THREE
NATALYA ENTERED HER HOME, greeted Ollie, her beautiful Birman cat, caught him close for a customary cuddle, gave a light laugh at his plaintive miaow as she made her way into the kitchen.
‘Okay, I get it. Dinner time.’ She toed off her stilettos, dropped her bag onto the marble-topped servery, then moved to the walk-in pantry.
‘Chicken or fish?’
Unable to answer, Ollie merely butted his head against her chin and began to purr.
‘Chicken,’ Natalya decided as she extracted the appropriate tin, removed the seal, spooned the contents into the cat dish and placed it on Ollie’s food mat. ‘There you go.’
Her apartment was one of two situated in a large two-level converted family home in an exclusive bayside suburb overlooking a sweeping promenade bordered by a stand of tall Norfolk pine trees along the seafront.
Inherited from her maternal grandmother three years ago, the home rested high on a sloping hill with sweeping views over the bay and neighbouring suburbs.
Renovated into two beautifully decorated apartments, one of which she leased to a responsible tenant, the property represented a valuable investment, providing Natalya with a place where there were no memories of her shared time with Alexei to haunt her.
Except now he was back.
Food held no interest whatsoever, and she reached for the remote, activated the TV, checked local and international newscast, and scrolled through the host of programmes until she found something that might provide a distraction.
A night in was a conscious choice. Not that she was a social butterfly, although there were a few very good friends whose company she enjoyed...live theatre, movies, social events for worthy charity causes; lingering over a shared coffee, and there was a sports complex she frequently visited with an indoor swimming pool, and several large rooms hosting a variety of exercise equipment. None of which held immediate appeal.
She wanted out of her clothes, a leisurely shower, then she’d slip into something comfortable and carefully examine her copy of the employment contract in the unlikely event she’d discover a possible loophole.
An hour later she tossed the contract aside, aware there appeared no evident room to manoeuvre within the skilfully crafted legalese.
Food was a requisite, and having nibbled without appetite she settled into a comfortable chair and channel-surfed the TV for a while, noticed a much-viewed programme, only to discover it was a repeat episode she’d already seen.
What next? Phone a friend? Skype? Flip through the pages of a current magazine?
Indecision wasn’t one of her usual traits, so she decided to retire to bed with a good book. Ollie merely tilted his head in silent askance at this change in his mistress’s usual evening routine, and leapt onto the bed when it became apparent Natalya intended to settle in comfort.
Half an hour in, the written word failed to capture her complete attention, given her mind seemed intent on reliving events of the day.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on the story, Alexei’s image kept intruding, until she simply gave up, closed the bed lamp, and attempted to sleep...with no success whatsoever.
Emotional reflection eventually tipped her back into a place which transported her back six years to a time when she first met Alexei...at an end-of-year social gathering for employees of her father’s affiliate firm responsible for the manufacture of electronic components.
Tall, dark-haired and ruggedly attractive, he’d stood apart from the rest of the men present. For a heart-stopping moment she’d become acutely aware of every breath she took, unable to look away as he turned slightly as if drawn by her attention.
Dark gleaming eyes met her own, lingered, before returning to the young woman who clung to his side. Understandable, Natalya conceded, given he possessed the wow factor in spades.
She could, if she was so inclined, cross to his side and effect an introduction. Hadn’t she slowly circled the room achieving the social etiquette required of the boss’s daughter separately, and at her mother’s side, as the evening progressed?
Except she’d been forestalled by one of her father’s foremen, intent on introducing his son, and when she moved on the object of her attention was nowhere in sight.
Shame, she mused, aware she’d probably never see him again.
Yet she did, days later, when she entered a suburban supermarket to purchase a few groceries needed to replenish her fridge and pantry. And there he was, in the same aisle. Their eyes met, and they both exchanged a smile at the coincidence, whereupon Alexei introduced himself, and Natalya did likewise. Coffee, the universal suggestion, worked, and led to conversation and the exchange of phone numbers.
What followed rose to the surface, intact and in glorious Technicolor...a relationship so special, caring, so attuned to each other there had been no need for words. Just the touch of his hand, the warmth of his smile, dear heaven, his mouth as it possessed her own. The hard strength of his body, aroused emotions taking them both to a place where they existed in a sensual world of their own. Erotic, exquisite, mind-blowing.
A time when she’d felt so happy...so alive, in mind, body, and soul. Sure in her heart they were destined to share a life together.
Only to wake one morning to find herself alone in her flat, no explanatory note, only a brief text message on her cell phone later in the day indicating little, and not followed up at all.
‘The number you are dialling has been disconnected’, a disembodied robot had intoned, sending her reeling with alarm. Worse, the crushing news he no longer worked at her father’s electronics plant.
Five years, with no satisfactory explanation.
For all she knew he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth, followed by months of her agonising why. Ultimately, the realisation he didn’t want to be found.
Now he was back. Not the man she’d once known and imagined she’d loved, but a hard, resolute stranger bent on revenge—no holds barred. Bent on destroying her father, using her as a tool.
Blackmail...no other word suited as well.
She wanted to hit out...verbally, physically.
Silently didn’t begin to cut it.
Getting physical, however, did.
First up, her apartment, which she cleaned to within a whisker of perfection.
A long session at the local squash centre expended excess energy, and there was a certain satisfaction in continuously slamming a ball against the wall, especially as she mentally imposed Alexei’s body centre front and deliberately aimed to hit target every time.
Revenge of sorts for his physical image which had entered uninvited in dream form throughout the night, providing vivid memories she assured herself she’d long forgotten.
And knew she lied.
‘Why so aggressive?’
Oh, hell.
Natalya
