was reaching for her hand. She had a reactive, defensive, almost childish desire to hide her hands behind her back, so that he couldn’t touch her, such was her immediate and intense awareness of what any kind of physical intimacy between them might do to her. Was it only this morning that she had sworn to herself she was in control of her own reactions to him? How deluded she had been.
Dolores was watching her, waiting for her to shake Kiryl’s hand. Reluctantly she extended her own, shielding her eyes from his inspection as she did so, not wanting him to read the vulnerability she feared they would betray.
His hand engulfed hers, his fingers strong and warm, curling round it, holding it and her captive. Against her will her body remembered how he had held her the previous day, seeking out the pulse in her wrist and then …
Swallowing quickly against the heady fizz of sensual excitement rushing up inside her, she spoke. ‘Dolores tells me that you are considering becoming a donor to our charity.’ It was all Alena could manage to say. She must be sensible and mature. She must think not just first but only of her mother’s charity, and the debt of responsibility she owed it.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed increasing the tension she was already feeling when he went on, ‘I thought we could discuss the matter over lunch.’
‘I …’ On the point of saying that she had another engagement, Alena saw the hopeful and pleased look in the gaze Dolores had fixed on her, and remembered that she had told her CEO that she had a completely free day.
‘It would give me an opportunity to learn more about the charity and its work—and about your commitment to it. It would be a shame if you were unable to spare the time, as I shall be leaving the country very soon on business.’
Was he testing her? Daring to suggest that she wasn’t committed to her mother’s charity?
‘Yes, of course.’ She gave in, adding quietly, ‘I am free to have lunch with you.’
‘Excellent. I took the liberty of assuming your acceptance and have arranged things accordingly—if you are ready?’
Ready for what? A business lunch, or …? Stop thinking like that, Alena warned herself. She must think of this purely as a business exercise—a means by which she could show her half-brother that she was capable of controlling her inheritance. The fact that Kiryl could affect her so dangerously, so sensually, was a vulnerability she must conceal from both him and her brother.
‘Yes. Yes, I’m ready,’ she agreed, giving Dolores what she hoped was a calm and reassuring smile as Kiryl held open the boardroom door for her. She could see that Dolores looked relieved by her acceptance of Kiryl’s request that she have lunch with him. The CEO had indicated that Kiryl’s donation was likely to be an extremely generous and ongoing one, and one that they could not afford to risk losing.
To walk through the door she had, of course, to walk past him. The discreet scent of his cologne couldn’t mask the scent of him—at least not from her. Her body reacted immediately and intensely to it, her nipples rising into hard peaks of sexual arousal to push impatiently against the constriction of her pretty satin and lace bra. For a dangerous heartbeat she almost lifted her hand to cover her own betrayal, her face flooding with colour as she recognised how easily she could have given herself away.
What was it about this man and only this man that gave him the power to affect her as no other man had ever done? She could feel the wild, reckless surge of her own desire to know the answer to that question, and was equally aware of the far more cautious and conservative side of her nature that urged her not to get involved in a situation that instinct told her she could not control.
It was just a lunch she had agreed to, she reminded herself as Dolores escorted them both to the lift. Nothing more. And a business lunch at that. The fact that he was considering making a donation to her mother’s charity was merely a coincidence.
But, despite telling herself that, once they were alone inside the lift an impulse she couldn’t control had her asking shakily, ‘What made you choose my mother’s charity for your donation?’
The uncertainty in her voice, combined with the colour coming and going in her face, pleased Kiryl—although of course he was not going to let her see that. It confirmed what his male instincts had already told him, and that was that she was vulnerable to him as a woman. He liked that. He liked it very much indeed. It was time to play with her a little now—to unsettle and unnerve her whilst holding out a tiny piece of bait to tempt her closer.
‘You are taking it for granted that I will make a donation—even though I’m sure your CEO has made it clear to you that I am simply contemplating doing so. Isn’t that rather dangerous?’
Caught off-guard, Alena could only protest. ‘No. I mean, I wasn’t taking it for granted. I just meant … I was just curious about why you had chosen my mother’s charity.’
‘Were you? Or were you perhaps hoping that I had chosen it because of you? Because I wanted to … please you?’
‘No!’
The lift had come to a halt and the doors were opening. Hot-faced, Alena was glad of the fact that several other people were waiting to get in. Blindly she stepped out of the lift, her head down, feeling both embarrassed and exposed, stripped bare of her defences. She felt somehow as though he could see right through into the vulnerable heart of her. His penetrating green gaze was far too keen and astute. But then it had probably looked upon many women who had been as sensually aware of him as she was now. Many, many women. For her, though, all this was very new—taking her up to the heights and then plunging her down into the depths until she was so shaken up that she felt in danger of losing the power to reason.
Instinctively heading for the main doors to the building, she was brought to a halt when Kiryl reached for her arm, holding it in a firm grip and half turning her towards him. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the power of his male sensuality engulfing her. Like a force-field it surged round her, locked round her effortlessly, holding her captive.
‘I am considering your charity because of my own mother.’
His words were so unexpected that it took Alena several seconds to grasp their meaning. Her lungs greedily sucked in the air she had briefly denied them before she was able to question, ‘Your own mother?’
Good—he had her hooked now. But then, given what he knew about the close relationship she had had with her own parents—especially her mother—it had been a foregone conclusion as far as Kiryl was concerned that to bring his own mother into any conversation he had with her was bound to elicit both her interest and ultimately her sympathy. Right now, though, having piqued her interest, it was best to keep her guessing a little, so Kiryl shook his head.
‘This is not the time for such a discussion,’ he told her. ‘It is something better discussed over lunch. Do you mind riding back in a taxi? Only when I’m in London I prefer to use taxis rather than to have a car and driver following me around. I like the freedom it gives me.’
‘No,’ Alena assured him, forced into a small self-conscious half-laugh as she admitted, ‘I love London taxis. And I’d much rather use them than have a car and driver too.’ She pulled a small face. ‘Vasilii doesn’t understand that, and doesn’t really approve.’
It was a small thing to know that he too loved the freedom that being in London gave her. A small thing, and yet immediately it made her feel more relaxed in his company—as
