Harlequin Presents January 2015 Box Set 1 of 2(257)

‘When are you going back home?’

‘After I’ve eaten this.’ He winked at her, taking the seat opposite her at the kitchen table. ‘I’ve missed my flat.’

‘Funnily enough, I’ve missed mine too.’ Emily waited for him to swallow his first mouthful. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Did it hurt?’

For once she didn’t laugh at her brother’s quip. ‘This can’t go on. We can’t fix Dad on our own—no, I can’t fix him on my own. He needs professional help and he needs it now. I’ve phoned the doctor to get the ball rolling about getting proper home care for him.’

James eyed her shrewdly. ‘What’s brought the big change on? I thought you were adamant we didn’t need outside involvement.’

‘I was wrong. And I was wrong to give up my flat. I’ve given my tenants their month’s notice. I’ll be moving back in as soon as they’re out. From now on, you and I are going to share responsibility for Dad.’

She didn’t wait for a reaction, simply got up and reached for a shelf stacked with her mum’s old cookbooks. She pulled one down and lobbed it on the table next to him.

‘What’s this?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘That, darling brother, is a sign from your little sister that it’s time to grow up and learn to take care of yourself. Oh, and seeing as I cooked dinner, you can do the clearing up.’ This time it was Emily’s turn to flash a wink before heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

When she reached the landing, she took a deep breath.

That had been easier than she’d anticipated. There was definitely something to be said for not giving the other person time to answer back.

She heard the creak of her father’s door and turned to find him standing at the threshold in his pyjamas, his eyes watery.

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ he said. And just like that, her slightly lighter mood plummeted.

* * *

Pascha sat in the back of his Lexus gazing absently out of the window.

It had all gone to hell.

Everything.

His driver turned the corner onto the road that housed his London office. A flash of curly black hair made him do a double-take.

Craning his neck for a better look, he soon realised the Monday morning street was so thick with bodies he must have imagined it.

He’d imagined he’d seen her a handful of times that day already. And a dozen the day before, when he hadn’t even left his house.

If he was to see her now, in the flesh, he didn’t know how he would react.

They pulled up outside his building and he got out, heading inside.

As usual, he was greeted by a bustle of activity. Normally he enjoyed the vibrancy and energy. Today he could do without it.

Today he wanted to be alone.

He didn’t know what had propelled him to leave St. Petersburg late on Friday evening and come to London. After his confrontation with Marat, he could have gone anywhere. Why here?

Ignoring all the welcoming although still nervous smiles, he went straight up to his office. As he punched in the code to his office floor, he remembered he still hadn’t changed it since Emily had sneaked in.

Cathy, the executive secretary he’d inherited when he’d bought Bamber Cosmetics, was there to greet him. His PA must have warned her to expect him.

‘Can I make you a coffee?’ she asked once the pleasantries were out of the way.

‘No. I don’t want any visitors or calls today either.’ He swept into his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

The morning dragged.

He’d spent the weekend in his London home doing nothing but going over the events of the preceding week in his mind, which had culminated in his disastrous encounter with Marat.

He rubbed at his eyes with his palms and got to his feet. He needed to find some energy. Regardless of what had happened with Marat, he still had a business to run. More coffee should do the trick.

In his private room he switched the coffee machine on and read an email from Zlatan.

He was about to pour his coffee out when movement on the monitor caught his attention.

He stared. And stared some more.

No. He wasn’t seeing things. There really was someone in his office. A pixie with a cascade of curly black hair.

Eyes fixed on the monitor, he took long, deep breaths and swallowed away the enormous lump that had formed in his throat.

Only when his composure was assured did he pour his coffee out and step through the door to her.

‘You seem to be making a habit of breaking into my office,’ he said, striding over to his desk.

Emily was sat on the visitor’s seat. As he passed her he caught a waft of her earthy honey scent. He tightened his grip on his cup, glad to place it on his desk as he took his seat.