The Power of Vasilii. PENNY JORDAN

      The swift aching hardening of his body brought Vasilii abruptly back to reality, away from the dangerous place that his angry thoughts were taking him—in more ways than one.

      Thankfully the punishment he wanted to inflict on Laura Westcotte had only been within the privacy of his own thoughts. Naturally he had retained enough sanity not to move so much as a centimetre closer to her, never mind actually touch her—despite the anger she had aroused within him with her obviously deliberately faked attempt to get under his skin by pretending that she was horrified at the thought of his touch. A woman like her would be adept at manipulating situations to suit her own needs. No doubt she had hoped to provoke him into desire for her after the way he had warned her off. Unfortunately for her she had failed. But at least he had her full measure now that he had himself fully under control, and he would ensure that that control was never compromised again.

      As he stepped back from her, though, Vasilii knew that he now had another reason for not wanting to have Laura as his PA. Another reason not to want her. But he had no choice but to take her on.

      It was a very galling reality to have to acknowledge, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he told her coldly, ‘There is no time to lose. My negotiations are at a very critical stage. I have an employment contract here ready for you to sign. Once it is signed I have a résumé of the history of the negotiations so far for you to study, so that you will be up to speed with what has happened.’

      ‘I shall need to know something of the future of your plans, as well as the past,’ Laura felt bound to point out.

      Now was not the time to allow herself to dwell on the way she had felt when Vasilii had come towards her as though he was going to touch her. It was because she hadn’t wanted him to touch her, that was all. Not because she had. The very idea was … The very idea was unthinkable.

      Taking a deep breath, she continued firmly, ‘As you know yourself, Chinese negotiations are very delicate. The wrong pause between words, never mind the wrong look or the use of the wrong word, can set things back far more than we would expect in the West. I know that when someone new joins a negotiating team the instinct is to keep them a little out of the loop facts-wise, until they’ve proved themselves, but in this instance—’

      ‘I shall be briefing you myself on those aspects of the negotiations tomorrow afternoon, when we shall be flying out to meet the Chinese, once I have assured myself that you have the correct grasp on what has already happened.’

      Laura nodded her head. She was very professional when it came to her work, and she had no qualms about her ability to absorb the facts she would need to know.

      ‘Which part of China are we flying to? I only ask because I’ll need to pack appropriately.’

      ‘We aren’t flying to China. We’re flying to Montenegro. Wei Wong Zhang, the head of the company with whom I am in negotiation to work alongside in the development of new modern shipping container ports, has expressed a wish to visit Montenegro. He has other business interests in the potential development of tourist and leisure complexes on China’s coast. In the party of officials who are attending will be Wei Wong Zhang’s wife, Wu Ying, as well, of course, as the usual government officials and translators. In addition a nephew of Wei Wong Zhang, Gang Li, will also be a member of the party. Gang Li’s mother was Chinese-American and he was educated in America. He is very close to his uncle. All the indications are that Gang Li is being groomed to take over the business at some stage. There is, in fact, a suggestion that he might be Wei Wong Zhang’s son—although officially that cannot be mentioned and will certainly never be recognised.

      ‘The success of these negotiations has far-reaching consequences for my business that go well beyond the immediacy of this contract. My way of doing business and my status within the business community within China will be judged on my success with this contract. Winning it will by its very nature open doors to further investment in and business with Chinese partners. My PA has prepared a list of the officials who will be accompanying the family to Montenegro. The plan put forward by Wei Wong Zhang, through Gang Li, is that a smaller group than the large entourage he intends to bring with him can be formed to allow for more informal and thus more productive meetings to bring our negotiations to a mutually satisfactory conclusion.’

      ‘The Chinese are past masters of polite and creative delaying tactics, should they want to employ them,’ Laura felt bound to point out.

      ‘Yes. That had occurred to me. It will be part of your role to ensure that the use of such tactics is kept under control. As for clothes—just bring a few basics. I’ve already ordered a suitable wardrobe for you, which will be waiting at our destination. I shall require you to be here tomorrow for eleven-thirty in the morning.’

      Vasilii had turned his back on her to walk over to his desk before Laura could so much as acknowledge her understanding of the information he had just given her, never mind make her natural objections to his highhanded behaviour with regard to her working wardrobe, or tell him that she didn’t like the way he had been so sure of her acceptance that he had already given instructions with regard to her clothes.

      Only self-respect was one thing. Wilfully prejudicing the job she so badly needed if she was to be able to continue to help her aunt was another. Her aunt had sacrificed a great deal to bring her up. Sacrificing her pride now in order to help her was the least she could do.

      It wasn’t that the concept of an employer requiring a certain standard of dress was something new to her, or something to which she objected. She’d had a clothes allowance with her previous job. The thought of someone else actually choosing those clothes, though—especially when that someone else was Vasilii—sent prickles of a sensation she did not like trembling down her spine. Even worse than that—humiliatingly so, in fact—were the sudden unexpected and unwanted images which had produced themselves inside her head of delicate and very sensual silk and satin wisps of underwear.

      Such images were highly inappropriate. The clothes that Vasilii had selected for her would be work clothes. It could only be because she had walked past a couple of exclusive lingerie shops on her way here this morning that those images had somehow lodged inside her head. No other reason. Vasilii Demidov might be the kind of man who had the style and the good taste to buy his lovers the kind of underwear that women loved, but she was most certainly not the kind of woman he would ever want as one of those lovers. Nor did she want to be.

      ‘Here is the information you will need, and here is your contract.’

      Vasilii had turned round, and now her face started to burn. Get a grip, Laura warned herself as she took the papers he had put down on the coffee table within her reach but without touching her. Another unwanted stab of emotion pricked at her heart.

      She knew his opinion of her. She knew he didn’t like her or trust her. Everything about his manner towards her now that she had actually met him revealed him as a man who was corrosively antagonistic and nothing like the white knight she had fantasised about as a girl. So, given that, why should she feel hurt and rejected because he was making it plain that he didn’t want any kind of physical contact with her?

      It was safer to lose herself in speed-reading the contract than to allow herself to dwell on finding a truthful answer to that question, Laura acknowledged with relief as she read and then reread the contract.

      As she had already known, the remuneration package was very generous, and with the added benefit of the bonus Vasilii had mentioned thrown in this six-month contract would give her the kind of financial security she needed. There would be a high price to pay for that financial security, though, Laura suspected. Not so much in the two hundred per cent dedication to her work which she knew Vasilii would demand, but in the cost to her pride and her self-respect in knowing that she was working for someone who disliked and despised her. Beggars could not be choosers, Laura reminded herself firmly. For her, right now, pride and self-respect were luxuries she could not afford. She needed this job.

      Reaching into her bag, she removed the expensive pen that John had given her on the anniversary of her first year of working for him. He had had her name inscribed on it, and she treasured it as the gift of faith