The Russian's Ultimatum(6)

Despite her worry and lethargy, she couldn't help but experience a   whisper of excitement when she joined him on deck and felt the warmth of   the sun beat down on her face. It really was a picture-perfect scene.   Not a single cloud marred the cobalt sky.

Pascha pointed out the tiny, verdant island before them poking out of   the Atlantic-or was it the Caribbean? They were right at the border   between the two watery giants. In the far distance she could see a   cluster of larger islands, seemingly surrounding the smaller one like   sentries.

'That is Aliana Island.' It was the first time he'd put a name to her final destination.

Aliana Island: even its name was beautiful.

Emily reminded herself that it should make no difference whether her   prison for the next week was an under-stairs cupboard or a virtual   paradise. Her reasons for being there were the same. She was there   against her will.

All the same, the closer they got to their destination, the more her   spirits lifted. The island didn't appear to get any bigger, but she   could see more detail. The deep blue sea beneath them lightened, turning   a clearer turquoise than she could have dreamed of, the sandy beach   before them sparkling under the beaming sun.

'We have to be careful getting to the island,' Pascha explained in that   clipped manner she was becoming used to. 'It's surrounded by a coral   reef.'

'Aren't they dangerous for boats?' She didn't know much about coral reefs but that was one thing she was fairly certain of.

'Exceedingly dangerous,' he agreed. 'Only a fool would navigate coral   waters without any prior knowledge of them. Luis has been navigating   these waters for years.'

'That's good to know,' she murmured without surprise. In the short time   she'd known him, Pascha had proved himself a man who took security and   safety extremely seriously.

'Is that a temple?' she asked, spotting what looked like some kind of Buddhist retreat set back a little from the beach.

'No. It's my lodge.'

'Your lodge?'

'Aliana Island belongs to me.'

Despite herself, Emily was impressed. Looking carefully, she could see   other, smaller buildings with thatched roofs branching off the main one.   'It's beautiful. How did it get its name? Was Aliana the person who   discovered it?'

'No. Aliana is my mother.'

'Really?' Something flittered over her face, a look he couldn't discern   but made him think his answer had pleased her somehow. 'You named an   island after your mother? What a fabulous thing to do. I bet she was   delighted when you told her, wasn't she?'

'She...'

He struggled to think of the correct wording to describe his mother's   reaction-the slap across his face and the words, 'You think an island   can repair the damage you caused?'

He decided on, 'She wasn't displeased.'

He'd bought the island three years before. The ink on the purchase contract had barely dried before he'd changed its name.                       
       
           



       

He'd had it all planned out. He would visit his mother and Andrei after   five years of estrangement. As part of his atonement, he would invite   them to spend a holiday with him on the island. He would give them their   own keys and tell them to think of it as theirs too-a special place  for  them all to share and use however they saw fit.

Time and distance had given him a great deal of perspective. When he   closed his eyes, all he saw was the worry etched on his mother's face as   she'd watched over the small son she hadn't known whether would live  or  die. He'd seen the stress Andrei had carried with him but had never   shown his adopted son. The thick, dark hair had thinned and whitened  too  quickly; the capable hands had calloused seemingly overnight.

Fate had worked against him. Shortly before the lodge had been   completed, before Pascha had been able to make things right between   them, Andrei had died. He'd gone to bed and never woken up. A heart   attack.

The man who'd raised him as if he were his own, who'd worked his fingers   to the bone to give Pascha the chance to live, the man Pascha had   walked away from...had gone. He'd lost the opportunity to apologise and   make amends. He'd lost the opportunity to tell him that he loved him.

His grief-stricken mother...

Pascha's apology and remorse had washed right over her. His words had   come too late. He should have said them when Andrei was alive. Aliana   Island was just a possession; it meant nothing to his mother, not when   she no longer had her beloved husband to enjoy it with.

But, while he might never be able to make amends with Andrei personally,   he could secure his legacy. It was the only thing he could do. And if   he was successful...maybe then his mother would forgive him. Their   relationship could be repaired-he had to believe that.

'Do you spend much time here?' Emily asked, thankfully moving the conversation onto safer territory.

'Not as much as I would like.'

The yacht had been brought into a lagoon and moored alongside a small   jetty. A panelling in the side of the yacht unfurled to reveal metal   steps for them to disembark from. Pascha strolled down the steps and   made his way up the jetty.

He was sorely tempted to get Luis, the man he employed to skipper his   yacht, to take him straight back to Puerto Rico so he could take his jet   directly to Paris, his next destination. However, he'd been awake for   over a day, having flown from Milan to London in the early hours. He   needed sleep. If there was one thing Pascha did not mess around with, it   was his health, and sleep was instrumental to it.

The odds of the illness which had threatened his life as a child   returning was miniscule, but a miniscule chance was worse than no chance   at all. Sleep, exercise and a healthy diet were all things he could   control. Controlling them lowered that miniscule chance, putting the   odds even more in his favour.

He'd planned to sleep on the flight from London but for once had been   unable to, his awareness of the proximity of his guest having made it   impossible for him to relax. He kept catching wafts of the perfume Emily   had applied before he'd finally got her out of her bedroom. Her scent   was delicious, an earthy smell with a touch of honeyed sweetness his   senses responded to of their own accord, much to his annoyance.

He needed rest, and for that he'd need space. He would have a quick meal   then get his head down-eight solid hours to recharge his  batteries-then  leave at first light.

He followed the pathway, traversing the beach up to the main entrance of   the lodge, aware of Emily following behind him. Valeria, his head of   housekeeping, was there to greet them.

After exchanging pleasantries, he said, 'Please show Miss Richardson to   her guest hut and show her where everything is. Are we okay to eat in  an  hour?'

Valeria nodded. His unplanned visit hadn't fazed her in the slightest.   Under normal circumstances Pascha would give proper notice of a planned   visit so she could prepare for it. Today she'd had roughly twelve hours   to get everything ready, but from what he could see everything was in   hand.

When he stepped into his hut, everything was exactly as it should be,   not a speck of dust to be seen. Before heading to the bathroom, he   stepped out onto the veranda and breathed in the salty air, closing his   eyes as he willed the usual peace he found on Aliana Island to envelope   him.

With Emily Richardson there, he suspected peace would be a long way off.

* * *

If Emily's eyes were capable of widening any further, they would have.   Connected to the main house by a set of dark hardwood stairs, her hut   looked more like an enormous high-end luxury cabin than anything else,   with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up to give a panoramic view,   not just of the island but the surrounding ocean. The entire front   section of the hut was one huge sliding door. Steps led out to a private   veranda with a dining table, then down to a balcony with an abundance   of soft white sun-loungers. More steps led down onto the beach.                       
       
           



       

After a quick discussion about Emily's dietary requirements-apparently   there were three chefs on site to prepare whatever she wanted, whenever   she wanted-Valeria left her to settle in.

Alone, Emily tried to take it all in, but she was so overwhelmed by her   hut, her surroundings, the fact that Aliana Island was a private   paradise...

And this was her prison. A jail with a four-poster bed.