His fingers were precise, insistent, the pad of his thumb bringing her rapidly close to a place she had never shared with another, his mouth on her neck sucking her, almost bruising her, his other hand at his zipper and…
What did this man do to her?
Whatever it was—he just did.
She was putty in his warm, skilful hands.
She was strong and independent and a survivor— yet in this, only in this, she was weak and needy and it was delicious.
‘Take it off.’ He wanted to see her, but his hands were too busy. He felt her momentarily freeze, but he wanted this. He had only had glimpses before, and he wanted the full view now. His mouth was nuzzling her breasts, his forehead butting and pushing the fabric of her dressing gown apart, and he did not care if she was embarrassed—did not give a thought to her hang-ups about her figure. All he could think of was her, and the lush spill of flesh as she shrugged off her robe, and he was lost.
Sex for Aleksi was an escape, but this was different. He could hear the little whimpers from her throat and feel the swell of her breasts in his mouth, feel this shy, guarded woman ripple into sensual life. And he wasn’t escaping—he was gone. Lost in a world that was absent from pain and the bleak abyss of confusion. He remembered her soft lips last night and he wanted her to have the same.
‘Aleksi, no…’
It wasn’t a no that meant yes, and it wasn’t a no that meant no. It was a no that said she could never enjoy it, a no that said this was not how he could pleasure her—because, naked on her kitchen bench, she felt the world coming back into focus. She felt as big and as bulky and as shiny and red as a Russian nesting doll—until he cracked that image with his mouth, dispelled it with a flick of his tongue, and eked from her the prettier woman inside. And then he did it again, till she was back in her head and alive in her body.
It was perhaps the abstinence from medication, Aleksi concluded, that had ended his abstinence from a more basic, once frequent pleasure.
It could not be her, could it? For Aleksi relied on no one.
And yet…
There was no one else he would consider entering unprotected, yet he relished that thought now.
‘Aleksi, please…’ She wanted him as she had never wanted another. She wanted—no, needed to finally know the bliss of him inside her. Yet he wouldn’t give her that satisfaction just yet.
He would give her another kind first.
Aleksi knew how to pleasure women. He had been taught, and he had listened well. God, but he’d loved those lessons. He listened to the moans and the trip of the rhythm in his lovers’ breathing and there was always an unseen smile of triumph on his busy lips as he took her to the edge—except there were no mechanics in play today. Aleksi was as lost as she.
He could feel her orgasm, he could hear it and taste it, feel the beats of her climax on his lips, and there was no smile of triumph, just unadulterated satisfaction in his mind. Her pleasures were his—till a lush, greedy selfishness invaded.
And she shared in that selfishness.
The pure pleasure of an individual want that could be shared. Her nails dug into his shoulders, pushing him away, pulling him in, and she was writhing as he broke her open further, to reveal the prettiest of them all, to expose a Kate that she hadn’t known was there.
A Kate who sobbed and begged and whimpered and relished. And still, even as she gathered herself up, even as she tried to put all the little Kates back inside themselves, he did not relent.
Oh, he dragged his mouth up her stomach to her neck, he held her as she came back to the world, but he did not abate. She was weak, and she wanted to regroup. Her head was on his shoulder now, but he pushed it back.
He smiled at her, and then he slipped down the zipper of his pants, unfurled his magnificent self—not discreetly, instead very deliberately—and she felt the startle of a starter’s gun. Staring down at his glorious erection, she felt as if she were being propelled, unready, out of the gate—she wanted to slow down, to savour, to come back to the world after the decadent escape his lips had allowed her. Yet there he was.
Her boss, her dream, and now her lover.
She wanted to discuss, to think, to question—only not as much as she wanted him.
Wanted more than the shudder of an orgasm and the freedom of exploration.
He was beautiful.
Kisses in the dark didn’t do him justice.
He was at her entrance, and she ran a finger around the tip of him, felt a helpless excitement at his rare beauty, and her own, too.
