Ruthless Magnate, Convenient Wife

Sergei dealt her a flashing smile of such intrinsic charisma that her gaze stayed glued to him. ‘We

’ll eat together in an hour.’

Relieved by his departure and wrung out by the day’s events, Alissa shed her dress in the bedroom and finally sank into the bath with a heartfelt sigh of pleasure. Rose petals floated on the surface of the fragrant water. Sergei, she acknowledged in wonderment, had actually pre-arranged the candlelit bath for her and she was impressed, much more impressed than she had been by the gift of the extravagant diamond and emerald necklace. She shifted position and the dulled throb of her still tender flesh mocked her. So she was fine, was she?

She had had a lust-fuelled sexual encounter for the very first time and, while she was still ashamed of herself, she was even more worried that it would take very little effort on his part to persuade her into a repetition. The whole situation ran against her every principle and just then she could not work out how she had got caught up in it. She was his wife, his bought and paid for wife, who had already agreed to let him go without a fuss when he wanted his freedom back. He saw no reason why they shouldn’t make the most of the attraction between them in the meantime. Alexa would probably have laughed and settled for a short-lived casual affair, Alissa reflected uncomfortably. Why did she want more from Sergei than that fleeting sexual interest?

What did she like about Sergei Antonovich? It amazed her that she had disliked him so thoroughly at their first meeting. But then she had learned more about him since then, she reasoned.

He was very fond of his grandmother and so determined to make the older woman happy that he was willing to fake a marriage for her benefit. Alissa believed that he had made the wrong decision on that score, but she couldn’t fault his good intentions. She also liked the fact that for all his wealth and power he didn’t take himself too seriously. And his manners were faultless. He opened doors, held out coats for her, asked if she was cold and generally practised the kind of courtesy that had fallen out of fashion with so many men. He made her feel incredibly feminine as well. And although he was extremely blunt she preferred honesty to hypocrisy and evasion. Besides, while he was indisputably arrogant and bossy, he could also be surprisingly thoughtful and considerate, she conceded, resting back in the sunken tub with a dreamy smile blossoming on her face. When a maid rapped on the door to deliver a box of handmade chocolates to the very side of the bath, Alissa’s smile shone even brighter. She let a chocolate melt against her taste buds and sighed in bliss while she allowed her thoughts to drift for long timeless moments.

I really really fancy him. I want to sleep with him tonight. I’m falling in love with him like some silly infatuated schoolgirl!

Eyes wide with shock and dismay at the thoughts suddenly chasing without warning through her bemused head, Alissa sat up with a start, water sloshing noisily around her. Conscious that the water was cooling by then, she got out of the bath and wrapped her slender figure in a white fleecy towel. Only taking the time to remove her make-up and comb her hair, she returned to the bedroom just as the phone by the bed buzzed.

‘Come and join me,’ Sergei urged lazily. ‘I’ve just had to sack the manager of my football team!’

Alissa rummaged through the drawers in the dressing room for nightwear. Everything had been unpacked and neatly put away for her. Sliding into a turquoise nightdress in haste, she pulled on the matching wrap while chanting a firm mantra to herself. I am not going to have sex with him again. I am not going to have sex with him again under any circumstances. We’re just going to talk about football. But I do hope I don’t have to watch any.

Sergei, his lean, beautifully built body clad solely in a pair of black silk designer boxers, was pacing the floor of the room next door and talking on the phone in a foreign language. He was also gesticulating with a good deal of force to express his feelings. With the fingers of one brown hand he indicated the trolley of food by the bed in an invitation for her to help herself.

Alissa only then realised that she was actually ravenously hungry and she lifted a plate and selected choice morsels of food from the sizeable assortment of hot and cold dishes on offer. Forcing her attention away from the clothes discarded untidily on the carpet, she curled up on the bed and munched happily through a selection of chicken, salad and fresh baked bread. Sergei completed his phone call, treated her to a spirited speech about unreliable temperamental staff and embarked straight away on another phone call. She didn’t quite grasp what all the fuss was about and truthfully didn’t much care. Halfway through her own meal she set it aside and filled a plate for him, placing it where he could reach it while he paced back and forth.

