Alexei's Passionate Revenge. Helen Bianchin

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Alexei's Passionate Revenge - Helen Bianchin Mills & Boon Modern

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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 closed her eyes, then opened them again as she turned towards her squash partner and endeavoured to catch her breath.

      ‘There has to be a reason.’

      Aaron offered her a penetrating look. ‘Spill.’

      One of the pitfalls of a good friendship being they knew each other too well.

      Initially they’d met at a social gathering hosted by her father. A partner in a prominent law firm and the eldest son of a wealthy family, Aaron was sophisticated, charming and considered to be a very good catch in the matrimonial stakes. Only a chosen few knew he maintained a relationship with a long-term same-sex partner.

      ‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Natalya assured him as they emerged from the court.

      Aaron read her better than most, a good friend who’d provided unstinting support when she’d needed it most.

      Such as now, when his teasing anecdotes would do much to help lighten the dark mood threatening to destroy her composure.

      ‘Share dinner with me this evening.’ The invitation was tempting, yet she hesitated as she collected a towel from the neatly folded stack adjacent the locker rooms.

      ‘I’ll make a reservation and collect you at seven.’ His smile held a tinge of humour. ‘Enlighten me or not, your choice.’

      She didn’t, because she couldn’t bear to drag into the open how deeply Alexei’s presence affected her. Or revive memories too breathtakingly real to share.

      Instead they kept the conversation light, touching on the ordinary, and simply enjoyed fine food, a little wine, and the relaxed benefit of good friendship.

      It was a pleasant evening, and Natalya thanked him as he deposited her outside the entrance to her home.

      Surprisingly she slept well and woke early, pulled on a Lycra body suit, added a singlet top, affixed earbuds to channel music and took her customary morning run...at a more gruelling pace than was her norm.

      Following a shower, she dressed, munched on an apple as she collected keys, shouldered her bag and drove to the nearest mall to stock up on essentials.

      As she drove to her parents’ home later that day to share Sunday lunch she couldn’t help but silently question what was real, as opposed to what had been a superbly acted sham on her father’s part, given he’d managed to fool her so well. There were no incidents she could recall to indicate her parents’ marriage had been anything other than a devoted union. There had been the odd private meeting while in London when her presence as his PA was not required. Likewise Paris.

      The knowledge refreshed memories of her father taking time out for a relaxing massage. Personal shopping time. The supposed private business meetings he attended alone.

      How naive had she been?

      Worse, did her mother suspect?

      Doubtful, given Roman had provided the perfect cover by employing Natalya as his PA, ensuring his daughter accompanied him to interstate and overseas business meetings.

      A string of silent castigations didn’t come close to easing the anger she felt at her father’s deceit. There was a part of her that wanted to confront him, rail her fists against his chest and demand to know how he could have put his marriage, dammit, his life, in jeopardy by such selfish careless actions.

      Play nice, Natalya cautioned as she eased her car into the driveway leading to her parents’ modern home set in beautifully tended grounds.

      Smile, chat, and pretend nothing has changed.

      Except it had, and the conscious effort to maintain a façade affected her appetite.

      It was during dessert the question arose regarding her future plans.

      ‘Darling,’ Ivana broached with interest. ‘Are you going to take a break before applying for another position?’

      Oh, my. Evade the issue, or aim for the partial truth? It had to be the latter...

      ‘No break, unfortunately,’ she managed with a credible smile.

      ‘Really?’ Disappointment was apparent in her mother’s voice. ‘I was hoping we might share some girl time. Lunch, shop. Book a massage, facial, mani-pedi.’

      ‘Who will you be working for?’ Roman queried, direct and to the point, as ever.

      There was no easy way to break the news, other than to make the truth as simple as possible...then wait for the inevitable fallout.

      Natalya met her father’s narrowed gaze with outward calm. ‘The ADE Conglomerate.’

      His eyes hardened, so did the tone of his voice. ‘You intend to work for the firm who bought me out?’

      Natalya chose not to remind him that technically the bank had foreclosed.

      ‘Is that a problem?’

      Roman’s features darkened. ‘You’re aware of the CEO’s identity?’

      ‘My interview was conducted by a legal representative.’ Initially it had been, and not precisely an untruth.

      The media presses would run overnight for newspapers delivered at dawn. In a matter of hours the news would become public knowledge.

      ‘Alexei Delandros is ADE Conglomerate.’

      ‘Delandros?’ Roman’s face grew dark with a mixture of anger and disbelief. ‘Alexei Delandros? What the hell are you thinking?’

      Of my mother... Except the words never left her lips. Instead she lifted her chin a little and met his anger with determined spirit.

      ‘He made an offer I couldn’t refuse.’ The truth...just not all of it.

      Dark, almost black eyes hardened, and she saw his mouth thin to an ominous line as he made a visible attempt to rein in his wrath. ‘How could you even consider working for Delandros?’

      Because there’s no alternative.

      ‘In what position?’ The demand was palpable.

      With no easy way to break the news...except tell it as it was. ‘PA.’

      Roman regarded her with disbelief for several long seconds, then he slammed a fist onto the table, sending crockery rattling in protest. ‘I’m calling my lawyer.’

      ‘Who’ll only confirm the contract was signed without duress and therefore legally valid.’

      A telling

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