The Ruthless Magnate’s Virgin Mistress

‘Get Sveta to draw up a list of subjects I must avoid…otherwise it’s likely to be an endurance test of a fortnight!’ Abbey muttered feelingly, cut off by his attitude. ‘You react like offended royalty.’

Nikolai showered, angrily recalling the fact that he had planned to take her into the shower with him, but now she had spoilt the mood with her nosy questions. Offended royalty? His nostrils flared. He was not that spoilt or that far removed from ordinary people. How could he be when he had once known what it was to go hungry and cold? But then, how could Abbey have known what not to say when she had no idea of what his background was? His own curiosity had made him plunder her private life for answers without hesitation, he conceded grimly.

Tears flooded Abbey’s eyes all too easily. She knew she was being over-sensitive, but it had been a long and emotionally exhausting day. The last thing she needed just then was the discovery that she had become intimate with a guy ready to freeze her out for the most minor infraction of his rules.

Without warning, the bathroom door shot open again to frame Nikolai’s big powerful frame in the doorway. With wet black hair plastered to his well-shaped skull, he was dripping water everywhere. ‘Join me in the shower and I’ll tell you what you want to know, lubimaya moya.’

An involuntary smile drove the tension from her compressed mouth. She wondered if he thought that more sex was the answer to every problem and reckoned that he was basic enough to think that. But she was determined not to blow hot and cold, as he had put it, and, having committed herself to a course, she was not one to turn back. She got out of bed and although it was a challenge for her to walk naked across the depth of that room in front of him, she did it with her head held high.

‘I love your body,’ Nikolai husked in reward as he snatched her up off her feet and carried her into the shower with him.

His powerful uncompromising masculinity stirred Abbey beyond bearing. She linked her hands round his neck and stretched up and he accepted her invitation with passionate force, crushing her ripe pink mouth beneath the hungry demand of his. That fast, that easily, Nikolai lit a fire of longing inside her again. His rigid erection butted against her belly and he lifted her with easy strength, his hands cupping her hips as he held her over him. ‘So much for the shower I was promised,’ Abbey muttered.

‘I can’t stop wanting you,’ Nikolai growled and something of his surprise and resentment of that apparent fact was etched in his lean hard-boned features. ‘I have you once and it’s not enough.’

And she wondered why she was complaining when she liked that, when indeed she gloried in having that power over him. He was kissing her with ravenous desire when he tumbled her down on top of the towels he had thrown on the floor. But just as he established her readiness, he released her again with a groan of impatience and vaulted upright to return to the bedroom. ‘I need protection…’

Even as her restive hips pressed against the hard floor below her, seeking some form of relief from the tormenting ache he had roused, she appreciated the fact that he wasn’t taking any risks. When he returned to her he found the taut jut of her nipples and the slick wet heat between her thighs with his mouth and his skilful hands and reduced her to honeyed, purring compliance before sliding over her and sinking into her and introducing her to the wickedly exquisite pleasure all over again. In the aftermath of satiation, he kept her close and she shut her eyes, so tired and drained she was ready to sleep.

‘I don’t know who my mother is. I don’t even know her name. I know nothing about her,’ he admitted gruffly.

Her eyes stung with tears of emotion, her heart swelling with sympathy on his behalf and understanding of why he preferred not to discuss his background. ‘That must be very tough for you,’ she said in a wobbly voice.

Nikolai lifted his tousled dark head and looked down at her and saw the sheen of moisture on her cheeks. Shocked that she was distressed on his behalf, he stroked her cheekbone in a soothing gesture. ‘I’m a tough guy. I’m used to it.’

‘Were you an abandoned baby?’

Nikolai shook his head. ‘No. My grandfather chose to take me on. He was a diplomat and he had to be inventive in how he registered my birth when he took me back into the Soviet Union. The name on my birth certificate was a fake and he told me that when I was a kid, and that he would explain everything when I was old enough to understand. Unluckily for me he died very suddenly and he took the secret to the grave with him.’

Abbey marvelled that his father had not been prepared to fill in the gaps for him and only then understood just how bleak his experience of family ties must have been as a child. ‘It doesn’t matter who brought you into the world-it’s who you are now that’s important,’ she told him chirpily.

‘What a great thought for the day!’ Nikolai mocked, gazing down at her and noticing how translucent and pale her skin was and how shadowed her eyes were. ‘You’re exhausted.’

‘Hmm…’ Abbey mumbled and she didn’t remember another thing until she woke up the next morning to the distinctive and familiar sound of her mobile phone ringing.

‘Ignore it,’ Nikolai urged, his arms tightening round her.

Abbey was warm and unbelievably comfortable. She wanted to snuggle, not move away, but her conscience was twanging.

‘I can’t ignore it. It’s probably Caroline. I was upset when I left her last night.’ With a rueful sigh, Abbey snaked away from Nikolai and scrambled up.

Her phone was in her clutch bag, which she had left lying on the dressing table the night before. As she had assumed, the call that she had missed had been from her sister-in-law. Calling Caroline back only took a moment. As it was still only six-thirty in the morning she was surprised that the subject was work-related. Evidently, however, Mr bin Hashim, the Middle Eastern banker who owned the house she was trying to acquire for Nikolai, had tried to contact her the night before to arrange an early meeting with her that very morning. It was imperative that she did not miss that appointment and offend the man.

‘I’ve got an appointment and I haven’t even got any clothes to wear!’ Abbey exclaimed, and then stared in horror at her reflection in a wardrobe mirror for her hair was a fluffy nest of wildly messy curls.

‘I’ll send out for clothes for you. I want you to stay and have breakfast with me.’

‘I can’t. This is work,’ she responded in a tone of urgent appeal.

‘I’m holding a massive party here tomorrow night and you’re going to be my hostess. Isn’t that work as well?’ Nikolai traded unanswerably.

‘This is a very important appointment,’ Abbey groaned.

Nikolai was already using the phone by the bed to rap out instructions in Russian. He held out a shapely brown hand. ‘Come back to bed…’

Abbey went pink and averted her attention from him. She was as stiff as a board and walking was a challenge. ‘I couldn’t…er…comfortably,’ she told him awkwardly.

Comprehension lit Nikolai’s keen gaze as he registered that he had been too demanding. ‘I’ll settle for just holding you, lubimaya.’

‘Even if I can’t stay for breakfast?’ Abbey was already yanking a comb with painful strokes through her hair in the bathroom.

‘If you don’t I’ll be angry.’

Within half an hour a brand-new outfit was delivered to the bedroom and she was able to don the black trouser suit and blue silk shirt quickly. Nikolai, magnificent in a navy pinstripe business suit worn with a fashionable dark shirt and light tie, accompanied her down to the main hall. ‘I’ll see you at eleven in my office,’ he told her drily. ‘If you don’t show, I’m sacking you.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Nikolai,’ Abbey began in frustration. ‘Don’t be so unreasonable-’

‘Polite requests are wasted on you,’ Nikolai countered, dark eyes hard as granite.

His manservant was in the act of letting Sveta in through the front door. The beautiful elegant blonde strolled in with a business case and greeted them both. Abbey was hugely embarrassed to be found in Nikolai’s apartment at that hour of the day, a sensation that was not dimmed by the obvious tension in the air that she could see the other woman picking up on.

‘I’ll see you later,’ she told Nikolai in a rush, reluctant to say anything more personal with an audience present and even more reluctant to confide that when she said later, she meant very much later.

Sveta said something in Russian and Nikolai translated. ‘The paparazzi are waiting outside in droves.’

Abbey’s face turned a dulled red. The very idea of advertising the reality that she had spent the night with