‘How many languages do you speak?’ she enquired between calls.

‘Six or seven and enough to make myself understood in basic terms in another couple,’ he breathed as if the talent were nothing unusual. ‘When I do business, I like to be able to talk to people direct rather than through intermediaries.’

‘I speak French and Spanish but not fluently,’ she told him modestly.

‘You have to learn Russian,’ he replied.

‘Do I?’

His black brows drew together in a frown at the question. ‘Of course, milaya moya.’

Sergei studied her, striving to dissect the precise source of her ever-growing appeal because, just at that moment, she looked more like a teenager than an adult. Her face shone with cleanliness and her hair was tucked untidily behind her ears. Natural and unadorned, she bore no resemblance to the high maintenance women who normally shared his bed. She had beautiful eyes though, very clear and expressive. They were by far her best feature, although that soft, full-lipped mouth was worthy of note too, he conceded, while at the same time noting the fine smooth grain of her skin and the appealing delicacy of her bone structure. His appetite for food dwindled to be replaced by another kind of hunger while he appraised her and recalled more intimate images that sent the blood pounding through his veins.

Struggling to appear unaware of that lengthy allmale scrutiny, Alissa asked herself what she was doing sitting on his bed. Was that being standoffish? More businesslike in her approach? Discouraging? Shame sat like a lump of lead in her stomach but she didn’t budge. Without warning the prospect of keeping her distance from him and restoring platonic limits had all the appeal of a heavy rainstorm on her horizon.

‘I like that you’re completely sober,’ Sergei commented.

‘I learned to leave my glass full and everyone stopped pushing more drinks in my direction,’ she confided with a comical expression.

Charmed by that cheeky smile, Sergei switched off his phone, tossed it aside and reached for her with purposeful hands. She came up on her knees and he knotted one hand in the heavy fall of her golden hair and slowly, sexily ravished her mouth while he pushed the wrap and the straps of her nightie down off her slim shoulders. As the garments fell to her knees he captured her breasts and kneaded the quivering tips until she was gasping, shaken by the immediate surge of heat between her thighs.

‘I can’t stop wanting you,’ Sergei growled, long fingers dropping down to part the golden curls on her mound and gently tease the sensitive bud of her clitoris before venturing to stroke the lush damp lips she would have hidden from him.

Her breath was rattling in her tight throat. She parted her thighs for him, awkwardly balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder until he hauled her up into his arms and tipped her back on the bed. Her body was humming, as desperate for every caress as though their earlier encounter had never happened. He kissed a tormenting passage down over her writhing, shifting length.

‘I want to make love to you the way I should have this afternoon,’ Sergei breathed thickly. ‘I can’t wait to drive you crazy with pleasure.’

And just as he knew what he was doing, she did as well. Later she would make herself acknowledge that shameful fact, but while he was doing gloriously arousing things to her weak and easily tempted body she was a complete pushover. What she was feeling was impossibly strong and left no room for questions of right and wrong. He pleasured her with his mouth and his tongue and his fingers until she was a trembling, overheated heap of excited nerve-endings crying out for more.

Hot and ready, she watched him as he donned protection. When he finally sank into the tight wet sheath of her womanhood, the sheer excitement of his entrance sent her careening headlong into violent orgasm. Her sobs and convulsions of delight almost made Sergei lose control as well. Fierce strain etched in the hard, handsome contours of his face, he lifted her knees to hold her still and drove his hard male heat into her yielding flesh with insistent hunger.

Her excitement never once dropped by so much as an atom and she soon hit another high, a climax ripping through her like fireworks blazing up. Afterwards she thought she would never move again. Her limbs were heavy, her body languorous and the most amazing sense of well-being and peace engulfed her. Sergei rolled over, keeping his arms wrapped round her so that he carried her with him.

‘You are so hot, angil moy,’ he intoned, his stunning dark golden eyes glittering with rich appreciation, his heart still thundering against her, his bronzed length damp with sweat. ‘I may never let you get out of this bed again.’