Russian's Ruthless Demand Read online

  Only because she’d felt her heart leap into her throat when she’d heard his voice and now it was knocking around behind her ribs as if it was looking for a way out.

  The dream she’d had appeared front and centre in her mind. As did the taste of his skin on her mouth.

  He strolled into her office and closed the door, the pale blue shirt he wore making the striking blue of his eyes stand out in his gorgeous Viking face. ‘Why, Eleanore, you don’t seem to be in a very good mood this morning.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just busy.’ Ignoring her he perched on the corner of her desk as if he had nothing better to do in the whole world.

  ‘On your hotel,’ she added pointedly, pretending rapt attention in her computer screen.

  She should have known he wouldn’t take the hint and leave. Instead he reached across her desk and confiscated her orange notebook. It was the one she wrote her goals in and she’d felt the need to go over them before starting work that morning.

  ‘Give me that—it’s private.’

  ‘“Long-Range Goals.”’ His eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘“1. Promotion. 2. Investment property. 3. Own business? 4. Marriage. 5. Family.”’

  ‘Don’t you have any conscience at all?’

  ‘You already know I don’t. I take it family refers to some future event and not your siblings.’

  ‘Give it back.’

  ‘I must say I’m surprised to see marriage way down on your list. It’s usually on the top for most of the women I date.’

  ‘Just another reason why we’ll never date.’

  ‘That only makes me want to date you even more. You have your head screwed on straight.’

  ‘Just knowing you’re one of those lame commitment-phobes warms my heart,’ she mocked.

  He smiled. ‘What’s the promotion?’

  ‘I’m not discussing this with you.’

  Ignoring her outstretched hand he regarded her levelly. ‘Do you actually stick to this?’

  ‘No, I have it for fun.’

  He glanced at the list again, shook his head. ‘Nyet. “Fun” isn’t on here.’

  Eleanore kept her hand out with the exaggerated patience of a parent at the end of her tether.

  ‘And why the question mark after “own business”?’

  ‘Will you please give that back?’

  She waited for him to make another comment but instead he just smiled, handed her the notebook and pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling through his messages and winding her nerves even tighter.

  Last night she’d nearly sent the wrong plans to the wrong recipients because her mind had been on him instead of her job and, after yesterday’s little thumb-sucking episode, she knew she was too tense to continue with more of his games this morning. And while she’d never thought of herself as a quitter, right now she was ready to wave the white flag which just made her temper spike. ‘Are you going to sit here all day?’

  His eyes shifted from his phone to hers. ‘Is that an invitation, Miss Harrington?’ he asked softly.

  Realising he was a master strategist and she’d been dancing to his tune all week Eleanore jumped out of her chair. If he wanted her office, he could have it. She needed to visit the site to check on progress anyway. She’d just do that now and leave her paperwork for later.

  Of course she should have known that he wouldn’t let her leave without asking where she was going but she hadn’t expected for him to reach out and snag hold of her wrist on her way past.

  ‘Going somewhere?’

  ‘To the site.’ Her voice sounded scratchy and she cleared it. ‘If you want my office it’s all yours.’

  ‘But I don’t want your office.’

  His deliberately low tone followed by a sensuous smirk told her that he wanted her instead and a terrible weakness invaded her limbs.

  ‘I can’t do this any more,’ she said on a rush.

  His grip around her wrist was dry and warm. ‘Can’t do what?’ His thumb stroked across the pulse point going mad beneath her skin and a shiver raced down her spine.

  ‘This.’

  ‘This?’

  Was he being deliberately obtuse?

  ‘Us.’ She tugged on her wrist but instead of giving her freedom he urged her closer.

  ‘Us?’

  Eleanore moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and realised that hadn’t been the best move when Lukas tracked the movement, his eyes much darker when they returned to hers and without a trace of humour in them. She saw a muscle tick in his jaw and her breathing became laboured as she realised he’d manoeuvred her between his open thighs.

