The Russian's Ultimatum

After what felt like an age, where Emily’s skin became tense enough to snap, Pascha leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk and draw his fingers together.

‘So, Miss Richardson, you think you can blackmail me to get what you want? I will not be threatened and I will not have the deal I’ve spent two years working on be destroyed.’ The grey in his eyes glittered with loathing. ‘I will not capitulate to your demands. No. You, Miss Richardson, are going to disappear.’

That made her sit up straight. She shook her head, as if unsure she’d heard him correctly. ‘What? You’re going to make me disappear?’

‘Not in the sense you’re thinking,’ he said shortly, aggrieved to see her face had turned white. What kind of a man did she think he was? ‘I can’t take the risk of you disclosing the specifics of this deal, so I need you to disappear for a week.’ And he knew the perfect place to take her.

Emily stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes that held a hint of relief, probably at the confirmation he wasn’t going to make her disappear via a wooden box. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I am never anything but serious.’

‘I don’t doubt it. But I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Yes, you are. I will agree to clear your father’s name but in return you must agree to go into hiding for a week.’

He had to give her something in exchange, that much he knew. And, seeing as it was her father’s name she wanted to clear, then that was what she would have. It was hardly a trivial sum either. One-hundred-and-fifty-thousand pounds had gone missing on her father’s watch. He was the only person who could have taken it.

Her stomach roiling, Emily forced her mind to think clearly. As deftly as a professional tennis player, Pascha had regained control of the court. But this wasn’t a game. Not to her. And, she knew, not to him either. What he was demanding of her was unbelievable, yet the set expression of those cool, grey eyes and the line of those wide, firm lips showed he wasn’t bluffing. ‘I can’t just leave... I have commitments...’

‘You didn’t think of those commitments when you entered my office for illegal purposes.’

‘Yes, I did, but I only planned on losing a couple of days if I got caught. Not that I expected you to catch me. I was told you were in Milan.’

‘You really are remarkably well-informed.’ Those gorgeous lips curved into the semblance of a smile. Gorgeous lips? Had her anger addled her brain...? ‘But have no fear—I will learn who your mole is.’

She threw him a tight ‘that’s what you think’ smile. Emily would never sell out a friend, especially to a man as dangerous as Pascha Virshilas, who ruined people’s health and reputations for fun. She would bet that was the extent of any fun he had. He was so buttoned up, he probably even treated sex with the utmost precision.

And now she was imagining his sex life—where on earth had that come from? He’d unnerved her more than she’d credited.

Pascha rose to his feet and looked at his watch. ‘I will give you five minutes to make your decision: your father’s freedom in exchange for yours.’

‘But where will I go? I have nowhere to go to.’

‘I have somewhere to take you. It’s safe and out of the way.’

Leaving her standing there to glower at his retreating figure, Pascha opened the inter-connecting door and stepped into his private space.

Emily would agree. Complying would give her exactly what she’d come here for.

He pulled out his phone and fired off an email to his PA, telling her to rearrange all his appointments for the next two days. As he wrote, he ruminated over the arrangements needed to get Emily out of the country and then immediately fired half a dozen more emails to the people and organisations he paid to make things like this happen.

Not that he’d ever done something quite like this before. And, if he felt any discomfort over what he was doing, he was quick to remind himself that she’d thrown the first ball. Emily had broken into his office to steal his company’s data and then had tried to blackmail him. She didn’t deserve him to feel any guilt.

Everything was in hand with regards to the Plushenko buyout. All the negotiations had been finalised; now it was just a case of dotting every ‘i’ and crossing every ‘t’. His lawyers were in the process of doing just that. There was nothing more for him to do other than sign the final contracts in exactly one week.

Escorting Emily to Aliana Island wouldn’t affect anything. He could accompany her there and be back in Europe within thirty-six hours. And yet...

Pascha didn’t like leaving anything to chance. He wanted to be there on the scene should any unexpected crises be thrown up, not halfway round the world with a blackmailing thief.

The inter-connecting door opened and Emily burst into his private space, a space not even his executive secretary or PA were permitted to enter. More curls had sprung free from the bun she’d wedged her hair in, ebony tendrils falling over her face and down her back.

Without any preliminaries, she launched straight in. ‘If I agree to effectively be kidnapped by you, I want it in writing that you’ll exonerate my father from any and all charges.’

‘I’ve already agreed to that.’

‘I want your written guarantee. I doubt he’ll ever be in a position to return to work, so I also want you to back-date the money he’s been denied since being under suspension. And I want you to give him a decent pay-off of, say, a quarter of a million pounds.’

Pascha shock his head, almost laughing at her nerve. ‘Your demands are ridiculous.’

She shrugged mutinously. ‘That’s what I want. If you agree to my demands, then I will agree to your demands.’

‘I think you forget who is in the driving seat. I’m not the one whose father’s future hangs in the balance.’

‘True. But your wish for secrecy over your involvement in the Plushenko deal is in the balance.’ Here, her face transformed, lighting up with faux sweetness. ‘Either you agree to my demands or I whistle it to the world. We can call it a deal of mutual benefit or, if you prefer, mutually beneficial blackmail.’

Emily had never been on the receiving end of such pure loathing before. It radiated off him like a rippling wave.

She refused to cower.

She didn’t care what the motivation was for his buy-out, knew only that it had to be something more than a simple business deal. Either that or the man was completely insane because no one went to such great lengths to secure a business deal.

No. For Pascha Virshilas, this buy-out was, for whatever reason, personal. And if he could use her emotions for leverage then she could certainly use his emotions for her own benefit—or, in this case, her father’s.

Now the ball was back in his court.

After what felt like an age, he gave a sharp nod. ‘I will agree to your demands with regards to your father, but you will disappear until my buy-out is complete. If at any point you find an opportunity to talk and are stupid enough to take it, our deal will be null and void and I will personally ruin the pair of you.’

* * *

Pascha pulled up outside the house in the London suburb Emily had given him as her address.

‘You live here?’ The cosy, mock-Tudor house was nothing like the home he’d imagined she would have. ‘This is my father’s home,’ she answered shortly. ‘I rented my flat out and moved back in a month ago.’

‘That must have been a come-down, moving back in with your parents.’

She fixed him with a hard stare. ‘Do not presume to know me or know anything about my life. Give me twenty minutes. I need to arrange some matters and get my stuff together.’

He opened his door before returning the stare. ‘I’m coming in with you.’

‘You certainly are not.’

‘I’m not giving you a choice. Until we get to your destination, you’re not leaving my sight.’

The fire running in her eyes sparked. ‘To be clear, if you say or do anything to upset my father then our agreement can go to hell.’

‘Then you will be the one dealing with the consequences.’

‘As will you.’ Before his eyes, her face transformed, the hardness softening to become almost childlike. ‘Please, Pascha. He’s in a very bad place. You probably won’t even see him but, if you do, please be kind.’