Russian's Ruthless Demand. Michelle Conder

for me? After the last one I hope it has a low alcoholic content.’ Especially since she couldn’t remember if her last meal had been lunch or breakfast or dinner the night before.

      She’d been running on adrenaline all day and guzzled coffee to keep herself going. Which was probably why she felt both buzzed and completely exhausted at the same time.

      Lulu leaned one svelte hip against the bar, enjoying the lull in what had been a madcap night. ‘I’m calling it “Don’t Poke the Bear.” Let me know what you think.’ She gave the icy bar another vigorous wipe. ‘But don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you should settle down.’ She gave a shiver as if the mere thought were horrifying and pulled her ski gloves back on. ‘But fun? Sex? When was the last time you went out on a date?’

      ‘Nineteen sixty-five,’ Eleanore deadpanned.

      Lulu laughed and pointed her cleaning rag at her. ‘I’d believe that. And it’s exactly my point. You need to get out more. Live a little.’ Having delivered her standard lecture she started lining up more shot glasses on the bar. ‘So where are your esteemed sisters anyway?’

      It wasn’t in Eleanore’s nature to be pessimistic but to assume they were stuck in traffic or sitting on the tarmac at the airport was even a stretch for her. ‘Busy.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Olivia is no doubt auditioning for some play somewhere and this whole drama of the Chatsfields trying to take us over seems to have consumed every one of Isabelle’s waking hours.’ And even now Eleanore could picture Isabelle holed up with the horrible Spencer Chatsfield in some argument.

      Probably Eleanore needed to be a little more understanding. Only it was hard to indulge her understanding side when she had been to almost every one of Olivia’s opening nights and every important event in Isabelle’s calendar.

      ‘Well, that’s good,’ Lulu said briskly. ‘It gives you time to play. And sex will definitely make you feel better.’

      Eleanore raised a brow and caught sight of her disgruntled expression in the mirrored wall behind the bar. She thought about texting Isabelle and then changed her mind. What was she going to say? That she was disappointed with her no-show? Her sister would likely frown and ask why. It wouldn’t occur to her that Eleanore had always felt like she was on the outside looking in. It wouldn’t occur to Isabelle that Eleanore questioned her place in the family because Isabelle was always so smart and successful and Olivia so beautiful and talented. And as for sex making her feel better…She rolled her eyes at Lulu’s suggestion. ‘So will a hot bath,’ she said. ‘And a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cookies and Cream.’

      Lulu waggled a dark eyebrow. ‘But can a hot bath give you a screaming orgasm and then make you a cup of hot cocoa afterward?’

      Eleanore sipped her cocktail. ‘If you’ve found a man who will make you a cup of anything after sex I suggest you keep him. Most of the stories I’ve heard are from women who are screaming at their man who rolls over straight after sex and goes to sleep—orgasm not guaranteed.’ Not that she had any personal experience with that. The timing, the opportunity and the desire to have sex just hadn’t come together for her yet.

      ‘Speaking of orgasms …’ Lulu’s voice lowered by about ten octaves. ‘Have a look at what the cat just dragged in.’ She leant her elbows on the bar. ‘A sexy, lonely businessman looking for some company for the night.’

      ‘He’s probably married.’ Eleanore glanced up at the mirror and caught a glimpse of cropped dirty-blond hair, a Viking-hard face and powerful shoulders encased in a heavy black cloak. His tall frame oozed power and authority and he scanned the room as if he were the next line of terminators come back from the past to decimate someone. He was also without a doubt the most striking man Eleanore had ever seen and then his blue eyes connected with hers and her stinky mood hit a new low.

      She knew him.

      ‘I think the ice bar is starting to melt,’ Lulu murmured, fanning her face with one of her ski gloves.

      ‘Don’t waste your breath,’ Eleanore advised. ‘He’s a complete jackass.’

      ‘You know him?’ Lulu’s tone was awestruck.

      ‘I know of him.’ Lukas Kuznetskov—billionaire businessman who guarded his privacy like a lion guards its pride and who was revered for being both enigmatic and ruthless. She’d only ever seen him in person one time at a fashion event she’d been lucky enough to score an invite to a year ago. He’d been dating the lead model at the time and he had reminded Eleanore of a peacock strutting around with her afterward. It had been a competition as to who had been the most beautiful. ‘He’s one of those superficial guys who are too good-looking and too wealthy for their own good.’

      ‘I’m not against superficial as long as it’s good in bed and something tells me that he is.’

      Eleanore glanced up and found him watching her. A strange sensation zinged through her body and her breathing was a little quick as she forced her attention back to Lulu. ‘Believe me, he’s so self-important he’d be too concerned with his own pleasure to worry about yours and you could forget that hot chocolate afterward. You’d be lucky to see the door close as he ran through it.’

      Lulu eyed her suspiciously. ‘You have a very strong opinion of him …’ She let her voice taper off and Eleanore knew what she was thinking. That she liked him. Nothing could be further from the truth. Two years ago, just before her father had passed away, he’d made a horribly disparaging comment about one of their hotels that had affected their brand for months afterward.

      ‘It’s not what you think,’ she said emphatically. ‘I can’t stand the man.’

      ‘Well, he’s definitely interested in you because he keeps looking this way.’ Lulu leaned across the bar. ‘I dare you to flirt with him.’

      ‘Oh, please,’ Eleanore scoffed. ‘He’s so obnoxious and self-important I’d rather flirt with a snake.’

      ‘I hope you don’t mean me, Miss Harrington.’

      Eleanore’s stomach dropped into her numb toes as she realised that Lulu’s position in front of her had blocked his approach in the mirrored wall and that she’d been clearing her throat for a reason.

      She glanced sideways and up and her heart stuttered inside her chest at his amused half smile. He didn’t believe she’d been talking about him at all. He was just trying to be charming.

      Wishing he didn’t know who she was she put on her professional face and decided to skip over his question. ‘Good evening. Welcome to Glaciers.’

      It was an automatic greeting rather than a sincere one but he didn’t seem smart enough to pick that up.

      ‘Thank you,’ he murmured in a voice designed for radio—or the bedroom. ‘You created this ice bar, I understand.’

      It wasn’t so much a question as a statement and Eleanore forced herself to focus on who he was and not how he looked or sounded. ‘Yes.’

      ‘It’s spectacular. Congratulations.’

      The way his gaze held hers made Eleanore’s breath quicken. He was the spectacular one. His eyes so blue it was like looking at a cloudless summer sky. Her eyes drifted over his face. Straight nose, high cheekbones and a carved jaw not even the hint of a beard growth could soften.

      No, he wasn’t spectacular, she amended silently. Spectacular was somehow too girlie for a man who reeked of power and authority. Someone so confidently male. Or maybe he just seemed that way because of the scar that cut through the edge of his left eyebrow as if someone had taken to him with a knife.

      ‘Cat got your tongue?’

      Maybe an ex-girlfriend, she thought churlishly as she realised she had been caught staring. She chugged down the last of Lulu’s lethal cocktail and composed herself. ‘Not at all,’

      she said smoothly. ‘I was just thinking about leaving.’

      ‘But