turned to leave, and he waited until she reached the door before relaying with drawled intent, ‘I strongly suggest you change your mind.’
He watched her shoulders stiffen, their slight lift as she took a calming breath before she swung back to face him.
With determined effort she took in his sculptured facial features accented by scrupulously groomed designer stubble...impossibly sexy, highlighting a raw edgy quality she found disturbing.
Dark eyes...not warm as she remembered, but cool, analytical. The faint groove bracketing each cheek seemed a little deeper, and the mouth which had caressed her own, devoured and taken, was now set in firm lines.
His shoulders...had they been so broad? His hair, so silky she’d exulted in ruffling it into disorder. Matching the dark promise in his eyes, a soft throaty chuckle an instant before he claimed her mouth, her heart...her soul.
Then.
Not now...and it rankled more than she would ever admit to how much the admission had the power to hurt.
She was over him. Way over.
Alexei Delandros belonged in a previous chapter of her life. One she had absolutely no intention of revisiting. Only a degree of stubborn pride ensured she remained facing him...when every cell in her body urged she should simply turn and leave. So why didn’t she?
Because it was the easy way out. And she didn’t do easy.
Like she’d even consider working for the man who had ruthlessly set out to destroy her father’s business empire?
Natalya lifted her chin and threw him a fulminating glare. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you can take your employment contract and shove it.’
She was either a very good actress, Alexei conceded, or she genuinely had no inkling of the verbal bombshell he was about to deliver.
‘You might consider leaving your options open.’
Her eyes never left his own. Dignity and sarcasm didn’t mesh, but she really didn’t care. ‘Please don’t hesitate to enlighten me as to why?’
Family values had been her strong point. One he’d admired...until he’d dug deep into her father’s business and private affairs and uncovered a number of discrepancies revealing the antithesis of the man Roman Montgomery managed to portray.
Had Natalya been aware of her father’s transgressions? Possibly not, given Roman’s penchant for subterfuge.
There was no point in sugar-coating the facts, nor did he feel inclined to soften his words.
‘My accounting team have uncovered an elaborate scheme involving several bogus offshore accounts created by your father for the illegal transfer of Montgomery company funds.’
Alexei watched her eyes sharpen with disbelief. ‘There’s no way my father would commit fraud.’
It was a gut reaction and, on the surface, genuine, he perceived. Although she’d managed to fool him in the past.
‘You’re so sure of that?’
‘I’d stake my life on it,’ Natalya voiced emphatically, ignoring the folder Alexei extended towards her.
‘I suggest you examine the paperwork.’
‘And if I choose not to?’
He studied her features as she ran a pale lacquered nail over the folder’s seam, noted the soft pink colouring of her cheeks, the defensive spark in the depths of her eyes, and for a brief moment he almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
‘The report details dates, account numbers, the series of complicated layers deliberately created to prevent detection.’
Natalya cast him a withering look, only to witness it had no effect whatsoever, and she tossed the report, unread, onto his desk.
‘You can’t be serious.’
The silence became an almost palpable entity as she refused to shift her gaze. Difficult, when a host of conflicting thoughts swirled through her mind.
If...and in her opinion it was a vastly improbable if...the report held a grain of accuracy, the question had to be what Alexei intended to do with it.
At best the details would reveal any fraud had occurred without her father’s knowledge.
At worst...she wasn’t prepared to give that thought any credibility.
‘Read the report.’
Only a fool would fail to recognise the steely intent beneath his silky drawl, and she shot him a baleful glare as she picked up the proffered folder and flipped aside the covering page.
The first thing she noted was the name of the firm who’d compiled the data...and recognised it as one of the foremost sources well known worldwide for its excellent reputation.
Why did she have the instinctive feeling the goal posts had suddenly undergone a subtle shift, when it was she who’d determined to maintain control during this brief...very brief encounter?
A small ball of tension manifested itself in the region of her mid-section, and she took a calming breath before she began skimming the range of figures, dates, only to slow down as growing alarm escalated with each turn of the page. Detailed entries tracking each amount as it passed through an elaborate tracery of accounts.
A trail initiated by direct instructions from Roman Montgomery.
Amounting to millions of dollars.
Natalya felt as if she needed to sit down, and she froze for a few heart-stopping seconds as reality hit home.
If the report was brought to the notice of relevant authorities, her father would face restitution, penalties incurred for tax evasion, and probable jail time.
It was beyond belief.
She lifted her head and looked at Alexei with undisguised incredulity for a few unguarded seconds, before reassembling her features into a taut mask as realisation hit.
‘There’s more.’
Natalya’s eyes flashed dark fire as they fixed on his own. ‘How can there be more?’
Alexei reached behind him, collected a second folder from his desk and handed it to her.
Her reluctance to examine the contents was apparent, and he watched in silence as her shoulders stiffened before she turned her attention to the written details, the photographs, and caught the moment irrefutable proof led to the only possible conclusion.
Roman Montgomery led a double life and had been doing so for many years.
There was an apartment in Paris, occupied by a mistress. A London apartment in fashionable Notting Hill housed a second mistress. Each of whom were maintained by Roman, whose visits coincided over the years with so-called business trips to both cities.
Deeds