  A thrill of anticipation shot through her. Anticipation entwined with fear and while she could have moved away—he wasn’t holding her that tightly—she felt like she was staring into the eyes of a cobra about to strike. Only this one wasn’t about to inflict pain but abject pleasure.

  ‘You know what I’m talking about,’ she breathed. ‘This silly bet thing. It’s highly inappropriate.’

  ‘Highly.’ His hungry gaze slide down her torso and his hands moved to lightly grip her hips, each one of his fingers spreading either side of her spine in the small of her back.

  Oh, dear Lord.

  She could feel the warmth of those big palms and her insides flooded with liquid heat and her nipples hardened to achy points. Her mind suddenly filled with a vision of him sliding his hands lower to gather the hem of her skirt before pushing the constricting fabric upward until his fingers could trace around the edge of her underwear before slipping inside.

  Eleanore bit into her bottom lip to stifle a groan.

  Never before had she had such X-rated thoughts about a man and her hands fluttered awkwardly between them as part of her wanted to place them on his wide shoulders for support and another part warned her that she might lose more than Harrington’s name on the door if she did. She might lose her heart as well.

  Normally she thought of herself as assertive and practical—a card-carrying feminist, as he’d called her—but right now she had no idea where her willpower had gone. And it was all his fault. Telling her he wouldn’t kiss her, talking about her bra, eating chocolate cake in her office, watching her with those beautiful blue eyes...

  ‘Why don’t you kiss me, moya Eleanore, and end it.’

  Some small stash of sanity inside her brain asserted itself and she shook her head. He brought his mouth closer to hers and she stupidly feared that he would stop and continue at the same time. He was like the devil tempting her over to the dark side.

  His strong fingers massaged her hip bones and she grabbed hold of his wide shoulders for support. His hard muscles bunched powerfully beneath her touch, tension coming off his long, lean body in seismic waves.

  A small sound escaped her closed lips and he swore, dragging her still closer until barely an inch separated them. ‘Then I will.’ Before she could comprehend his intention one big palm lifted to the nape of her neck and dragged her mouth to his.

  It felt like he had dangled this particular carrot in front of her for so long that when his lips slid over hers in a feather-light touch, nibbling and pulling at her sensitive skin Eleanore didn’t even think of resisting.

  Instead she kissed him back with a hunger she wouldn’t have thought possible, her lips opening beneath the erotic pressure of his until his tongue swept into her mouth and drugged her senses.

  Eleanore whimpered low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck as her legs buckled beneath her weight. A tiny warning bell rang somewhere in the deep recesses of her psyche but that was about the time he pushed her jacket wide and swept his hands from her face to her hips and skimmed the outer swells of her breasts. A frustrated kind of pleasure ripped through her and made her arch toward him until her breasts flattened against his chest. />
  He must have liked the move because he growled against her neck and reversed their positions so that the edge of her desk bit into her bottom and it was his turn to stand between her open thighs. He lifted her onto it and then palmed her full breasts, his thumbs going straight to her rigid nipples to strum over their achy points.

  Eleanore squirmed to get closer to him as pleasure knifed through her and damp heat flooded her lower body. He must have liked that too, because she felt the cooler air on her inner thighs as her skirt was hiked higher and her stomach muscles clenched when Lukas bent his knees a little to press even closer.

  Something sharp dug into her bottom as his movements became more urgent and less coordinated and she jerked in his arms.

  ‘Easy, moya krasavitsa,’ he crooned, his fingers working impatiently at the hidden hook-and-eye fastenings of her top.

  The sound of his voice was enough to break into Eleanore’s reverie long enough for her to realise what she was doing. And who she was doing it with.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Lukas raised his head and she saw a line of hot colour darkening the tips of his Slavic cheekbones. ‘What? I am being too rough?’ His normally fluent English was nowhere in evidence. ‘Come, let me kiss you. Vash rot tak sladko. Your mouth is so sweet.’