Why didn’t she feel shy under such intense scrutiny?
Why was only a teeny, irrelevant part of her thinking of the slim, childless beauties he must be so much more used to?
Because his delight in her was so obvious.
He stroked his tip along her pretty, wet place and she shuddered involuntarily.
So he stroked her again and again, and let her glimpse just how good this was going to be, made her squirm with fresh want till he was sure she was more than ready.
‘Please.’ She was begging now. ‘Aleksi, please.’
But since when did Aleksi play nice?
‘All this can be yours.’
She’d never know the massive effort it took for him to step back from her, to somehow contain himself, to get himself back into his pants and pull up his zipper—but he had been ruthless at getting his own way for a very long time, and Aleksi really wanted things his way now.
‘You—!’ She didn’t say it—she didn’t have to. All he did was shrug.
‘Let me know on Monday.’ She could see the scratches from her nails on his back as he turned and pulled on his shirt as her phone rang. ‘Are you going to get that?’
She wouldn’t have—except it was her sister.
And she wished—even as she heard what was said, even as she acknowledged that her sister was absolutely right to have rung—just wished the call had come ten minutes later. Because what she heard made it incredibly hard to be brave, to refuse, to turn down Aleksi’s once-in-a-lifetime offer.
‘It’s Georgie.’ As she replaced the receiver, even if she loathed him at this moment, she knew he was human. Even if she wanted to be brave for a little while longer, where Georgie was concerned she simply couldn’t. ‘She wet the bed, she’s in tears. She didn’t want to upset me.’
‘About what?’
‘She’s being bullied.’
‘Bullied?’
Kate’s heart was in her throat. ‘I knew she didn’t fit in. I know the other children can be a bit mean to her. But they actually pinch her. They hide her glasses. They throw her lunch in the sandpit. They call her names. She just told my sister. She didn’t want to tell me because she knows there’s nothing I can do…’
Always—no matter how busy his day, no matter what was going on his life—always he took time to hear about Georgie. Only this morning he didn’t. Instead, Kate watched as he patted the pockets of his jacket and looked for his phone—then remembered he’d thrown it away.
‘I need a phone.’
‘That’s all you can say?’ she asked, hurt beyond belief.
‘I could say plenty, Kate.’ Instead he took out his chequebook and put that impossible figure into words and then seven figures, and then tore it out of the book and placed it on the table. ‘But you already have the answer.’
She did.
And what mother wouldn’t sell her soul for her daughter? Kate tried to reason. At least this way she wouldn’t be beholden to him for years—wouldn’t be dangling on a string, nervous to answer back in case he fired her, worrying for the next twelve years that he might up and relocate to Europe or…
Oh, there were many reasons to take it, but only then did it dawn on her—only then did she acknowledge what was really stopping her. Only then did the truth she had tried to deny for years hit her.
It had been easy to blame Georgie for her lack of relationships—easy to say she was too busy for romance, that she di
dn’t want a partner invading their lives. Oh, there had been so many reasons, so many excuses, and all, in part, had been true.
Yet there was a bigger truth.
From the day Aleksi Kolovsky had stepped off the plane and run a bored eye over her swollen stomach she had been attracted to him.
From the day he had walked into the maternity ward and plucked her and Georgie from the pitying stares and the incessant beat of loneliness she had held a soft spot for him.
But more than that—oh, so much more than that.
She stared for a dangerous second into eyes that were as grey and murky as the ocean after a storm, saw the beauty and the danger and the hidden depths and the strange pull that always, always dragged her in. Then she saw the mouth that both kissed and cursed, the supreme package that was Aleksi, a man who offered her escape while warning her not to love him—except his warnings came too late. Nearly five years too late, in fact. There were no hatches left to batten down, no time for rapid preparation.
The storm that was Aleksi Kolovsky had already hit, already invaded.
It was quite possible that she already loved him.
