* * *
The request completely stunned Nikolai. Moments ago she’d been brimming with fire. Passionate indignation had burned in her eyes, making his fight not to give in to the temptation to kiss her almost impossible. Now within seconds she’d become soft and compliant. Such a drastic changed filled him with suspicion. She was playing games with him.
‘You want to go back into the cold and shake hands?’ He couldn’t resist teasing her and was rewarded with a light flush of pink to her cheeks.
‘No.’ She laughed softly and her smile made her eyes shine, as if the sun was breaking through the forest and bouncing off fresh, green, spring leaves. ‘I think we should start again with our conversation. Let’s have a hot drink and discuss how we can both help each other out.’
Now he really was surprised. She was up to something, trying to manipulate the situation round to what she wanted. It was what the woman he should have married had always done and he’d been fool enough to let her—until he’d ended the charade that had been their engagement. She’d only wanted him for what he could provide for her.
‘I don’t think there is anything you can offer that will help me, Miss Sanders, but we will have a drink, and I will tell you how the next few days are going to work.’
Before she could say anything else, he signalled to a member of staff and ordered tea—something he wouldn’t have requested in New York but, being back in Russia, his childhood memories were resurfacing in an unsettling way. Until he saw the flicker of interest in her eyes, he hadn’t registered he’d used the first language he’d spoken as a child before his world had been torn apart by the pain of his mother’s secret.
A secret that now haunted him. It was the same secret he suspected his grandmother wanted to unleash in the article and, just like her son, his cruel father, she was spiteful enough to manipulate him back to Russia to witness it all.
‘Please, call me Emma,’ she said, leaning back in the chair opposite him, her jeans, tight around long, shapely legs, snagging his attention, filling his mind with thoughts he had no right to be thinking. ‘And may I call you Nikolai?’
‘Nikolai, yes,’ he replied sharply. He had wanted to change his name to Nik when he’d left Russia as a young child—it had been his way of distancing himself from his father’s family—but his mother had begged him to keep Nikolai, telling him she’d chosen the name because it was a family name and that he should keep some of his Russian roots.
‘I get the distinct impression that you are not at all willing for me to talk to your grandmother, Nikolai—and yet it was her who approached World in Photographs, which makes me think there is something you don’t want told.’
‘How very shrewd.’ And he’d thought he was going to turn on the charm and make her bend to his will. It seemed he’d greatly underestimated this woman. Her act of innocent shyness was exactly that. An act. Just like his ex, she was able to be whatever was necessary to get what she wanted.
‘Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement, one that will give me enough information to complete my job and afford your family enough privacy.’ She sat back in her chair and looked at him, her dark brows raised in a silent show of triumph. If that was what she thought she’d achieved, he’d let her think that—for now.
‘On one condition.’ He picked up his tea, took a sip then met her gaze. He looked into her eyes and for the briefest of moments thought he’d seen anxiety. No, more than that—fear.
‘And what is that condition?’
‘That you tell me why this job is so important to you. Why come all the way from London to Vladimir for the ramblings of an old woman?’ He had no idea if his grandmother rambled; he hadn’t seen her for almost twenty-three years. It had been the day of his father’s funeral and as a bemused ten-year-old he’d had no idea what was going on. No idea why his grandmother had turned him and his mother out. It was only six years later he’d learnt the disturbing truth and had vowed to do all he could to protect his mother from any further pain. A vow he fully intended to keep now.
‘I took the job because it was a way of coming to Russia. It was as if fate was giving me the perfect opportunity. My sister, Jess, has a place at Perm Ballet School and once I’ve got what I need I’m going to spend a few days with her.’ Her lovely green eyes filled with genuine excitement and that familiar pang of injustice almost stifled him. She’d had a happy childhood, had formed bonds with her sister, but his had been far from that thanks to one brutal act by his father, a man he had no wish to acknowledge as such.
‘Your sister is here? In Russia?’ This was the last thing he’d expected to discover and certainly hadn’t turned up when he’d had Emma Sanders’s background checked out. She had debts and she was far from well-known in the field of photography. Other than that, he’d found nothing of any significance. Nothing he could manipulate to make this situation work for him.
‘Yes, ballet is her dream, and I intend to see that she can follow it.’ Her face lit up and pride filled her voice and he saw an entirely different woman from the one he’d met outside just a short while ago. ‘She’s only sixteen and taking this job means I will be able to see her sooner than we’d planned, even if it’s just a few days before I head back to London.’
At least now he could understand why she’d taken the job. Initially his suspicious mind had come to conclusions that weren’t even there. She simply hadn’t enough money to fly to Russia and see her sister so had taken the job. He did, however, still have doubts as to his grandmother’s motives for instigating it all. Just what was she hoping to achieve? But, worse than that, how far was Emma prepared to go in order to impress World in Photographs in an attempt to launch her career?
‘Then we can help one another, Emma. I can take you to places linked with my family’s past where you can take as many photographs as you desire.’ He paused, unsure why he’d used that word. Was it because of the way her body distracted him, making him want her? Colour heightened her cheeks again, making her appear shy and innocent, and he wondered if she understood the underlying sexual tension which was definitely building between them.
‘And can I meet your grandmother? Ask her a few questions?’ Her voice had become a little husky and she bit down on her lower lip, an action he wouldn’t read into. Not if he wanted to stay in control of this nonsense and thwart his grandmother’s attempt at stirring up trouble once more.
‘Yes, but first we’ll go to the places that are linked to my family. I have already made the arrangements for tomorrow.’
She looked happy, as if he’d just handed her a free pass. ‘In that case, I will look forward to spending a few days with you.’
The irritating thing was, he also found himself looking forward to being with her. The very woman he’d wanted to despise on sight and he was undeniably attracted to her.
THE NEXT MORNING Emma was full of excitement and it wasn’t just that, after a shaky start, this assignment, thanks to Nikolai’s plans, would be done quickly and she could head off to meet Jess. She was taken aback to realise she was also excited to see Nikolai Cunningham again. After yesterday afternoon in his company, she was convinced he couldn’t be as severe as he’d first appeared when she’d stepped off the train. Then he’d created such a formidable picture of power and command and she’d wished she’d been able to photograph him as he’d stood there, glaring at her.
It unnerved her to admit the excitement hadn’t dissipated after they’d met and