me.”
“Maybe the elderly man has a crush on you?” Mikhail grimaced as she narrowed her gaze at him. “I’m just trying to lighten the subject.”
“You failed,” Lindsay assured him dryly.
Could she possibly have a secret admirer, someone who believed she would like and appreciate the gift of the exotic and no doubt expensive blooms?
Or did the choice of black roses have a darker meaning?
Maybe Roger’s secretary sending them?
After all, Lindsay had caught her and Roger in a humiliating and embarrassing situation. Maybe the other woman actually cared for Roger? Despite the fact that Lindsay had immediately ended their relationship after finding the couple together, the other woman may still see Lindsay as a rival; Roger had tried to persuade Lindsay into taking him back this evening. Which would seem to imply he wasn’t serious in his intentions towards the other woman?
Yes, Roger’s secretary was definitely a possible candidate. She probably knew Lindsay’s address too, no doubt was responsible for organizing the delivery of the red roses Roger sent Lindsay on their three-month anniversary—just days before Lindsay had walked in and caught the two of them!
Mikhail may have been making light of the situation to Lindsay, but in truth he wasn’t happy about it either. He especially didn’t like the fact that it sounded as if someone was breaking into the building in order to deliver the roses to Lindsay’s door.
He gave a shake of his head. “Until you know who the roses are from, I’m not sure you should stay here…”
Lindsay gave him a mocking glance. “And where else would you suggest I go?”
“Do you have family you could stay with? Friends?”
“No family,” she dismissed evenly. “Lots of friends, but until I know what these roses signify, I’m not inflicting my company on any of them either!”
Lindsay had no family.
Just like Mikhail.
Except his grandfather, of course, but the less said about him the better!
Mikhail hadn’t even known of or met Viktor Romanov, his mother’s father, until after his mother died. There had been a long-standing rift between father and daughter, and his mother had told him that Viktor disapproved of the man Natalya had married. From the little Mikhail knew of his father, that disapproval was merited: Natalya had been three months pregnant with Mikhail when the couple married, and eight months pregnant when Andrei left her a widow.
The first time Mikhail met Viktor had been when he arrived in England to attend his daughter’s funeral—proof that he had kept himself informed of Natalya and Mikhail’s lives, even if he hadn’t been a part of them—and shortly thereafter he’d persuaded Mikhail to at least allow him to show him the life he could have in Russia as Viktor’s grandson.
Mikhail knew the media explained his two-year absence from England after his graduation as a backpacking journey around the world, but in fact the truth was he’d spent some of that time in Russia.
Learning exactly who Viktor Romanov was.
Is, Mikhail reminded himself grimly.
As a result, he had chosen to walk away from Viktor and Russia. As Mikhail’s mother had done before him.
Mikhail’s mouth thinned as he determinedly dismissed those disturbing memories. They had no place here and now with Lindsay. “You could always stay with me at my apartment?”
Mischa gave an approving growl.
At the thought of having Lindsay in his apartment, if only for a few days.
And nights.
Most especially the nights.
If he could persuade Lindsay into agreeing.
Later, he would call Gerald and have him look into who was sending Lindsay black roses. There really weren’t that many florists who stocked them—and he should know!—so it couldn’t be that difficult to find who had bought at least thirteen black roses in the past two days. A reputable florist wouldn’t want to reveal that sort of information, of course, but the Lysenko name and the wealth that went with it, were usually enough of a reason to persuade people into telling him what he wanted to know.
In the same way the Romanov name evoked the same result, but usually out of fear…
Chapter Six
LINDSAY STARED AT Mikhail, eyes wide.
Had he really just invited her to stay with him at his apartment?
He couldn’t be serious.
Could he…?
“Or I could stay here with you,” Mikhail added quietly—purposefully—as he slowly rose to his feet.
Lindsay wasn’t sure how, but she had forgotten these past few minutes—put it down to stress at receiving another black rose!—just how imposing Mikhail was. How damned sexy he was.
But she was only too aware of his height and breadth now, of the sexual vibes coming off him in overwhelming waves as he seemed to dwarf and claim the room.
And her?
Dear God, she was tempted by his offer. More than tempted.