Chapter Six
‘I DON’T have to go back?’
Georgie’s eyes shone with a hope that had been missing for a long time. Kate had left Aleksi and driven two hours to the country where her sister Julie lived, and had broken the news to her daughter.
‘I don’t ever have to go back to that school?’
‘No, you don’t.’
It was such a relief to tell her. Oh, Kate knew running away from problems wasn’t the answer, but watching her daughter struggle and struggle just to belong, watching her spark fade, wasn’t the answer either.
Telling her about Aleksi was harder.
She was so accepting, so delighted, so happy with the news that Kate found it hard to meet her sister’s eyes.
‘You’re a dark horse!’ Julie grinned when Kate joined her in the kitchen. ‘God, Kate, this is fantastic. I’m so happy for you.’
‘It’s early days.’
‘You’re getting engaged!’ Julie refused to be anything less than delighted for her sister, and wrapped her in a huge embrace. ‘After all you’ve been through, I’m just so glad to see you happy. Now, go!’ Julie said. ‘We’ll have Georgie while you sort everything out. You go and do what you have to.’
Julie had no idea, Kate realised as she drove from her sister’s, how hard those words might hit her.
‘Come in.’
Aleksi was dressed casually now.
Or as casually as a Kolovsky could manage.
In black jeans and a black T-shirt, with his hair wet from a shower and his jaw unshaven, Kate realised as she stepped into his stunning home that he was also perhaps just a touch uncomfortable.
‘How did Georgie take the news?’ he wanted to know.
‘She’s delighted.’ Kate struggled to keep the unhappiness from her voice; she was a willing participant in this ruse, she reminded herself. Only this so wasn’t what she had wanted.
‘I’ll show you around.’
She had never been to his home, although she had sat outside it in a car a couple of times, to be brought up to speed on a few things on Aleksi’s way to catch a flight.
She had never, though, been invited inside, and from what she knew few women were.
Aleksi lived outside of the city. It had always surprised her. Such an eligible bachelor should surely have penthouse city views. When he needed to be close by work, or when he brought a woman back, he used hotels. It shouldn’t have surprised her, really—after all, she had once worked for Levander, who had chosen to live full-time in a luxury hotel.
‘I’m not a trauma doctor like my brother,’ Aleksi had once said. ‘I don’t need to be three minutes’ drive away from work. An emergency for me can be dealt with online.’
And so he showed her around. It was an amazing home, sun-drenched and tastefully furnished. The jarrah floors echoed her steps as she walked around. Her eyes took in the huge white sofas and the modern artwork that hadn’t been purchased with a five-year-old in mind! Every room offered views of the bay, and it didn’t end there—there was a pool, tennis courts, a gym, and if that didn’t satisfy there was always the beach a mere step away.
‘This is us.’ He gave a tight smile as he indicated the master bedroom, and stood watching her cheeks burn as her eyes took in the bed that was centre stage. ‘There’s plenty of wardrobe space…’
Except she wasn’t really worried about that!
Kate peered into the en-suite bathroom, to the spa and double shower, and she caught a strong scent of his cologne and an intimate glimpse into the private world of Aleksi—glass bottles and heavy brushes lined up in the control room where he prepared himself for each day. She was almost dizzy with the thought that for now she would be sharing it with him. Rather than dwell on that, she walked back through the bedroom, stepped out of the French doors and onto the decking area.
‘The view’s amazing.’ Port Phillip Bay was a vast horseshoe that spread from Queenscliffe on one end to the sharp peaks of Melbourne’s city buildings on the other, and Alexi’s house sat in between, with each destination a possibility. She could see a pier nearby, and tried to hazard which one, but then she looked to the left and there was another. The water was so close she could hear it lap, lap, lap, and then swish as it pulled out.
‘Do you swim in the bay?’ He was standing beside her and she struggled to make light conversation.
