Free The Only Woman to Defy Him by Carol Marinelli Page A

her bed, went to her wardrobe and pulled out a box, telling herself that she was being ridiculous to even consider it. As she pulled back the tissue paper and pulled out the dress, it was even more beautiful than Alina remembered. Reds, purples and yellows pulsed beneath her fingers.
    Her scattered mind had once flitted to, instead of paintings, designing and making dresses. She loved working on silk, loved the halo effect around the flowers, and she was lost in them now as she eyed her masterpiece.
    It had taken many goes and she’d spent a fortune but, rather than doing anything with it, Alina had simply been unable to part with it and had spent another small fortune having it made into a dress.
    ‘Stunning fabric,’ the dressmaker had said, and Alina had nodded, omitting to mention that the stunning fabric had been created by her own hands.
    Was it stunning enough, though? Alina thought, eyeing herself in the mirror.
    It was all she had.
    So, instead of buying a dress that would still be deemed too cheap, Alina spent that money on having her hair glossed and expertly curled.
    Oh, and on buying shoes!
    Kissed-by-Demyan-Zukov shoes, Alina decided to name them as she tried them on.
    She was entitled to celebrate that!
    They were so beautiful that they deserved only the prettiest feet and so Alina spent what time she had left giving herself a pedicure, then a manicure, and finally she turned to her face. What was the point? She was always blushing around Demyan so it would only come off and yet, with him, she was no longer shy. Alina pondered that as she did her face, settling for waterproof mascara and neutral lipstick, and then imagined his mouth kissing it off.
    She was going to sleep with him. She wanted to sleep with him. If her heart couldn’t cope with being one of Demyan’s flings then it had just better toughen the hell up.
    As she stared in the mirror, and the knock on the door finally came, the very last thing on Alina’s mind was work.
    * * *
    Demyan was expecting a black dress and a whole load of support underwear as he knocked at her door.
    Good.
    He was annoyed with himself now about asking her to accompany him. Still, it would serve well to remind Alina that his appalling reputation was merited, given that since she’d started working for him, things had been terribly tame. Well, no more! This was business, and sometimes he mixed it with pleasure. If he saw someone he liked, and he usually did, Demyan had every intention of Alina being driven home alone.
    Then she opened her door.
    A blaze of colour and curls and curves greeted him and it went straight to his groin.
    Demyan didn’t say the first thing that came to mind, it would have been far too rude, so he said the second—he told her she looked beautiful but in a way she could never understand. ‘Tiy viy-gli-dish’ kra-see-va.’
    ‘Swearing again, Demyan?’
    ‘No.’ He smiled. ‘I was expecting black.’
    ‘Black’s for work.’ Alina smiled. ‘I’d never choose it, I like colour and light.’
    ‘Come on.’
    She smelt of summer and nervous energy and there was anticipation there too.
    ‘When we arrive, do I—?’
    ‘ I arrive,’ Demyan said. ‘You will go in separately. I am a single man, Alina. You don’t want to ruin my chances, now, do you?’
    Alina swallowed. Nothing could ruin his chances but it was a very deft reminder that this wasn’t a date, even if she’d somehow, by the time she’d painted her third toenail, convinced herself that it was.
    It hurt far more than it should.
    Alina was dropped off and showed her pass and was let in as Demyan drove around to where the celebrities and important guests were making an entrance.
    He was completely at ease arriving alone, it was often one in, two out—he never left empty-handed. Then he saw Alina, standing there in that amazing dress, and he could see by the set of her shoulders he’d offended her, and when he took a glass of champagne and held one out to her she