His Last Chance at Redemption. Michelle Conder

of oblivion to push aside the memory of five of his men being buried alive in an accident on one of his construction sites, and the agony of lifting mountains of cement and steel alongside rescue crews all week to get to them.

      They’d reached two in time; the other three were gone. Just like his uncle seventeen years earlier.

      Leo’s mouth pulled tight as he wound his way through the ‘beautiful people’ who cast covert glances from behind their crystal glasses.

      Usually he loved his life. Proclaimed the richest man in Russia, with enough super toys to fill any action flick, a surfeit of women clamouring to warm his bed and a business he loved—he was understandably riding high. Today he’d almost welcome being back at the end of his father’s belt than return to work.

      And really he shouldn’t have been rude to Tiffany Tait. It wasn’t her fault she bored him. He chose that type of woman for a reason—physical gratification and lack of emotional connection. If he was getting bored with eye candy he’d just have to get over himself.

      Thirty minutes later and feeling marginally better now that the restaurant ordeal was over he stalked through his outer office and told his new secretary to get Danny—immediately.

      Still nervous of him, she cleared her throat before speaking. ‘He’s already waiting for you, Mr Aleksandrov.’

      ‘Leo,’ he corrected her, pushing open his office door and striding inside.

      ‘If you ever send me to a poncy restaurant again instead of a private suite when I tell you I want to get laid I’ll fire you.’

      ‘It’s her birthday,’ Danny replied smoothly.

      Leo dropped into his leather-and-chrome chair and surveyed the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk in his absence.

      ‘I don’t care if it’s her last day on earth. We both would have had a better time in a bed. Send her another something from somewhere, would you?’ He picked up a stock market report and scowled. Bloody volatile fear-driven markets. When would people learn not to react to every flicker of the sun’s rays as if it was about to go out?

      ‘You were rude, then?’

      Leo didn’t look up. ‘It’s possible.’

      He heard Danny sigh. ‘I was about to call you back anyway. You have bigger problems to contend with right now.’

      Leo went still at his EA’s ominous tone. Bohze, not another site problem.

      He didn’t ask, just waited for Danny to continue. But instead of saying anything, Danny handed him a pink sheet of paper with tiny coloured flowers dotted along the top.

      Leo read the brief message and his foul mood plummeted.

      ‘You’re not serious?’

      ‘It seems so. I haven’t been able to reach her by phone.’

      ‘Have you had Security try to track her down?’

      ‘They’re on it but no luck so far. She says she’s heading to Spain.’

      ‘I can read.’

      A heavy silence fell between them and Leo scanned the note once again to make sure he hadn’t been mistaken.

      Then he leaned back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his muscles bunch but not release. He crumpled the pink paper in his fist and lobbed it across the room. ‘How many hours do we have?’

      ‘Two. The childcare centre closes at five.’

      Leo swore under his breath and jerked to his feet.

      ‘It’s only for the long weekend. She’ll be back on Monday,’ Danny added, highlighting the only positive in the message.

      Leo stared out of his office window and watched the London Eye do a lazy circuit in the glittering summer sunshine. The wharf was a hive of teeming tourists probably spending more money than they had and he’d gladly hand over half of his vast fortune to any one of them if they could solve his current problem.

      Four years ago he’d met a young model at Brussels Airport when all flights had been grounded due to inclement weather. Leo hadn’t even thought twice about it. Beautiful, more-than-willing woman, long night. It made sense.

      Her wanting to get pregnant to a rich stranger still didn’t. The woman in question had been on the hunt for a rich husband instead of a rich career and had deliberately used a tampered condom. Three months later she’d come to him and told him the ‘good’ news.

      She’d been hoping for a ring. What she’d got was a house and a monthly allowance once paternity had been confirmed.

      Leo wasn’t father material. He had blood running through his veins he had never intended to pass on. The fact that this model—Amanda Weston—had duped him had made him crazy. After the fog had cleared and logic had returned he’d done the honourable thing. He’d covered all her financial expenses and made her promise to keep the boy as far away from him as possible. He might have inadvertently given someone life but he wasn’t about to completely stuff it up by being part of the child’s life as well.

      Recollections of his own childhood danced at the edges of his mind like circus performers wielding brightly coloured batons with which to prod him. First the death of three of his men had reminded him of the horrendous circumstances surrounding his beloved uncle’s death and now the prospect of having to care for his three-year-old son was bringing up even worse memories. His mother. His father. His brother.

      With ruthless determination Leo banished his memories and refocused on the one thing he could trust. Work.

      He turned back to Danny. ‘What’s happening with the Thessaly ethanol plant?’

      ‘So, you still haven’t said. Are you going to Paris this weekend with Simon, or not?’

      Lexi stopped trying to put the wheel back on a broken toy truck and looked over at her best friend and business partner, Aimee Madigan.

      Aimee had one eye on the group of kids enjoying free play at the Little Angels childcare centre they had started together two years ago and the other on the yarn she was carefully winding back into a ball. ‘And please don’t tell me you have to work,’ her friend added with a sense of resigned certainty.

      Lexi grimaced. She was supposed to be heading to Paris for the long weekend with a guy she’d been seeing casually for two months. And no doubt Simon would expect their relationship to advance to the next stage—sex—but Lexi wasn’t convinced that was such a good idea.

      She had let herself be worn down by a man’s pursuit once before and the experience still left a bitter taste in her mouth. Only she didn’t really want to be worn down. The truth was, her life was wonderful as it was; she’d let herself be weakened once before by a man’s pursuit and the experience still left a bitter taste in her mouth. ‘You know the second centre is at a crucial stage of the planning. If I don’t get the loan approved in the next week or so, we won’t have one.’

      ‘I take it things didn’t go so well then with Darth Vader this morning?’

      Lexi grinned at Aimee’s use of the pet moniker they had attributed to their hard-nosed bank manager and tried not to feel despondent. ‘He’s still got some concerns about how much the renovations are costing and some aspects of the business plan.’

      ‘I wish I could help you.’

      Lexi shook her head. ‘This is my area of the business and you do enough around here. I’ll sort it somehow.’

      Aimee stopped winding her wool and looked at Lexi as if she’d just had a great idea. ‘I know, maybe you could do that somewhere between the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre,’ she suggested, only half tongue-in-cheek.

      ‘Oh, yeah, I’m sure Simon would really love that!’ Lexi laughed.

      ‘Well, he is shelling