The Devil Wears Kolovsky. Carol Marinelli

      He headed for a desk, picked up a phone, ready to ring and blast at Reception to get someone up here. But the door opened again, and Zakahr stood, silently fuming, as a stunning blonde came in, wafting fragrance, carrying a large takeaway coffee.

      She walked past him to a small office off the main suite, put her drink on the desk, and gave him a quick ‘Sorry I’m late’ as she slipped off her jacket and turned the computer on. ‘I’m Lavinia,’ she added.

      ‘I know,’ Zakahr said, because he had seen her at his brother’s wedding on Saturday, and hers was a face men noticed and remembered. She had huge blue eyes and a tumble of blonde hair, achieving a look both glamorous and pretty—though Lavinia wasn’t looking anything like as amazing as she had at the wedding. There were dark smudges under her eyes, and an air of weariness about her that rather suggested she was more ready for bed than work.

      ‘Is this how you make a good first impression?’ Zakahr asked, used to groomed, beautiful staff members who faded into the background—not someone who burst into a room then pulled out a large magnifying mirror from her drawer and proceeded to put make-up on at her desk.

      ‘Give me two minutes,’ Lavinia said, unashamedly applying foundation and rather skillfully, Zakahr noticed, erasing all shadows from under her eyes, ‘and then I’ll make a good impression!’

      He couldn’t believe her audacity. ‘Where is the PA? ’

      ‘She got married on Saturday,’ Lavinia said.

      She was working on her eyes now, her brush loaded with grey. Given Zakahr had been at the wedding, she must have thought her response humorous, because she gave a little laugh at the end of her sentence. As she layered mascara, she told him the necessary truth.

      ‘The stand-in that Kate trained left in tears on Friday and said she was never coming back.’

      She wasn’t about to sweeten things for him—the House of Kolovsky had been in chaos since the news had got out that Zakahr Belenki was taking over, and if this man really thought he was going to walk in and find order then he was about to find out otherwise.

      Lavinia knew he was irritated at her putting on her make-up but what choice did she have? In less than an hour they would be leaving for the airport, and it was essential that she looked the part. But even if none of her previous bosses—Levander, Aleksi or Nina—would have had it any other way, Zakahr was beyond irritated by her actions.

      ‘Did Kate sit at her desk to do her face?’

      ‘Kate,’ Lavinia said, with just a hint of ring to her tone, ‘wasn’t exactly hired for her looks.’

      He heard the edge to her voice, and suppressed a smirk at her clear annoyance. Kate was the absolute opposite of Lavinia, and it must surely eat away at this stunning specimen that an overweight, rather plain single mum had married the prize that was Aleksi Kolovsky!

      ‘There’s clearly more to Kate than looks,’ Zakahr quipped. And, because he just couldn’t resist, he added, ‘After all, she married the boss!’

      He watched the blusher brush pause over her cheek for a second, then she carried on rouging her cheeks.

      ‘Where are your staff?’ Lavinia frowned, peering over his shoulder as if she expected someone to appear.

      ‘Unfortunately for me you are my staff.’

      ‘You didn’t bring anyone with you?’ The surprise was evident in her voice—she had read up on him, of course. Zakahr Belenki had interests all over Europe. His team swept in on ailing businesses that glinted with potential gold, injecting massive doses of cash to keep them afloat, moving in like a cuckoo, and taking prime place in the newly lucrative nest. And even though Kolovsky was far from ailing, even though Lavinia secretly knew he was here for rather more personal reasons, it was quite unthinkable that he was here alone. ‘You haven’t brought your team?’

      Her question was a pertinent one. His own staff had been bemused that he would travel to Australia without them—to them he was assessing the viability of a company. Why wouldn’t he bring his team? But Zakahr was a leader. He never displayed weakness, and Kolovsky was his only one. He was not about to explain to his staff why this trip was personal. Still, Zakahr wasn’t about to discuss it with Lavinia either, so instead he told her to bring him coffee, then stalked into his office and slammed the door.

      Loudly.

      Lavinia had worked for both Levander and Aleksi Kolovsky prior to Zakahr, so a slamming door barely made her blink.

      Sitting at her desk, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. It hadn’t made the best impression that she was late, but had Zakahr stopped to ask he might have found out the reason—it had truly been the weekend from hell. Propping up Nina at Aleksi’s wedding had been the easy part.

      On Friday her little half-sister had been moved into foster care, and though Lavinia was beyond relieved that finally action had been taken—Lavinia had actually engineered it—it hadn’t been as swift as she had hoped. Instead of Rachael being moved into Lavinia’s care she had been placed in a foster home, and the authorities were now assessing the situation.

      The true precariousness of Rachael’s future had hit hard, and Lavinia had spent three sleepless nights, worrying not just about the future but about how Rachael was coping at the foster home—how the little girl felt sleeping in a strange bed, in a strange home, with strange people.

      Even if there was little Lavinia could actually do for Rachael at the moment, even if she could only console herself that at least the little girl was safe, the last place Lavinia wanted to be was here—and if it had been on any other day she would have rung in sick.

      Except whom could she ring?

      The oh-so-efficient temporary PA Kate had trained had thrown in the towel on the eve of the wedding, Aleksi was on his honeymoon, the other Kolovsky brothers had long since washed their hands of the place, and Nina—poor Nina—on finding out the news as to just who Zakahr Belenki was, was now in a private psychiatric hospital.

      With the authorities examining Lavinia’s suitability to parent, more than ever she needed a stable job, and with that thought in mind, instead of not showing up, Lavinia had showered and pulled on the clothes she had set out the previous night—a dark cami and a gorgeous, if rather short in the skirt, black suit. She had put on her favourite black suede high-heeled shoes, which always kicked off an outfit, and had somehow arrived a mere five minutes late—or, as she would point out later, fifty-five minutes early. Most office jobs started at nine!

      Not that Zakahr Belenki had thanked her for her effort!

      Lavinia poked her tongue out at his closed door.

      He was more arrogant than his brothers combined—and that was saying something. She knew who he was! Knew, despite his name, that he was actually a Kolovsky—that he was Nina and Ivan’s secret son.

      Not that he could find out that she knew.

      Happy with her face, Lavinia opened up her computer, ran her eyes over the schedule for the day. Even if she and Kate, the old PA and now Aleksi’s bride, had clashed at times, how she wished she were here to sort this out.

      Lavinia wore the title of Assistant PA, but was aware she had been hired more as an attractive accessory—a bright and breezy attractive accessory—which was an essential role within Kolovsky. Now, though, the team Ivan had built had, since his death, been slowly dismantled, and that combined with the astonishing news that Zakahr hadn’t brought his impressive team left Lavinia with a heavy weight of responsibility.

      She shouldn’t care, of course.

      Lavinia was well aware that some of the minor directors would be only too happy to have their own PAs loaned out to Zakahr—who in this building didn’t want a direct route to the mysterious new boss?

      Lavinia.

      She didn’t want it, but she had it.

      And,