The Power of Vasilii Read online

  She really wasn’t at all sure about this dress, Laura thought worriedly as she surveyed the back view of the beautiful gown that she had kept to one side for this special occasion without ever having examined it properly. If she had done so she would have discovered by now that, whilst the front of the column of silvery blue jersey had a high-slashed neckline, and whilst the dress’s sleeves fully covered her arms, the back of the dress was completely cut away—right down almost to the base of her spine. Her bare flesh was covered with a sheer net fabric that made it look as though her back was completely bare. Added to that was the fact that the way the gown was cut meant that whilst it did not cling to her body it certainly moved with it.

  Given what Vasilii had told her about Gang Li, wouldn’t it be wiser to wear something rather less … well, rather less likely to catch the male gaze? However, a quick check of the wardrobe confirmed what she had already known: there was nothing else in it that would be suitable for this evening’s event. There was nothing outwardly vulgar about the gown, it was true, but still Laura hesitated. Wasn’t it the truth that this dress had been designed to be worn by a woman who was confident in her own sensuality, and even more confident about her ability to arouse the desire of the man for whom she was wearing it? A man like Vasilii, who would look at that woman and want her, who would touch her and hold her whilst she …

  Shocked by the primitive intensity of the ache of longing that had come from nowhere to burn painfully low down in her body, Laura tried to distract herself by quickly sweeping up her hair into a soft knot—and then realised that with her hair up she would need to wear earrings. Her mother’s earrings. And yet when she removed them from the box she found that she was hesitating and then selecting only one of the real pair, fixing the new earring Vasilii had given her in one ear.

  They met in the suite’s sitting room in mutual silence, mutually mistrustful and circling one another warily, Laura thought unhappily. But whilst her mind thought of Vasilii as her enemy her senses saw him in a very different light. She had known that in her room, getting ready, and that knowledge was reinforced for her now, as she felt the jerking tug of her own sensual response at the sight of Vasilii in his dinner suit the minute she saw him.

  From the minute she had walked into his office she had fought against acknowledging what she was finally admitting to herself now, Laura recognised, and there was an ongoing draining battle constantly taking place within her between what she thought with her cerebral self and the way in which her senses reacted to him.

  She didn’t want to be so intensely sensually aware of him, but the reality was that somehow she was.

  Watching the way the fabric of Laura’s gown moved as she walked made Vasilii frown against the effect the movement of her body was having on his own. Why—how—did she have the power to affect him in this way? It was perverse of his own flesh to be so susceptible to her, especially when he had seen women—even his own lovers—wear far more sexually explicit clothing and had remained completely unmoved sexually by that supposed allure.

  ‘I see you’re wearing your earrings.’

  Why on earth had he said that? Vasilii wondered, irritated with himself. Why should he care whether she wore her earrings or not? He didn’t.

  ‘Yes,’ Laura agreed, absently touching the one that had come from him and then dropping her hand immediately. It was totally illogical for her to feel that he might think she was touching the earring because it had come from him. After all, he didn’t know that she knew that it had.

  ‘We’d better go.’

  Laura turned as she headed for the door, allowing Vasilii to see the back of her dress for the first time. The fierce stab of male desire that gripped him held him immobile in its savage hold, mauling him with its sharp, demanding bite.

  Images that went totally against everything that he thought about himself as a man in control of himself and his sexuality were spilling through his mind in a swift dangerous flood. He could see himself kissing the nape of her neck and then her back, slowly, lingering over the scent and the taste of her, smoothing his hands down the naked curve of her spine, sliding them inside the soft fabric whilst he drew her against his body and cupped the unfettered weight of her breasts. He could see himself sliding the whole gown from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, to pool in a soft sigh of fabric that matched the exhaled breath she would give as he bent her forward and caressed her silken thighs, before sheathing himself in the moist, welcoming warmth of her sex. And she would hold him there as he drove them both to the exquisite pleasure of their shared release, before turning her to face him so that he could hold her in a final embrace whilst he kissed the sounds of her pleasure from her lips.