‘I prefer the pool,’ he replied. He gave the view just a cursory glance. ‘I suppose it is nice when it storms.’
‘It’s wonderful now!’ Kate said, but Aleksi just shrugged.
‘You get used to it.’
She’d never get used to it.
Even after the weekend, even after Georgie had been enrolled in her new school, ready to start midweek, even after Kate had been back at her desk for a little while on the Tuesday afternoon, there was still no getting used to anything—and not just for her either.
‘Kate! Kate?’ She could hear the incredulity in Nina’s voice and then worse, far worse, the bitchy ring of her laughter. Aleksi’s office door was slightly open, but even had it been closed, the stench of her words would have seeped through. ‘Now I really have heard it all. Tell me, Aleksi, how is getting engaged to that bumbling whale with her illegitimate daughter supposed to convince the board you’re serious about preserving our elite name?’ Aleksi must have moved to close the door, but Nina halted him. ‘If she really is joining our family, Aleksi, she may as well hear it. You could have any woman and you chose her—are the doctors quite sure that there is no brain damage after your accident?’
He had hated his mother for decades.
Not a door-slamming, palpable hatred, more an apathetic one that simmered away silently.
He cared so little for Nina, and with such good reason, that perhaps it would have been wiser to walk away after his father’s death. Yet he had stayed and risen to the challenge of running the House of Kolovsky on the death of his father. After Levander had had enough of it, and Iosef didn’t want it at all, Aleksi had stepped up and taken control.
He liked the power, the life, the buzz.
Or he had done.
If his brain had been damaged in the accident, Aleksi was almost grateful for it—for now he could almost see.
Almost.
The ring was on her finger, Kate’s possessions were in his home, she was picking up Georgie soon, and the little girl would start her new school tomorrow. The press were about to be informed but first, though—as it was in normal families, right?—he shared the news with his mother.
‘The board will never buy it,’ Nina scoffed.
‘This isn’t for the board.’ Aleksi leant back in his chair. ‘This is for me. Since the accident, I’ve realised how much Kate—’
‘Oh, please.’ Nina scorned. ‘You, taking on some other man’s child? You, a parent?’ Nina laughed. She just threw h
er head back and laughed at the very idea. ‘How much are you paying her? Then again,’ she mused, ‘it wouldn’t take much! She’d be grateful just to share your bed and get free board…’
Where had the apathy gone? Aleksi’s formidable temper was usually saved for the boardroom, but today he stood from his chair, walked over to where his mother sat and stared at her—stared into those pale blue eyes—and the anger that usually seethed deep within him bubbled to the surface, even though Nina was too foolish to see it.
‘When I had my accident,’ Aleksi said slowly, ‘she was there every day for me.’
‘Because you pay her to be!’
‘When I was in the Caribbean she called. She—’
‘Because, like every other woman in Melbourne, she’s crazy about you.’ Nina was as hard as nails. ‘You don’t have to get engaged to the halfwit. Are you really telling me that her child is moving in too? That the slut is bringing her—’
‘When I watch Kate with her daughter—’ he spoke over Nina’s filth, his voice slowly rising ‘—I see, for the first time, how a mother should behave.’ He was standing over her now. ‘I see how a parent should care for their child.’ Then he stopped. Not a word more was uttered, not a hand raised, but he stared at his mother till she blinked with nervousness. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, because if he spoke now he would annihilate her. And maybe she sensed it, because only when he had walked back to his desk did Nina find the bravado to speak again—her voice not quite so assured now.
‘If you do care for her, Aleksi, then what the hell are you doing? The press will crucify her.’ Her voice was almost sympathetic. ‘There will be huge interest in the engagement.’
‘Kate can handle it,’ Aleksi said, but though his voice was sure he himself was not. For the first time guilt was trickling in. He was more than used to the regular probes into his private life, and the girls he usually dated were delighted at any publicity—but Kate?
The Last Kolovsky Playboy Page 8