by Penny Jordan
‘Katinka told me that the private lift for the Empire Suite has been rejigged to stop at the floor where the rest of the Chinese delegation are staying. I wondered if you wanted me to have the same arrangement put in place for the lift for the Royal Suite, so you can also access their floor privately for informal meetings?’
‘Yes, that could come in useful,’ Vasilii agreed as they headed into the entrance hall of the Empire Suite.
Coming to an abrupt halt, he stared at the floral arrangements on the console tables either side of the hallway. Generally speaking Vasilii did not pay attention to floral arrangements. They were something that were just ‘there’. But these were something else. Something about them not only commanded his visual attention, it also struck an unfamiliar chord within him that made him want to go on looking at them. Just as when he looked at Laura herself he wanted to go on looking at her. That was ridiculous. If he looked at her then it was because, given her history, he merely wanted to keep a check on her.
‘Are these the arrangements that you designed and commissioned?’ he asked Laura.
Laura swallowed hard. She had no way of telling from Vasilii’s voice or manner what he thought of the flowers. Until he had spoken she had been feeling delighted with them. She still was, she decided. They were exactly what she had requested. Surely if she was to earn any respect from Vasilii as his PA then she had to prove to him that she was capable of making and then standing by her own judgements.
‘Yes,’ she told him.
The alarm ringing on Vasilii’s phone had him reaching for it and telling her, ‘We’ve got an hour before we’re due to meet and greet the Chinese. Can you assure me that everything else in the suite is in order? Or do I need to check for myself?’
‘It was in order when Katinka showed me round earlier, but as it will only take me half an hour to get changed I’d prefer to take another quick look now that I’m here—just to be on the safe side.’
A woman who put her duty to her work before her appearance? Very impressive. Except that she was probably saying that to impress him, Vasilii thought grimly, but he nodded his head and told her, ‘I’ll meet you at ten to six on the dot in the sitting room. Be there.’
And then he was gone, leaving her to make her tour of the suite as speedily as she could. As she had expected everything was just as it should be—even if she did now only have half an hour in which to get changed.
In the suite, and just on the point of stripping off his clothes in order to have a shower, Vasilii paused to check his phone. There was a message from the pilot of his private jet to say that a thorough search of the aircraft had not revealed the missing earring.
Vasilii put down the phone and started to unbutton his shirt—only to stop and retrieve his phone, thumbing through it until he found what he was looking for.
If his half-sister was surprised to be asked to commission on his behalf one of London’s most exclusive jewellers to make an earring identical to the one in the photo he had sent her, and quickly, she knew him too well to say so.
Vasilii, though, as he continued to undress, wasn’t entirely sure that he knew himself. He wasn’t accustomed to acting on impulse—and certainly not for such a cause. It must be because Laura Westcotte had said that the earrings had belonged to her mother. Vasilii knew what it meant to lose a mother—and how it felt.
Half an hour later, hurriedly getting changed herself, Laura gave a small cry of delight and relief when her missing earring fell out of one of the folds at the neck of her dress, where it had obviously become lodged when it had fallen off. Quickly she put it safely away with its twin in the small jewellery box she used when she was away from home. Semi-superstitiously she felt reluctant to wear them again now, having only just found it, just in case somehow that prompted a second loss.
That was silly, she knew, but the earrings meant so much to her, and she had felt not just upset but also guilty at having lost one—as though somehow she hadn’t taken enough care of them. Because she had feared she had lost it when all her attention had been on Vasilii and how he made her feel, and not on the fact that her earring had come loose. She had to stop thinking about Vasilii as a man and remember that he was her employer, Laura warned herself. She looked at her watch and then smoothed down the skirt of her suit. It was time for her to leave.
Vasilii was already in the suite’s sitting room when she walked in, checking his own watch even though she was five minutes ahead of the time he had stipulated. She suspected that the suit he was wearing must have been handmade to fit him so perfectly. Laura’s heart did a small drumroll of something she suspected was sheer female pleasure at the sight of a man who looked so very, very male in every single way. Vasilii was one of those men who did not need to wear the kind of clothing that showed off his muscles for a woman to know instinctively that they were there beneath the smart tailoring of his suit.
And in addition to that she already knew they existed, didn’t she? Thanks to that air turbulence. Laura could feel her hand curling into a self-betraying grip that mimicked the way she had clutched at Vasilii when she had fallen across him. It was amazing, really, how easily her memory could conjure up that moment—right down to the feel of the fabric of his shirt and beneath it the hard warmth of his flesh. Amazing? Or very dangerous?
Laura struggled to get her thoughts in order as Vasilii asked briskly, ‘Ready?’
What was that scent she used? It was so delicate and light that it compelled a man to move closer so that he could analyse properly what it was. Laura Westcotte was a very clever woman. She obviously knew that its very delicacy would draw men closer to her, unlike those women who chose a much stronger scent which he personally often found repelled him and caused him to step back.