  A fine sweat had broken out on his skin. He never had these kind of thoughts. They were irrational, unwanted, unnecessary—and damnably, unforgivably tormenting to a man who prided himself on his ability to control every aspect of the way he lived his life. On top of that Vasilii struggled to accept that they had been conjured up simply by the sight of Laura’s naked back. How could that be possible? Anger filled him—against Laura, against the dress, against the impossible situation in which he currently found himself and most of all against himself. He should have listened to his initial doubts and not hired her in the first place.

  And then Laura reached the doorway and he saw from the way the light was falling on her back that it was not naked after all, that a very fine film of fabric covered the flesh he could see through it. But it was too late. The damage had been done. Vasilii knew that he would spend many sleepless, tormented nights trying to deny the effect that the thought of touching her naked skin had had on him.

  Five minutes later, in the reception foyer of the private dining room, busy with waiters circulating with trays of drinks, one of the other guests almost stepped back into Laura. Vasilii, who was walking behind her, automatically put out his hand to guide and guard her—and then withdrew it. Seeing his withdrawal in the mirror on the wall in front of her, Laura felt the pain of his rejection squeezing her heart. Vasilii might have told Gang Li that she was his mistress, but it was plain to Laura herself just how he felt about her. He couldn’t even bear to touch her, he disliked her so much.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GANG Li! He had broken away from the group he was with almost as though he had sensed their presence as they entered the room, and now he was watching her, staring at her in a way that made Laura want to turn and run. She stopped walking, feeling vulnerable and very alone, but then Vasilii moved towards her, closing the gap between them without any hesitation, his hand initially beneath her elbow and then resting low down on her back. His touch was the touch of a man who was making it plain that the woman he was with was his woman. His woman. Vasilii’s woman. The woman he desired and took to his bed to make completely and intimately his own.

  Fiery darts of liquid heat shot through her veins. Unable to help herself, Laura turned and looked up at him, caught between the revulsion she felt for Gang Li and her inability to control her sensual reaction to Vasilii’s touch.

  A man could commit every folly there was for such a look from a woman. That was Vasilii’s immediate reaction when he saw the look of helpless panic and plea that darkened Laura’s eyes. A look like that from a woman like her could make a man feel that there were no lengths he would not go to in order to protect her from anything and everything that might hurt her. Instinctively the hand he had placed on her lower back curled round her hip to draw her even closer to his side—as though she was in reality his, as though they were in reality lovers.

  He could feel her body trembling, and the soft unsteadiness of her breath against his throat. She would tremble like that in his bed, and her breath would be equally unsteady when he touched her—just as he would shudder with his own pleasure at their intimacy. No. That would never happen. Nor did he want it to happen, Vasilii assured himself.

  Vasilii was simply underlining the fact that she was his mistress, that was all,
Laura told herself. He had not drawn her close to him because he sensed her fear of Gang Li, and he had certainly not done it because he wanted her there. She knew that he didn’t. So why was her body, why were her senses, reacting as though they had found a hero who was offering them the kind of sanctuary for which they had secretly longed and dreamed? It was beyond foolish—recklessly so—to let her body want that sanctuary so much that it was actually nestling into Vasilii, seeking and savouring his strength and his protection and that intimacy as though they were in fact lovers and it had every right to claim those things. And yet somehow she was powerless to seize hold of her own weakness and control it.

  When had he last felt the warmth of a woman’s body against his own like this? Needing him, wanting him, turning to him for something that only he could give her? Was he going crazy? Laura Westcotte didn’t feel any of those things for him. She was simply acting out a part. He was a fool if he let himself think anything else. He didn’t want to think anything else, Vasilii assured himself. But nevertheless he kept his hand and Laura exactly where they were as he guided Laura towards the dining room and Wu Ying.