  He lowered his head and claimed her lips again in a powerful kiss that drove every pellet of common sense from her mind and sent all her attention to the hollow, achy space between her thighs.

  Trying to assuage it she closed her legs around his hard hips but that only heightened the sensation of emptiness.

  Appalled at her uncontrolled reaction she clamped down on the sensation and pulled her mouth from his. ‘No—Lukas—stop.’ She arched away from him. ‘We can’t do this. My office...the door...Lukas!’ She shoved at his shoulders and knew she’d gotten through to him when he went dead still.

  ‘You kissed me,’ she gasped, suddenly remembering their bet.

  ‘Yes.’ His breathing was as laboured as hers. ‘I seem to have no control where you are concerned.’

  His head descended toward hers but she pulled back before his lips could claim hers again. ‘What about the bet?’

  When he looked at her his eyes were hooded. ‘You win. Congratulations.’

  Eleanore frowned. ‘I win?’

  ‘And I lose. Now kiss me again. I need to taste you on my tongue.’

  ‘No.’ Her addled brain was trying to tell her something and then she got it and stilled. ‘You don’t care.’

  ‘On the contrary, I care very much.’

  ‘No. I mean about the bet.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ He shrugged and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘That not so much.’

  ‘But how can you not?’

  His dark gaze held hers. ‘The hotel is still mine. I don’t need to have my name on it to know that. Attachments will always make you weak.’

  She slipped off the desk and out of his arms, her mind reeling. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  He stared at her as she put distance between them, his smile pure sex. ‘I can’t believe I waited a week to kiss you. You’re like a firecracker in my arms.’

  She shook her head. ‘Don’t you have any morals?’

  ‘None.’

  His face had become a hard, impassive mask, hiding his thoughts from her. Instinct told her not to believe him. But what kind of person made a bet they didn’t care about?

  The type who didn’t care about anything at all, a rational voice informed her.

  And she’d always known he was like that. Right from the start. So why was she prevaricating? Did she want him to be more than he said he was?

  Closing her eyes, her body still humming from where he had touched her, she hardened her resolve. ‘I don’t want you to touch me again.’

  ‘You liked it a minute ago.’

  ‘Well, I don’t like it now.’ She gulped air into her lungs like a dying goldfish. ‘You’re not my type and... and apart from that it’s completely unprofessional. I’m here to work on your hotel. As soon as it’s completed I’m leaving.’

  His gaze dropped to her lips. Eleanore could almost feel the warmth of his mouth as if he was still kissing her. She tried to blink the effect away but when her eyes lifted to his once more his held a mocking light as if he could see right through her flimsy denial. His next words confirmed as much.

  ‘Keep telling yourself that and you might even believe it.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HE WASN’T HER TYPE. The irritation that had sparked in him at those words still hadn’t waned. At the time Lukas had determined to forget all about the attraction he felt for her. All week he’d taken meetings out of the office and kept away from her but still he noticed her presence. Or more, felt her presence. Just as he also felt her absence. Like now. He didn’t need to go to her office to know it would be empty. It was the oddest sensation and one he couldn’t explain.

  Nor could he explain how he’d nearly lost control with her last week. If she hadn’t stopped him he’d have taken her right there on her desk with the door unlocked and damn the consequences.

  Frustration gnawed at his gut. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Or the way she made him feel. Somehow alive and more engaged in life than he had been in a long time. And she wanted him. Not that she would admit it.

  Another bite of frustration clenched his stomach.Should he apologise to her for letting things get out of hand in her office last week? And would it make any difference? And what would he say? Can we start over? Invite her to dinner? No point in that. It wasn’t as if he was desperate. He could call up any number of women from here to Australia and have a beautiful woman in his bed moments later. Well, maybe hours later if she was from Australia, but dammit, where was she?

  ‘Where’s who?’

