Ruthless Magnate, Convenient Wife

‘I don’t think you can have read the small print on your contract,’ he breathed in an icy cutting tone of distaste. ‘From the moment you wear my wedding ring, you will be on duty twenty-four-seven.’

Sergei walked away, leaving Alissa paralysed on the pavement with nervous tension. She was torn between regret and relief. A terrifying part of her wanted to run after him, to douse the aggression she had awakened and luxuriate in the kiss that she had subconsciously longed to receive. But the rest of her rejoiced in saying no to that weaker part of her nature. She wasn’t a toy for him to play with as and when he fancied. She was too proud and intelligent to behave like the women who had fawned on him at his club the night when they’d first met, wasn’t she? But just at that moment pride was a cold companion filling her with disappointment rather than a sense of achievement…

Chapter Four

WHEN Alissa returned from her walk, Alexa, her face flushed with annoyance, pounced on her twin the moment she entered the house. ‘Where have you been?’

‘You were still in bed when I got up. I had a few things to buy and then I went for a walk…’

‘A walk?’ Alexa wailed in disbelief. ‘You’re flying to Russia this afternoon and all you can think to do with yourself is go for a stupid walk?’

Alissa compressed her lips. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be away. I’ll miss this place.’

‘Mum came home at lunchtime. She’s guessed where we got the money from!’ her sister told her abruptly.

Alissa studied her twin in dismay. ‘How could she possibly have guessed?’

‘Naturally she doesn’t know about the marriage-as-a-job angle,’ Alexa breathed impatiently. ‘But even though I’m the one who gave the money to the solicitor, she’s convinced that you must have got the money from Sergei to pay off Dad.’

Alissa groaned. ‘My goodness, how am I supposed to talk my way out of that?’

‘Well, you don’t need to bother. Sergei’s loaded and he’s about to become Mum’s son-in-law and one of the family. I said that he’d given the money to you and it was up to you what you did with it. I talked her out of phoning him to discuss it.’

Alexa’s ability to talk her way out of a tight corner was legendary. Alissa regarded her with wry bemusement.

Her twin widened scornful aquamarine eyes. ‘So once again, you didn’t need to do anything; I saved the day.’

Anger flashed through Alissa and she had to grit her teeth to hold it back. In spite of the fact that Alexa was marrying Harry in twenty-four hours, her sister was behaving as though she were the wronged party. ‘No, I’m the one saving the day this time around,’ Alissa contradicted. ‘You signed the contract in my name without my knowledge, but I’m marrying Sergei.’

‘Whoopee-do, and what a sacrifice that is!’ Alexa exclaimed with stinging derision. ‘He’s absolutely gorgeous, fantastically rich and incredibly generous. Look at the presents he keeps on sending you, never mind the flowers! Anyone would be forgiven for thinking you’re marrying him for real tomorrow.’

Her face tight with discomfiture, Alissa went upstairs to escape the argument. It hurt to be at odds with her twin, to be forced to accept that Alexa’s love of money and luxury currently seemed more important to her than Harry, or even her baby. Over the past five days, Sergei had sent Alissa flowers every morning as well as several unexpected gifts. Alissa wondered if he was trying to convince her mother that they were a normal bride and groom, for she couldn’t think of any other reason for his munificence. She was now the bemused owner of a diamond-studded watch, an extensive set of designer luggage and a diamond solitaire ring that had made Alexa so jealous she had snapped at Harry when he had collected her for their wedding rehearsal that same evening.

Was Sergei simply getting into the role of keen bridegroom? He had phoned her every day as well. But he talked as though words came at a premium price that he was too stingy to pay. He would mention briefly that he was in New York or had just closed a deal, or he would talk about his football club or the players. Alissa found herself chattering about nothing in particular to fill the awkward lulls and afterwards she would cringe at the memory of her more inane comments. And, sometimes, Sergei would ask questions that were more terrifying than encouraging.

‘How many men have you had in your life?’ had been one blunt and bold enquiry that had shaken her.

‘One or two,’ she had told him grudgingly and, to punish him for his inappropriate curiosity, she had counter-attacked with, ‘Have you ever been in love?’

‘That is when you get excessively attached to one woman? No, I’ve never even come close,’ he had informed her with a distinct note of satisfaction, as if falling in love was something real men didn’t do.

‘Then why did you get married that first time?’ she had heard herself demand before she c

ould think better of getting so personal—especially when she was trying to set an example by being impersonal with him.

A yawning, uneasy silence had greeted her query.

‘She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen,’ he had finally imparted in a discouragingly gritty response. But that’s so superficial, Alissa had wanted to tell him, though the tense atmosphere had kept her quiet.

Those phone conversations had brought Alissa no nearer to knowing the man she had agreed to marry. If anything he had become more of an enigma than ever. He could be very unpredictable. He was still a closed book in every way that mattered and curiosity was starting to kill her. She needed to know what made Sergei Antonovich tick, what made him angry, what made him happy. With each day that passed the big black hole of her ignorance only irritated her more.

That afternoon, Alissa parted from her mother and her sister in the privacy of their home. Alexa was brittle and moody and Alissa wished her twin and her prospective bridegroom well before she left alone for the airport. Of course, while she was involved with Sergei she could never be truly alone, because he had insisted that she accept the presence of a pair of bodyguards, who had collected her from home.

Her mobile phone rang on the journey. When she answered it, she was taken aback to hear her father’s voice. ‘Your mother told me at the weekend that you’re leaving this afternoon. I’m at the airport and I need to talk to you—’

‘At the airport?’ Alissa repeated in surprise.

‘Meet me for coffee,’ Maurice Bartlett urged. ‘I’m only here to see you. It feels like half a lifetime since we last met.’