Modern Romance Collection: January 2018 Books 1 -4. Dani Collins

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wrong her father had been, Natalya reflected as weariness won and sleep provided a blissful escape.

      * * *

      Reflection served no purpose, Natalya decided as she guided the BMW through heavy traffic clogging main arterial roads leading from the city at another day’s end.

      A day fraught with action, demands which tested her ability to keep up with Alexei’s instructions...so much so, tense didn’t begin to cover it.

      The man was a machine, geared into top form and take no prisoners mode. So chillingly calm, it sent figurative ice tricking down her spine...together with a degree of sympathy for whoever was his target.

      If Alexei’s motive had been an exercise in trialling the limits of her professional endurance...he’d positively nailed it.

      There was the need for distraction, preferably something physical, where she could don boxing gloves and rid some excess anger against a punching ball...replacing the ball with a figurative image of him. There was a gym bag packed with clean gear in the boot of her car in readiness for a spontaneous workout should the mood take her...as it did now.

      A flyer for a new women’s only gym in a relatively new complex not far from her home had recently popped into her mailbox, and on the spur of the moment she decided to give it a trial.

      Attractive signage, she acknowledged as she parked the car and retrieved her gym bag. Uncluttered reception area, boutique style with strategically placed mirrors, an attractive receptionist who took details, offered a friendly spiel, and alerted an attendant to escort Natalya on a explanatory tour of the premises.

      Great state-of-the-art equipment, where a few participants played...the only word Natalya could think of, wearing the latest design in imported gym wear, full make-up, hair artfully tied back, at a pace aimed deliberately to avoid a sweat.

      Seriously?

      Her own dark grey sweat pants and matching sports top would stand out like a sore thumb.

      Then she spotted a woman with a camera, and realised an infomercial was in progress.

      ‘They’re nearly done,’ the attendant relayed quietly as she indicated a passage. ‘The change rooms are accessed to the left. Each cubicle has an individual lock, a cabinet for your personal effects and an adjoining shower.’ She handed over a key, offered a friendly smile. ‘Enjoy your time here. Any questions, just ask.’

      Feminine and functional...a pleasant combination, Natalya approved and she donned gym wear, executed a set of warm-up exercises before hitting the gym itself, initially setting a moderate pace before gradually increasing to near professional speed, maintaining it, then easing off. Taking time to hydrate, before moving on to a rowing machine.

      Physical exercise, endorphins helped ease stress and tension...a clinical fact, Natalya acknowledged with gratitude as she took a leisurely shower more than an hour later, emerging refreshed, equilibrium somewhat restored by provided liquid lotions, clean casual clothes.

      Natalya offered the receptionist a brief smile as she handed in the locker key.

      ‘That was some workout,’ the attractive blonde relayed with a degree of admiration. ‘I hope you’ll decide to take advantage of our membership.’

      Maybe. The venue had high-end equipment, the facilities were fine, and it was close to home. There was no reason why she couldn’t split her exercise regime between her regular gym and this one.

      She was almost out of the door when her smartphone beeped with an incoming text, and she checked the screen, recognised the sender’s number, and muttered something unprintable as she reached her car, aimed the remote, heard the resultant chirp, then slid in behind the wheel to check the message.

      Current Passport USA Visa departure next week, destination NY. A.

      Okay, she got it. Business, with scheduling details to follow.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE REMAINDER OF the week progressed without a hitch as Natalya dealt with work, meetings, together with Alexei’s seemingly incessant instructions. If, as she suspected, he sought to see her fall in a heap as he ramped up the pressure, she took satisfaction in being one step ahead of him by coping admirably...and then some.

      The weekend loomed, with nothing planned other than her usual routine, and maybe a call to her close friend, Anja, suggesting they take in a movie currently gaining rave reviews.

      Pleasant, low-key, enjoyable.

      So why this sudden feeling of restlessness? As if there should be more to her life than a predictable pattern with little, if any variation.

      She was happy with the status quo...wasn’t she?

      Because it’s safe, a silent voice taunted.

      A conscious choice, she determined. One with which she’d been perfectly content...until now.

      The cause, she reluctantly admitted, was Alexei.

      There. In her face. Invading her mind...her sleep, as a reminder of what they’d once shared together.

      Like she wanted to be caught up in an emotional maelstrom? Alternately dismissing the secret yearning deep in her heart, and the need to rail against him for causing it.

      The electric fire of his touch when their hands met on the door clasp of her car in the bowels of the basement car park, when for one wild unprincipled moment she hadn’t been able to think, let alone move.

      Had he felt it, too?

      For heaven’s sake, take a reality check.

      Alexei’s sole motivation was revenge. Hadn’t he gone to exceptional lengths to ensure he’d covered every possible angle?

      So why waste time trying to search for that elusive something that didn’t quite gel?

      Worse, why was it she who was paying the price for her father’s indiscretions and financial misdeeds?

      Enough already.

      Except her weekend plans were felled in one swift stroke with a text message received at ten fifty-three Saturday morning from Alexei demanding she contact him asap.

      A soft imprecation escaped from her lips, followed by, ‘Who the hell does he think he is?’

      Natalya thrust the phone back into her bag and zipped the compartment.

      He could wait.

      She was hot, sweaty, in need of a shower and change of clothes following a vigorous hour of squash. There was a sense of satisfaction in taking her time, and she emerged into the reception area to find Aaron waiting for her.

      ‘Problem?’

      ‘Is it that obvious?’

      ‘Uh-huh. You have the look.’

      Natalya rolled her eyes.

      ‘Alexei,’

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