The outfit she was wearing fitted her perfectly—but then he wouldn’t have expected anything else. Her measurements had been included in her dossier. Laura wore it elegantly as well, with a certain style that was her own. Her confidence, Vasilii recognised, was as subtle as her scent. And both could be dangerous to a man who became vulnerable to them. Possibly. But that man would never be him. A woman’s moral behaviour—her trustworthiness, her reliability, the way she conducted herself, the way she lived her life—that was what he judged those in his employ on.
‘It’s time to leave.’
Vasilii’s abrupt announcement had Laura nodding her head and turning towards the door. Her tummy was a seething mass of nervous tension, but she wasn’t going to let either him or the Chinese know that. This was her first proper test as Vasilii’s PA, and she was determined to see to it that she passed it with flying colours—even if those colours were begrudgingly given by the man who had made it clear that he would have preferred anyone but her to be his temporary assistant.
Several hours later, taking advantage of the pause between the final courses of the banquet they were being served, Laura did a quick visual check of the top table. Vasilii, of course, was sitting in the middle, in pole position, flanked by Wei Wong Zhang to his right, as guest of honour, and Laura herself seated on his left to act as his translator. Seated on the other side of Wei Wong was Gang Li, with Alexei, the owner of the hotel, seated next to him, whilst Wu Ying was on Laura’s other side, with the young woman who was her translator next to her.
Most of the other tables in the room were occupied by members of Wei Wong’s entourage, with just a sprinkling of non-Chinese hotel guests to provide a discreetly curious audience.
The female members of that audience might be sparkling with diamond jewellery, but for Laura’s money none of them could compete with the awesome magnificence of the jade necklace and earrings worn by Wu Ying. Laura didn’t know enough about antique Chinese jewellery to be positive, but she suspected that they were genuine antiques and not copies. Even copies would have cost a fortune.
Laura had taken to Wu Ying the minute they had been introduced. One member of the Chinese party that Laura had not been able to take to, however, was Gang Li. Laura had been
both initially surprised and then later on repelled by the way in which he looked at her and behaved towards her. She was used to fending off attempts at flirtation from men she met in the course of her work. Normally a certain degree of coolness and a lack of response was enough to get across the message that she wasn’t interested. But what she had seen in Gang Li’s speculative gaze had been more of a brutally sexual assessment of her body, as though it was a piece of meat. His gaze had remained on her breasts when they had been introduced, and it had remained there afterwards until thankfully she had been introduced to Wu Ying, thus enabling her to turn away from him.
Laura was grateful for the fact that she wasn’t seated next to him—but that would only be a brief reprieve, she knew. As Vasilii’s official interpreter she would be required and expected to liaise directly with the Chinese-American simply because he, too, spoke both languages and would be representing Wei Wong Zhang.
Even though Laura knew that Vasilii spoke and understood Mandarin, and she suspected that Wu Ying had a far better grasp of English than she was showing, she still meticulously translated for Vasilii whenever Wei Wong Zhang spoke.
The dinner was, of course, a very formal occasion, with several courses each accompanied by its own wine. Cautiously Laura only took a sip from each fresh glass. Allowing herself to become light-headed with alcohol would be a career mistake she was not prepared to make. That Vasilii was being equally abstemious, though, did make her wonder if he was being so because he had a naturally controlling nature, and wanted to keep his own eye on the game, or because he simply did not trust her.
Laura’s translation of Wei Wong Zhang’s conversation was exemplary, Vasilii had to acknowledge as he listened to her carefully translating a question Wei Wong had asked about Vasilii’s desire to expand into China. She’d even managed to nuance her translation by speaking to him in Russian, so that even if he hadn’t been able to follow Wei Wong’s Chinese perfectly well he would have understood that Wei Wong might be slightly suspicious of his ultimate plans.
Tailoring his own response, he asked Laura to translate back, saying that stories he had learned of China’s imperial greatness in past centuries had given him a lifelong interest in a country of so much potential and history, but that he was humbly aware of how much he still had to learn—which was why he was seeking a Chinese partner from whom he could do just that.
However, even whilst listening to Laura’s translations, Vasilii was also keeping an eye on her manner towards Gang Li. So far she hadn’t put a foot wrong, treating him with calm professionalism, but Vasilii had seen the way Gang Li had looked at Laura earlier. Such an open and obvious display of male lasciviousness was far from something he hadn’t witnessed before. It happened all over the world, amongst every class and kind of man. However, when he saw it being exhibited Vasilii automatically and immediately downgraded his opinion of the man exhibiting it—whether it was welcomed by the woman on the receiving end of it or not. His father had always been respectful of women, whilst still being a man who was very much a man, and Vasilii had naturally modelled his own behaviour on that of his male parent.
Right now, though, it wasn’t Gang Li’s boorishness, nor Laura’s calm, professional manner towards him that was demanding his mental attention so much as his own emotions: the anger and hostility he felt within himself for Gang Li. After all he had no reason to feel protective towards Laura Westcotte. Knowing what he did about her, it wouldn’t entirely surprise him if she actually welcomed the other man’s attentions. As mistress of a man with Gang Li’s potential power—even if their relationship was short-lived—a woman like Laura Westcotte could improve her own career and financial prospects one hundredfold. She had slept with her mentor; it was merely a small step from that to sleeping with another powerful man who could advance her circumstances. If Gang Li’s behaviour was anything to go by he would take her to bed tonight, given the opportunity.