  Her own dress might be elegant, but there was no way it could compare with the gown worn by the other woman, Laura acknowledged. For this evening’s formal dinner Wu Ying looked stunning, in a scarlet gown with intricate black bugle bead embroidery.

  By the time they were halfway through the dinner Laura also had to acknowledge that this evening Wu Ying, in direct contrast to both her husband and Gang Li, was far more animated than Laura had seen her before. Her conversation showed plainly her acute grasp of the complexities of the business deal Vasilii was presenting, and she spoke directly to him in her slow but excellent English.

  Wei Wong seemed to be holding back, to be allowing his wife to ask more questions, whilst Gang Li did not seem to take much part in what was going on at all. He was drinking heavily, though—glass after glass of whisky—every now and again fixing a look on Laura that made her heart thump with discomfort and with something she didn’t want to admit came close to a small tendril of fear.

  The biggest surprise of the evening for Laura, though, came when Wu Ying leaned towards her whilst Wei Wong and Vasilii were talking to one another. ‘I have learned of the offensive nature of Gang Li’s behaviour with regard to you, Laura, and you may rest assured that it will not go unpunished,’ she told her quietly. ‘My husband has been very shocked and upset by the disclosures that have been reported to me by the aides to my cousin who have accompanied us here. He has agreed that my cousin is right to say that Gang Li must be relieved of his duties, and that for his own sake my husband must distance himself from him—despite their shared blood. From now on the negotiations will continue without Gang Li playing any part in them. My cousin intends to negotiate directly with Vasilii himself.’

  She had been right to feel that Wu Ying had more power than they had initially been allowed to see, and it was a relief to know that Gang Li couldn’t influence the outcome of the contract, Laura acknowledged, as Wu Ying changed the subject and began to talk about her winery and the plans she and her cousin had for it.

  A lull in the conversation found her allowing herself to let her gaze drift towards Vasilii. He was still talking with Wei Wong, but as though he sensed her attention he turned to look at her, his gaze moving with deliberate intimacy from her eyes to her mouth to linger there. It was the act of a man visually staking his claim on the woman he wanted for his own. Sensual heat sheeted through her like an electric charge. Her heart was thudding wildly, her tongue-tip giving in to the temptation to moisten the sudden aching tension of her parted lips.

  Beneath the table Vasilii tensed the muscles in his thigh against his body’s physical reaction to Laura’s response. He was playing a part—that was all. The desire for her his body was manifesting meant nothing in real terms. Nor would he allow it to do so.

  The evening was finally over. Laura was relieved to see that Gang Li had already disappeared when she went to say her goodbyes to Wei Wong and Wu Ying.

  Laura had decided to wait until they were back in their suite before passing on to Vasilii what Wu Ying had told her—however, they were just about to step into the lift when a member of Wei Wong’s entourage approached and told Vasilii quickly that Wei Wong wanted to see him privately in his suite.

  ‘You go up,’ Vasilii told Laura.

  Nodding her head, Laura left him to get into the lift. It was ridiculous, given the very reason she was here in this hotel with Vasilii, that all her emotions wanted to focus on was that aching pseudo-intimate moment when Vasilii had drawn her to him and she had felt so closely connected to and with him—as though … as though they shared a real and meaningful bond.

  Laura closed her eyes against her own folly as the lift came to a halt.

  The door to the suite opened to her pass key, the lights coming on as she went through to the sitting room. She couldn’t go to bed. There might be things Vasilii wanted to discuss with her post his unscheduled meeting with Wei Wong, before the final official goodbyes in the morning.

  Laura had just gone over to the unit that housed the minibar and coffee-making facilities when it happened: the sound of the internal door connecting the sitting room to the corridor opening, the rush of air its movement brought. Her immediate and instinctive movement was to turn towards those sounds—and then there was the nightmarish horror of seeing Gang Li coming towards her.