  Lukas hadn’t heard Petra come up behind him and he scowled at her. ‘No one.’

  ‘Are you muttering about Eleanore?’

  His PA had been regarding him strangely all week. The last thing he needed to do was set off her romantic radar over his conflicted emotions about Eleanore. She already gave him enough grief over his choice of women. ‘I don’t mutter,’ he said. ‘But where is she?’

  The lift pinged behind him and his blood fired in his veins. Only it wasn’t Eleanore, it was Zoe, the staff member who had admired Eleanore’s shoes in the conference room.

  ‘Good afternoon, Petra. Mr Kuznetskov.’ She blushed prettily. ‘Eleanore said to leave these on your desk.’

  ‘Is she at the hotel?’

  Zoe’s eyes widened and he told himself to tone it down. ‘No, Greg and some of the guys took her to a couple of bars,’ she informed him enthusiastically. Then she offered him the drawings in her hand. ‘You should see these. They’re the images Eleanore created of the arched walkway that links the hotel with the group of individual chalets the guests use as warm rooms. It makes the whole design interconnected like a smaller snowflake clinging to a larger one. It seems like an obvious thing to do in hindsight, but I never would have thought of it.’

  Lukas frowned. They said a man’s IQ halved when he thought with his penis. His, it seemed, fell even more. ‘Bars? Which bars?’

  * * *

  ‘Good to see you’ve got time to relax at a bar when there is only two weeks left until opening night.’

  Just about to knock the number ten billiard ball into the upper right-hand pocket Eleanore straightened and flung her head around so sharply at the sound of Lukas’s voice the ends of her smooth ponytail whipped around and slapped her in the face. ‘Lukas!’

  She glanced at him warily. She hadn’t seen him all week, not since he’d kissed her in his office, and she still hadn’t reconciled the woman who had fallen into his arms like a ripe melon with the woman she thought herself
to be. Someone who was independent and ambitious and just a little afraid of what would happen if she fell for a man and he didn’t fall for her right back.

  Not that she’d fallen for Lukas Kuznetskov or anything. She was far too sensible for that but still... She was annoyed when during the week she had caught herself listening for the sound of his footsteps in the hallway and periodically glancing at her doorway only to find that no, he wasn’t loitering there watching her.

  ‘Privet, Lukas.’ Greg came around the table to greet him, keeping a respectful distance between them as if acknowledging that Lukas was the alpha in the room.

  Greg said something to him in Russian and Eleanore knew it was about her because Lukas’s eyes narrowed in on her.

  ‘It seems you’re a pool shark, Miss Harrington.’

  ‘The things you learn at university,’ she said, attempting lightness.

  ‘How to play truant being one of them.’ It wasn’t a friendly comment and Eleanore frowned.

  His earlier words about relaxing came back to her and her good mood faded. Apart from her insidious attraction for him she thought everything was going okay.

  ‘I’m not slacking off,’ she said, annoyed that she felt the need to defend herself. ‘This is work.’

  ‘Bar hopping and playing pool is work?’ His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. ‘You have a better job than I do.’

  She noticed Mikhail, the sculptor, and Dominic, the electrician, had also come around the table and were listening. ‘Mikhail is going to sculpt a billiard table to go into the smaller second bar and Dominic has been showing me different lighting options. So yes, we’re working.’

  ‘Really?’ His mouth curled with derision as he took in the row of empty shot glasses lining the shelf along the wall. ‘From what I can see it looks more like you’re working on improving your drinking capacity.’

  The heavy silence that fell over their small group was palpable.

  ‘Yes.’ Eleanore smiled, furious that he should question her like this in front of the others. She’d worked hard to gain the respect of these hard-living workmen who were unused to dealing with a woman on-site and to have Lukas come across all patriarchal made her blood boil. ‘And I do believe it was your suggestion that Russia was the best place for me to earn my stripes,’ she reminded him with enough sugar to fell a wedding cake.