The Platinum Collection. Maisey Yates

feat and him and his vast Georgian home and even larger staff there if she had a job to go to every day. She had had to ask herself which was more important: her pride and independence or her love. And love had won because when Kat wasn’t being tormented by her various sisters’ awkward questions about her relationship with Mikhail, she was deliriously happy, certainly much happier than she had ever thought she could be. He was the sun, the moon and the stars for her, but she knew that she had to accept that outside the bounds of marriage many such relationships eventually came to an end.

      Her phone buzzed. It was Mikhail.

      ‘Meet me at the office and we’ll go for lunch, milaya moya,’ he suggested huskily, his dark deep drawl sending a responsive tremor down her spine.

      Kat smiled into the phone, delighted that he was so eager to see her. He had stayed in his city apartment the night before and she had missed him. Possibly he had missed her as well, she reasoned with satisfaction, for otherwise he would have been willing to wait until he got back to the hall later that evening to see her.

      Emmie gave her a stern look. ‘He owns you … that’s what I don’t like.’

      Kat’s eyes widened in dismay. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

      ‘You’re like … addicted to him,’ Emmie pronounced with unhidden distaste and disapproval. ‘Even Topsy noticed that weekend she stayed with you that when Mikhail enters the room, you can’t see anyone else but him.’

      ‘I do love him and I don’t think it does Topsy any harm to see that I care deeply for the man I’m living with,’ Kat said gently, wishing she knew more about the background to Emmie’s pregnancy, for with every week that passed Emmie seemed to be becoming more of a man hater.

      A limo whisked Kat to Mikhail’s London headquarters. She was accompanied by Ark, Stas’ kid brother. Mikhail, from Kat’s point of view, appeared to be obsessed by the idea that she might be mugged or attacked and had insisted she accepted Ark’s presence when she was out in public. Only when she had recognised that that risk was a source of very genuine concern for him had she finally agreed, but she often felt sorry for Ark, reduced to hanging around bored while she shopped or sat gossiping over lengthy coffee sessions with her sisters.

      Mikhail was in a meeting when Kat arrived and she stowed her shopping by the wall and sat down in Lara’s office to wait while Ark hovered in the corridor.

      Lara glided across the room to greet her with a rather tight smile of welcome and bent down to study more closely the emerald pendant that Kat wore. ‘May I see it?’ the other woman prompted politely.

      Kat flushed with self-consciousness and nodded uneasy agreement as Lara minutely examined the emerald. She guessed that the other woman probably thought the pendant was far too ostentatious to wear out on a shopping trip and Kat could actually have agreed with her on that score. But the sticking point was how Mikhail felt about it. Mikhail loved to see Kat with the emerald round her neck and Kat wore it frequently to please him.

      ‘The jewel is magnificent,’ the gorgeous blonde commented thinly, overpowering envy souring her flawless features as she stepped back from her examination. ‘The word is that the boss has never spent so much on a gift for a woman—you must feel very pleased with yourself.’

      Kat’s fine brows pleated in surprise and she flung the blonde a startled glance, not quite sure if Lara could have meant that comment the way it had sounded. ‘No, that’s not how I feel. I’m just … happy,’ she breathed in a discomfited tone, offended at the suspicion that Lara could suspect that she might only be with Mikhail for his wealth.

      ‘Of course you’re happy. Why would you not be? Suka!’ Lara snapped sharply, at which point, unnoticed by either woman, Ark put his head round the door to peer into the room. ‘But I could tell you something that would wipe that smug smile right off your face!’

      No longer suffering the misapprehension that her understanding was at fault, Kat gave the younger woman a cool appraisal. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lara.’

      ‘Well, I will tell you whether you want to know or not!’ Lara practically spat the words at her. ‘Remember that night before you were supposed to leave the yacht? Mikhail spent that night with me … that’s how little you matter to him!’

      The blood drained from Kat’s face. Suddenly her skin felt clammy and the palms she had pressed to the handbag on her lap felt damp. For a moment she could not even make sense of what the other woman was saying and only knew that she was being verbally attacked. Just as quickly she was recalling that night that she had spent alone and sleepless and she was also recalling Mikhail’s knock on her door. Her tummy lurched in stricken protest.

      ‘Didn’t you realise that he slept with me as well?’ Lara queried, lifting a scornful brow at such apparent stupidity. ‘He always has. I don’t make demands on him. I’m always available …’

      Out of nowhere the strength returned to Kat’s rigid body and she leapt upright. She dragged her shattered gaze from the furious blonde and walked out of the door, ignoring the lift and Ark’s query to head for the stairs instead. She needed some time on her own to think about the bombshell Lara had delivered and what she would have to do about it. She fled down the fire stairs, flight after flight, heard Ark shout after her and kept on going, not wanting anyone to see or speak to her in the state she was in. Her hurrying feet took her straight out of the building and into the welcome and anonymous crush of the lunchtime crowds on the pavement.

      Her heart thudding so fast she was convinced she could hear it actually thumping in her ears, Kat walked at a smart pace with no destination in view. Only the fact that her high-heeled shoes had not been made for that amount of walking finally pierced her miasma of misery. Wincing at the sharp pinches of pain assailing her feet, Kat then headed into a café to get a seat. There she sat hunched over a cup of tea, as dazed as if her head had been struck in an accident. At that point she heard her phone ringing and she pulled it out, saw she had received about six missed calls from Mikhail and switched it off because she didn’t want to speak to him, didn’t have to speak to him, she consoled herself. She sat there a long time struggling to get the turmoil of her thoughts into some kind of rational order.

      Lara was an absolutely gorgeous-looking young woman, very glossy and sophisticated and exactly the sort of woman whom Kat had often secretly believed Mikhail should have chosen as a girlfriend in place of herself. Why would Lara tell such a lie? In fact, like it or not, the evidence suggested that Lara was telling the truth. Why? For the simple reason that Lara must have been with Mikhail that night to be so certain that he had not been with Kat. Every other night Kat and Mikhail had shared his suite but that one night, which Lara had chosen to mention, Kat had slept alone. Mikhail had had motive and opportunity. Had he taken advantage of it? Had he been carrying on a casual long-term affair with his PA even before he met Kat? She shuddered at the suspicion, sick with pain, jealousy and a growing sense of despair. How could she have been so wrong about the man she loved?

      Back at his office in the wake of the drama Kat’s sudden exit had caused, Mikhail was also thinking about bad choices and his expression was as hard as granite. In a crisis he was discovering that his strict policy of moderation in his relationship with Kat had a serious basic design flaw. Moderation had kicked him in the teeth when he least expected it: she wouldn’t even take a phone call from him. And now she was gone, lost, upset, maybe even upset enough to walk out in front of a bus or something stupid like that, he thought with a fear that had a ferociously aggressive edge unfamiliar to his usual self-discipline.

      Over her cooling tea, Kat realised that whatever she chose to do she had no choice other than to return first to Danegold Hall. Her passport, important documents, everything she couldn’t simply get by without was there. Feeling cold inside and out and fighting distress, Kat headed for the railway station. She might prefer to avoid Mikhail but she had to be practical as well and walking out on her life with him without forethought and planning wasn’t possible. In any case, if he had any sense at all, he would be equally keen to avoid the fallout from Lara’s revelation—that was assuming Lara admitted what she had done.