‘No matter the time of day?’ Alina said. ‘With the time difference...’
‘You liaise with her before you trouble me.’ Demyan said.
They worked on but not well.
‘Ring Hassan’s assistant,’ Demyan said as the clock approached eleven. It had been the longest morning of her life and it didn’t get any better. ‘See if you can schedule dinner tomorrow. He is only here for a week, so make him a priority.’ He had to pause before continuing because Alina wrote every instruction down. ‘He likes a restaurant at The Rocks and I haven’t eaten there in a while.’ He circled his hand again and Alina hoped he was going to give a different restaurant name but, when it came, it was the one she worked at.
‘Problem?’ Demyan asked.
‘No,’ Alina answer too quickly. ‘Why should there be?’
‘Because you didn’t write it down.’
He missed nothing, Alina realised, duly writing it down and waiting for the next set of instructions, but Demyan was silent now.
Alina was sure, quite sure, as lunchtime approached that Demyan had decided it was all too much hard work and that he might just as well send for the terribly efficient Marianna.
She was right.
Alina, Demyan had decided, wasn’t a PA’s shoelace. He had never met someone so excruciatingly shy and apologetic. She blushed whenever he spoke to her. Demyan was very used to women blushing but not quite so deeply and so consistently as Alina.
He actually called Marianna but, hearing the neediness in her voice, decided against summoning her. Maybe it was his pounding headache that made the thought of Marianna helping him deal with these painful transactions suddenly not appeal and he decided to give Alina a small period of grace.
Alina was ringing restaurants and contacting Hassan’s PA when Demyan hung up on Marianna.
‘Could you have some painkillers sent up?’ Demyan said, but as Alina headed for the bell, he changed his mind. ‘Actually, there are some in my bathroom, if you could fetch them for me, please.’
The staff had worked their magic and there was no hint that Demyan had entertained three women there last night.
That’s what you’re dealing with, Alina told herself, because, yes, she was attracted to him. In fact, she was more attracted to Demyan than she had ever been to anyone in her life. Not that he’d ever look at her in that way, Alina knew that, and she wasn’t being modest. He was out of her world. So much so that Alina knew she shouldn’t even be here. It had been terribly foolish to lie and even more foolish to tell Elizabeth that she was up to working for Demyan.
Alina stood in the palatial bathroom and forgot for a moment that she was in there for a reason as she admired his things. Oh, there was so much to admire—not a hint of plastic, Alina thought, looking at his heavy silver razor. There was nothing disposable about him. The diligent cleaners still hadn’t quite managed to erase the scent of him. She couldn’t help herself. Alina picked up a heavy crystal cologne bottle and held it in her palm, squinting to read the name.
Demyan.
He had his own fragrance.
Alina could barely take it in. She removed the glass stopper and inhaled deeply, the scent exactly him, heady, exotic, bold. She could have breathed it in for ever, but hearing his phone ring she jumped a little, knocking a little bit onto her face and hand.