Ruthless Magnate, Convenient Wife

‘What’s going on?’ Sergei demanded, and one glance at his lean, taut features was sufficient to tell her how much he hated being left out of the loop on any issue.

‘My mother saw a photo of us together in a newspaper and she’s in shock—’

‘Is that her you’re speaking to? No?’ he queried. ‘Then get her on the phone so that I can speak to her.’

And although Alissa tried to argue with him, nothing else would satisfy him. Alissa dialled the number of her home and broke through her mother’s anxious and reproachful questions to ask her to speak to Sergei. Sergei then took the phone from her damp grasp and proceeded to stun Alissa by selling himself as the perfect son-in-law, who couldn’t wait to meet his future mother-in-law. While Alissa hovered, taut with growing incredulity and resentment at the ease with which he dealt with the situation, he insisted he would send a car to pick her parent up and ferry her back to London to dine with them that same evening.

When he had finished talking, he passed the phone back to Alissa.

‘I do understand why you got swept away by him,’ Jenny Bartlett told her daughter in a dazed voice. ‘Sergei really does know what he wants, doesn’t he? I can’t wait to meet him, darling.’

‘I seem to recall that your parents are getting a divorce,’ Sergei remarked when the call had finished.

‘Yes,’ Alissa confirmed with a flat lack of expression, shying away from that controversial subject while dimly also wondering why he had never known about Christmas until he went to live with his grandmother. Had his parents died? What age had he been? She decided it was no business of hers and that if she wanted to survive their fake marriage she had to learn to keep a sensible distance from him.

She didn’t go back to Alexa’s flat that evening. Meanwhile, Sergei dropped her off at his indescribably chic apartment to get changed while he returned to his o

ffice to attend a meeting. Alissa wandered round the penthouse admiring the fabulous art works on display, before selecting an elegant green shift dress to wear. The prospect of trying to deceive her mother into crediting that she was in love with Sergei seriously unnerved her.

But she need not have worried for right from the start Sergei took centre stage and it was soon clear that her mother was much impressed by his calm and assurance. Alissa, however, was taken aback when the older woman let drop that Alexa had picked the same day to marry Harry that Alissa had to marry Sergei. As quickly Alissa assumed that Alexa had chosen that date deliberately to ensure that Sergei did not have an opportunity to meet her.

‘An extraordinary coincidence,’ Sergei commented.

‘A disaster because I can’t be in two places at once,’ Alissa’s mother opined in a pained voice, her distress unconcealed at that clash of dates. ‘I’m heavily involved in organising Alexa’s day and, because she’s pregnant, I can’t possibly abandon her to see to it all on her own—’

‘Of course not,’ Alissa broke in and squeezed her mother’s hand soothingly. ‘We understand…’

‘But I really would like to see both my daughters get married.’

‘Unhappily our arrangements are too advanced to allow the date to be changed,’ Sergei said in a tone of apology.

‘But there is a solution,’ Jenny told him hopefully. ‘Would you consider a double wedding with Alexa and Harry here in the UK?’

Alissa’s eyes opened very wide at that startling suggestion and she froze in dismay; if Sergei met her sister, he would learn that Jenny’s daughters were identical twins and he might well become suspicious!

‘I’m afraid such an arrangement would not be possible.’ Sergei then explained that he had an elderly and frail grandmother who had never left Russia in her life and who was eagerly looking forward to attending their traditional wedding in St Petersburg.

Alissa assumed it was a polite lie, but she was impressed by his inventiveness when put on the spot. She reckoned that the presence of her mother at her own bogus wedding would only make the occasion more of a strain. When it occurred to her that she was already in the very act of deceiving her mother, guilt pierced her deep.

Sergei then went on to suggest that he and Alissa should have a church blessing, followed by a party at which he could meet Alissa’s friends and family, in London the following month. Her mother’s disappointed face slowly warmed to that prospect and it was easy to tell from the suggestions she went on to make for the event that she was, not only charmed by the idea, but also equally charmed by the man who had voiced it.

When the meal was over, Alissa opted to return home with her mother. Sergei’s steely glance warned her that he was displeased by that choice, but Alissa had no intention of spending time alone with him at his penthouse. Their marriage was supposed to be a legal arrangement and a job, nothing more, and if she wanted him to respect those boundaries she needed to keep some distance between them. In addition, Alissa was in no hurry to return to Alexa’s apartment laden with piles of expensive clothes that would be likely to awaken her twin’s bitter envy again.

‘I expected to see you again before the wedding,’ Sergei revealed, standing on the pavement beside the Mercedes that contained Alissa’s mother and awaited Alissa.

‘I’m sorry—I’d like to spend some time at home before I go to Russia.’ Pale and taut, Alissa collided head on with smouldering dark golden eyes heavily fringed with lush black lashes. Her tummy flipped as if she had been flung up in the air. Surely no man had ever had such compellingly beautiful eyes? Her fingers clenched into her palms as she stepped back from Sergei, uneasily aware of the phalanx of bodyguards hovering around them.

‘You make it sound so reasonable, milaya.’ Sergei reached out and closed a hand round hers as she brushed a skein of gold silky hair back from her brow. He eased her inexorably closer. ‘But you know that’s not what I want.’

The lashes above her aquamarine eyes fluttered down to conceal her strained gaze. Her heart was racing like an overwound clock behind her breastbone. His mesmeric pull was almost more than she could bear. Even the timbre of his rich dark drawl slivered through her like the lick of a flame. But that tide of physical response infuriated her and stung her pride.

‘Surely there’s some part of the day when I can have my own free time?’ Alissa queried, throwing her blonde head high, a gleam of challenge in her bright eyes.

‘Your own free time?’ Sergei countered, his lean dark features tensing.

‘Isn’t this a job? I can’t be on duty twenty-four-seven.’

Sergei froze, all warmth ebbing from his gaze leaving it winter-dark and cold. In that instant she could have done nothing more offensive than voice a cool and emotionless reminder of the legal agreement that had brought them together He marvelled that for a little while he had somehow contrived to forget that fact. Her words had grated on him, striking the hard calculating note that he was all too accustomed to hearing from her sex. Evidently he had not yet been generous enough to keep her sweet.