/> But she couldn’t, daren’t accept, knew what would happen if she did, and that once she had given herself to this overwhelming man she would lose all sense of herself, of who she was, and what she wanted for her life.
At least at this moment she was capable of knowing it wasn’t to have her heart broken by Mikhail Lysenko.
Lindsay moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue—only to regret it instantly as that piercing blue gaze followed the movement. “I don’t think either of those suggestions is acceptable…” she refused huskily.
“Why not?” he came back just as gruffly, that compelling gaze holding her captive now.
It was there again, she realized. The desire, the hunger to possess that had almost overwhelmed her yesterday. That never seemed to be far from the surface whenever the two of them were together.
Confirming she had been wrong about Mikhail and his motives for kissing her yesterday?
She wasn’t willing to go quite that far, not after the trouble that single kiss had caused her today!
Which didn’t stop her from knowing exactly what would happen if she stayed anywhere with Mikhail. The promise of it was there now, in his eyes, and in the rising tension of his body. If she was willing to give, then he would take and keep on taking, no questions asked, and no promises given.
If she was willing to give.
It took every effort of will Lindsay possessed to turn away from that mesmerizing gaze. “Let’s not get carried away here, Mikhail,” she dismissed lightly. “I know how I reacted earlier, but they are just roses, after all.”
“Anonymously sent,” he reminded harshly. “Plus it looks as if someone broke into your apartment building to deliver them.”
Lindsay gave another shiver of revulsion at the thought of someone violating her space in this way.
She had already considered Roger’s secretary as maybe being responsible, but what if Mikhail was right, and it had been Roger himself?
She had vehemently denied the possibility earlier, but inwardly she didn’t feel quite as confident as she sounded. She hadn’t expected to ever see Roger again, let alone find him waiting for her when she came home from work, his intention to try and persuade her into going back to him.
Maybe the roses last night had been meant as a precursor to that persuasion? And the rose tonight was there ready and waiting to present to her when she invited him up to her apartment, so they could celebrate being back together?
The self-centered and petulant Roger of earlier seemed more than capable of such warped thinking.
Not that Lindsay intended on sharing that opinion with Mikhail. He was more than capable of finding and confronting the other man if he decided to do so.
No, she had to concentrate on what Mikhail was doing here, not on Roger, or who was sending what she considered to be ugly roses.
She raised her chin. “Why did you withdraw from the deal with Barbour Industries?”
“Why did you withdraw as Barbour’s lawyer?” he came back hardly.
Lindsay closed her eyes briefly. Yes, she had done that: after David Barbour’s visit this morning she’d had no choice. She’d gone up to see Peter Haskell, and explained the conflict of interest that had developed between herself and Mikhail Lysenko. A conflict of interest that may be responsible for his having now withdrawn his offer for David Barbour’s company.
Peter Haskell was aged in his late fifties, a man who wasn’t known for screaming and shouting, but Lindsay had sensed his displeasure anyway. Although he chose his words carefully when he reprimanded her. No doubt due to who Mikhail Lysenko was, and the older man’s uncertainty as to the other man’s interest in her—he could get in line in regards to that!—rather than any genuine feelings of leniency towards Lindsay.
She had no doubt she had seriously damaged her career with her confession.
As far as Lindsay was concerned she hadn’t had a choice. “It was the right thing to do—”
“It was a stupid thing to do,” Mikhail told her brusquely.
She gave a wry smile. “Thank you!”
He gave an irritated shake of his head. “You jeopardized your career for nothing.”
“Peter Haskell has obviously called and spoken to you personally?”
“About an hour ago, yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
She gave a pained frowned. “You aren’t going to resume negotiations?”
“No intentions of, no.”
“Why not?”
The question had a multilayered answer for Mikhail.
Yes, he had originally thought Barbour Industries was a viable buyout, but the longer negotiations went on, the less and less he liked and trusted the owner of the company.
On the surface David Barbour was all about his workers, but underneath that lay something else entirely. Greed. Personal, avaricious greed, with reasonable terms for those workers merely being used as a prop, a front to David Barbour’s constant demands for more. More money for him mainly. The man was duplicitous, and, as such, Mikhail no longer trusted him.