The rush of fury that immediately seized him caught Vasilii unprepared. It was because there were issues here that could impact on his status if Laura slept with Gang Li that he was so concerned—and because as the older brother of a younger vulnerable sister he was automatically attuned to switch to ‘protective mode’. It had nothing to do with Laura herself. Who she chose to have sex with or give her body to meant absolutely nothing whatsoever to him. All that concerned him right now was securing Wei Wong Zhang’s goodwill with regard to his own planned investment in China.
It had been a long evening—a long day, in fact—but now it was finally over and the Chinese had retired for the night. Soon, thankfully, she would be able to go to bed herself, Laura thought tiredly as she followed Vasilii into their own suite. Whilst she felt sure that she must look as tired as she now felt, Vasilii wasn’t exhibiting any signs of tiredness at all as he removed his jacket, dropping it down onto one of the chairs in the suite’s sitting room.
‘Wei Wong doesn’t give much away, but I got the impression that he was impressed by tonight’s dinner,’ she told Vasilii as she fought her wayward and very unprofessional urge to keep on looking at him.
‘Gang Li was certainly impressed by you,’ Vasilii returned.
The comment—so unexpected—had Laura shuddering, openly betraying her revulsion at the mere thought of Gang Li before she could stop herself. She had hated the way he had looked at her—as though she was a … a lump of flesh, rather than a human being. Somehow he had made her feel even more than ordinarily aware of her sexual inexperience, and through it her vulnerability. She hadn’t been able to help thinking that, had she been more experienced, she wouldn’t have felt quite as threatened by Gang Li’s unwanted attention as she had.
Even worse had been how, in the crush of formal thank-yous and goodnights when the party was ending, he had come up to her and—deliberately, Laura was sure—stood so close to her that his hand would have brushed the side of her breast if she hadn’t moved away in time. She had felt so uncomfortable, so aware that her external apparent sophistication was not matched by the reality of what she was inside.
Professionally, all those years working with John as her mentor had protected her from the unwanted advances of men like Gang Li. Just as her teenage crush on Vasilii himself had been so intense that even after she had got over it no one else had ever been able to arouse her to such a fever pitch of longing. It didn’t matter why she was still a virgin. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with Vasilii. It was simply a matter of circumstance—of not having met the right man at the right time.
Because somewhere deep inside her did a part of her still want to believe that Vasilii was that right man? No! Why was she allowing such disturbing and damaging thoughts to surface like this? A different sort of anxiety was beginning to fill her. She didn’t want to think about either her virginity or her crush on Vasilii. She certainly didn’t want to think about those far-off times when she had allowed her teenage imagination to furnish her with fantasies about being held in Vasilii’s embrace and covered with passionate kisses, whilst he begged her to accept his love for her and told her that he couldn’t contain his longing for her. Laura could feel her face burning just at the thought of her naivety and silliness.
Watching her, and taking in Laura’s obvious distress, Vasilii demanded brusquely, ‘I take it from that reaction that you don’t welcome his interest in you?’
Why was he allowing himself to ask her that? Vasilii asked himself grimly. If he wasn’t careful she was going to think that he was taking a personal interest in her, and of course he wasn’t.
Determined to emphasise that, he added more curtly, ‘I only ask because I don’t want to have to deal with the kind of complications that are likely to arise if you encourage him. He is, after all, a married man.’
‘I have no intention of encouraging him. Him or anyone else with whom I am involved professionally,’ she announced, before adding emotionally when she saw his expression, ‘Oh, I know what you think, but it isn’t true. I didn’t have an affair with Joh
n.’
‘So you keep saying.’
‘I’m saying it because it’s the truth.’
Abruptly Laura fell silent. What was she doing? Why should it matter to her what he thought of her? It didn’t—and it mustn’t. And yet … Vasilii was moving about the room as she spoke, and for some reason the sight of the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to his waist had her focusing helplessly on him, the lean fitness of his body obliterating any thought of the unpleasant Gang Li.
With so much to think about from a professional point of view, there really was no excuse for the fact that—regrettably—it was the memory of Vasilii’s body—lean, honed, his flesh warm to her touch as it had been when she had ended up in his lap on the plane—that Laura took to bed with her later that night. And it kept her awake for far too long, with her body aching and a fear inside her that once she did fall asleep she would end up dreaming of being with him in even more intimate situations that would increase that ache of female longing beyond all bearing.
CHAPTER FIVE
TODAY was the final day of what had been a tightly packed few days of negotiations, formal dinners and the only slightly more relaxing tours the Chinese had requested of the hotel, its environs and some of the coastline.
At least this morning she was going to be lucky enough to have one trip which would free her from the oppressive awareness that Vasilii was watching her every move and judging her ability accordingly, and from the even more unwanted visual attention she was getting from Gang Li. Wu Ying had asked if she could see a little more of the hinterland of the country, and if Vasilii could spare Laura to accompany her.
Now, after a working breakfast with the Chinese, Laura and Vasilii had returned to their suite to prepare for their individual programmes for the day.