  ‘No!’ She denied him as she backed away from him but he ignored her, quickly overpowering her as he grabbed hold of her and pushed her back against the wall. Terrified, but determined to escape from him, Laura fought back, unable to stop herself from crying out when he forced both her wrists behind her back,

  ‘You can call out as much as you want,’ he told her brutally. ‘No one’s going to hear you, and no one’s going to come. So why don’t you make it easy for yourself and just give in?’

  ‘Never,’ Laura refused. ‘Vasilii will be here in a minute—’

  ‘No, he won’t.’ Gang Li cut her off. ‘I’ve seen to that.’

  He was holding both her wrists with one hand and the other was moving towards her breast. Nausea clogged Laura’s throat. She raised her knee towards his groin, and then gasped beneath the shock of the painful ferocity with which he jerked her back against the wall.

  ‘You’ll pay for that,’ he warned her.

  She could smell the fumes of his whisky-laden breath, and something else—something dark and dangerous, something that told her how much he wanted to degrade and punish her. He was reaching for her breast …

  Angrily Vasilii got into the lift and punched the button for the suite. Wei Wong was obviously playing some kind of game with him, because he’d just seen him with his wife—who had announced that, far from Wei Wong wanting to talk with him, they were on their way to bed. The whole trip out here had been an unmitigated disaster that had done nothing to advance his cause—quite the opposite. And now infuriatingly, given the problems that were facing him, all his normally obedient brain seemed to want to think about was those few seconds when he had held Laura close to him and for the first time in his adult life had known an immediate, instinctively irrefutable sense of closeness to another human being. It was because he had been caught off guard. He did not want to feel that kind of closeness. He did not need it. He did not like it. It was unnecessary, unimportant—unbearable because of what it had made him feel.

  The lift sighed to a halt, releasing him from its captivity but not from the captivity of his unwanted and dangerous thoughts. Vasilii crossed the carpeted corridor and opened the suite door.

  Desperate to free herself from Gang Li’s bruising grip, Laura brought the heel of her stiletto shoe down hard on his foot—and then flinched as Gang Li raised his hand to hit her.

  Vasilii realised what was happening the minute he opened the sitting room door. Without even having to think about what he should do he was at Laura’s side, his arm protecting her from Gang Li�
�s intended blow, his body protecting hers from the other man’s lustful gaze. His fingers bit into Gang Li’s shoulders as he tried to push him away from Laura, but instead of releasing her Gang Li pushed Laura forcefully to the floor before Vasilii could stop him, and then ran for the still open sitting room door. Vasilii wanted to go after him, to exact retribution but Laura had to be his first concern, and by the time he had helped her to her feet Gang Li had made his escape.

  ‘Stay there,’ he told her, after helping her to the sofa, and then stood in front of her so that she had no alternative but to do as he said whilst he reached for the hotel phone.

  ‘I’ll get a doctor for you,’ he announced

  Laura shook her head. ‘No,’ she refused, adding, ‘There’s really no need. I’m fine—just a bit bruised and shocked.’

  ‘Why did you let him in?’ Vasilii asked tersely.

  ‘I didn’t. He was already in here. He told me that you wouldn’t be back in time to save me because of a message he’d sent you.’ She winced as Vasilii swore comprehensively, and then apologised before reaching for the telephone again. ‘I’m going to get Alexei to put a guard on Gang Li’s room until he can be handed over to the proper authorities. He isn’t going to get away with this,’ he told her.

  Laura nodded her head. She was still in shock from what had so nearly happened, but the last thing she wanted was for any other woman to be put at risk by a man who was quite plainly a danger to her sex.

  She was distantly aware of Vasilii speaking to the other Russian, and the arrangements that were being made to ensure that Gang Li would be made to face up to the consequences of his actions, but her real attention was on Vasilii as he ended the call and came towards her.

  This close he smelled of the aftershave he wore—and something else that was hot and male and angry. Yet despite that anger she felt safe with him.