He also hadn’t liked the way the other man looked at Lindsay from that very first meeting. As he had sensed David Barbour was aware of his own interest in Lindsay, especially so after finding Mikhail at Lindsay’s office yesterday. Mikhail had no doubts that the other man was quite capable of exploiting and using that interest for his own benefit, if he so chose.
Barbour Industries was just another takeover to Mikhail. No more, no less. And he never allowed business deals to become personal.
“Exactly what happened after I withdrew my offer?” he demanded, eyes narrowed.
“Exactly what you imagine might happen, I suspect.” Lindsay gave him a self-derisive smile. “David Barbour came to my office and accused me of… Well he added two and two together—your visit to my office yesterday morning, along with the withdrawal of your offer today—and decided I was obviously to blame. I called your lawyer, but he made it obvious negotiations would not be resumed. I had no choice after that but to go to Peter Haskell and tell him what had occurred over the past two days.”
“That was very brave and very stupid of you.”
“And obviously a complete waste of my time.” Lindsay sighed.
She had tried so hard to put things right, and instead she’d only succeeded in making it worse. For herself. On top of that, she’d received a verbal reprimand earlier today. She was sure she would hear more on the subject tomorrow, now that Peter Haskell had actually spoken to Mikhail and knew the other man refused to budge in regard to resuming the negotiations to purchase Barbour Industries.
Very brave and very stupid sounded exactly what she’d been.
“You should have called me, Lindsay.”
Mikhail had moved while she was lost in thought, and now stood just in front of her. Hard. Hot. Dangerous.
He had removed his jacket and tie while she was downstairs disposing of the rose. His pale cream shirt was unfastened at his throat and the sleeves turned back to just beneath his elbows, and a perfect foil for that deliciously dark skin and the sprinkling of dark hair she could see at the top of that hard and muscled chest.
One of his hands now moved up to cup the side of face, the soft pad of his thumb a slow and sensual caress across the fullness of her bottom lip.
“And say what?” Lindsay breathed softly, all of her senses alert to his closeness. Sight—yum. Smell—hmm. Touch—oh God! The gravelly sound of his voice that made her knees go weak. Taste… A sweep of her tongue across her lips now allowed Lindsay to taste the slight saltiness left by the caress of his thumb.
“If you had asked me to reconsider resuming the negotiations I might have thought about it,” Mikhail answered her softly.
Lindsay blinked up at him. “Why?”
A slow smile curved those chiseled lips. “Guess?”
She was afraid to. Afraid she was going to make an even bigger mistake with this man than the one she made in regard to Roger.
> Worse, that she was going to make a fool of herself.
She had already misjudged this man’s motives once, she didn’t intend doing it a second time.
But Mikhail was here. Again. And he was standing so very close to her. Again. Touching her. Again. Caressing her. Again. And with that hungry look on his face that said he wanted to do more than touch her. Again.
She wasn’t mistaken about any of that.
And she was no longer David Barbour’s lawyer.
No conflict of interest.
No barriers of any kind.
Mikhail studied her through narrowed lids. “Still think I’m trying to seduce you for mercenary reasons?”
No barriers at all—except caution, common sense, and the fear of having her heart broken!
Mikhail was as forceful as a hurricane, could sweep her off her feet and directly into the eye of the storm with just a single touch.
He was also obscenely wealthy, used to having own way, and in no hurry to change his playboy status—why bother settling for one chocolate in the box when you could have them all!
Lindsay, on the other hand, was barely managing to support herself on her meager wages; settled for working and saving for what she wanted, and she’d never had a completely sexual relationship in her life.
She’d only ever had two lovers, one at university in a relationship that lasted a year, and the second one at the law firm she’d worked at before Haskell, Haskell, and Palmer. A relationship that lasted six months and ended the day after that one and only disastrous night together, when she had realized Kevin was only using her as a front to the fact he was gay. The two of them had remained friends, but never again attempted to be lovers.
As for Roger…
Something had held Lindsay back from taking their relationship to that next step—and in retrospect it had obviously been the right decision.
In sharp contrast to any of those relationships, Mikhail just ignored the first, second, and third steps—getting to know each other, going out on a first date, dating some more—and went straight to the fourth one—going to bed together!
And he was trying to take Lindsay right along with him.
She drew in a shallow breath before answering him. “I still believe half of that at least.”
Pursued by the Devil Page 5