The Most Coveted Prize(5)

Her mother had often said that the charity was her "thank-you' to life  for giving her the happiness that meeting her Russian husband had  brought her. Not even Vasilii, with his often hard-headed attitude  towards money and charity, could argue with that motivation. No matter  how much she sometimes objected to Vasilii's control of her and her  life, Alena knew full well that he had the power to melt her heart  simply because he had loved and valued her mother so much. For such a  tough, uncompromising man to be willing to admit that one slim  Englishwoman had, through her love for his father and for him,  transformed their lives-even if he would only admit that to her-was  something that would always touch her heart. Vasilii's love and concern  for her, his protection of her, was his way of repaying the love he had  received from her mother, Alena knew. She just wished that he would  relax his protective guard of her a little.

Did she really want to risk everything she had worked so hard for just  for the sake of a sensual infatuation that had as much reality to it as a  rainbow over the Neva?

She had no need to ask herself what Vasilii would think of her present  behaviour. He would be horrified and angry. But he was not going to know  about it, was he? Because she was going to be very sensible and  responsible and not have anything more to do with Kiryl. She was going  to focus instead on the future she had been working so hard towards and  prove to her brother that she was mature enough to take on her late  mother's role within the charity.

Two hours later, stepping out of her taxi outside the office block that  housed the offices of her mother's charity, Alena paused to smooth down  the soft grey cashmere of her smart single-breasted coat and take a deep  breath. Appearances counted for an awful lot, her mother had always  said. Deals could be brokered as broken in the judgement passed on the  impression one conveyed-before a word had been spoken.

Alena had remembered her mother's sage advice this morning when she had  dressed for this appointment. It might eventually be her right and  inheritance to take over the running of the charity, but she could not  do that successfully without the support of the executives who worked  for it.

She needed to win their support and their confidence if she was going to  be able to continue to grow the success of her mother's charity. For  that reason she had tried to dress in a way that, whilst showing  something of her own individuality, conveyed maturity.

She had chosen to wear medium-height black shoes with opaque winter  tights rather than high-heeled knee-length boots. Boots might be  sensible in cold weather, but there were boots and boots-and she  certainly did not want to be judged as an attention-seeking fashion  plate.

To ward off the sharp February wind she'd wrapped a darker grey wool en  scarf round her neck and pulled a matching knitted hat on over her hair.  A pair of fingerless grey gloves allowed her to pay her taxi fare, and  her smile for the doorman who opened the glass doors to the office block  for her earned her an answering smile of appreciation.

Initially, when she'd first set up the charity, her mother had wanted to  locate its head office in London because it was her home city. But  she'd wanted it to be in a far more modest and inexpensive place than  its current Mayfair location. It had been her father and halfbrother who  had persuaded her mother to accept that if the charity was to attract  donors then a more prestigious location would give it gravitas. Besides  which Vasilii had added a properly secured office block so it would be  far safer.                       
       
           



       

Safety was important to Vasilii. But that was not surprising, given that  his own mother had been the victim of a kidnap plot that had gone  wrong, and which had resulted in her death. It had been after that that  Vasilii's father had relocated his business and his home to London,  although it had been in St Petersburg in Russia where her parents had  met. Her father had had high moral standards, both in his business and  his private life. The death of both parents in a car accident had been a  terrible shock and a terrible loss, but thankfully she had always had  Vasilii.

It had been wrong of her to allow herself to be taken over by what she  was now beginning to think of as a form of madness in her unfamiliar  desire for Kiryl, and she was glad that she had decided to put the whole  incident behind her-to focus on what was really important in her life,  Alena told herself as she stepped into the lift and pressed the button  for the tenth floor.

The work of Alena's mother's charity involved helping girls in poverty  all over the world. A multicultural staff worked for the charity, and  its South American CEO, Dolores Alvarez, had known poverty in her  childhood herself. She was now in her fifties, and the lines on her face  told of her compassion and her life experience.

She welcomed Alena with a warm smile as she showed her into her office,  and ordered coffee for both of them, telling her, "We've had a lovely  surprise this morning. You'll know that one of your late mother's goals  for our charity was to bring in more outside donors, and that we've been  running a campaign to that effect?'

Alena nodded her head. "Yes, I know how important my father and mother  believed it was that we should broaden the scope of the charity.'

"After the death of your parents we did receive some very generous  donations from their colleagues and friends, but they were one off  payments. However, we have now had an approach from a potential donor  which sounds very promising. Before making up his mind he has stated  that he wants to meet you.'

Their coffee had arrived, and after thanking the smartly dressed young  male PA who had brought it Alena asked the CEO, "Is it because he wants  to know if I am capable of heading the charity successfully?' She gave  Dolores a wry look and told her, "It's exactly the kind of thing Vasilii  would do.'

"Rich men like to be in complete control of their wealth. It seems to go  with their mindset and the drive that has made them rich in the first  place.'

"Control freaks?' Alena said ruefully.

Dolores smiled, but gave a small shake of her head. "Maybe, but we can't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth, or  … '

"Frighten it away?' Alena suggested.

"No. Not if we're to succeed in achieving the most ambitious of your  late mother's plans. The money she left in trust for the charity brings  in a good income, but  … '

"But we need more money. Yes, I know. I've been studying our financial  statements, and the rise in the cost of living in some of the countries  where we are most active has meant that the cost of providing schooling  for the poorest in those countries is rising.'

The CEO gave her an approving look that Alena suspected was also tinged with surprise, before agreeing.

"That is true, yes. Which means that it is important to find every new  donor we can. From what this one has said to me he is considering making  a very generous on-going annual donation to our cause, once he has  satisfied himself as to  … '

"As to what?' Alena pressed.

Dolores looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Tell me,' Alena insisted. "I have a right to know.'

"Yes, of course.' Dolores hesitated again, and then told her, "He has  expressed some reservations about the fact that someone so youthful and  …   and untried will ultimately be in charge of the charity. Because of  that he has expressed this wish to meet you personally.'

"To assess my suitability to step into my mother's shoes?' Alena guessed.

"To reassure himself that he is making the right decision,' Dolores  corrected her diplomatically. "Of course if you prefer not to do so then  I am sure we could make a tactful excuse-perhaps tell him that you  would prefer your brother to deal with the situation?'

Alena weighed up what Dolores had told her. If she met this potential  donor and he didn't think her capable of stepping into her mother's  shoes then she risked losing his support for the charity. It might be  safer for her to allow Vasilii to meet him instead. But if she did that  how was she ever going to be able to convince Vasilii that she was  mature enough to take on her mother's role? And, just as important, how  was she ever going to feel confident about her ability to do that  herself?                       
       
           



       

She took a deep breath.

"If this prospective donor wishes to meet me, then it is only fair that he does.'



She could see from the CEO's approving look that she had made the right decision.

"If you could set up an appointment with him for me?'

"That's easily done,' Dolores told her with a smile. "He is actually  here now. When I told him that you were coming in this morning, and that  I'd speak with you about seeing him, he announced that he would come  here to meet you. I did try to put him off, but he insisted, I'm  afraid.'