Only One Man Will Do (7 page)

I didn’t think it was possible for this to get even more boring than it’s been, year after fucking year! But it has.

Alexandra stood alone, off to one side in the huge great-room where drinks and appetizers were served before dinner. She shifted from one foot to the other, her feet begging for relief from the spiked heels she wore to accentuate her long legs.

Her dress was conservative by most standards, made from an olive green silk blend with thin spaghetti straps that dug into her shoulders while they strained to hold up her breasts. The dress draped in the front, but no amount of fabric could conceal the cleavage that had always drawn leers from the men and jealous glances from the women, even at society events like this one. Some of her tattoos were covered by the fabric, and the few that showed were colorful butterflies and flowers in colors that complemented her dress. She hated having to dress to please others instead of herself, especially on a weekend night. She sighed with annoyance at nothing in particular and everything in general.

She looked around in dismay at the usual crowd of older men wearing tailored power suits with accessories that screamed out
disposable wealth!
The women were all wearing expensive jewelry with their revealing gowns designed to show off their salon-tanned and toned bodies.

Hmm, wonder how many hours she spends at the gym getting her arms that thin? Too bad she can’t do anything about her bony ass. And those implants of hers? Honey, these girls are real…yours look like they’re gonna explode any minute. Judging by the amount of silicon that must be in them we’ll all have to run for cover!

To cover up her smile, she took another sip from her glass of Riesling and snuck a quick look at her watch.

I wonder if Dmitri is already at the bar. He told me he wouldn’t miss me too much, since the other females in my gang will be there. I wonder which one of them he’ll go home with. And why should I care? I don’t wanna be tied down to just him…so he’s gotta be free to fuck other women too, right? But if he does, should I make him start using a condom? Or should I figure that as long as it’s one of my friends, she’s clean? But if it’s not someone I know? Then what? And how will I know?

Alexandra was so busy with her thoughts she didn’t hear her Father approaching her from behind. When he cleared his throat she turned and almost swallowed her tongue.

“Alex, I’ve been looking for you all over! I know you don’t like when I introduce you to men not directly in our business, but this man here represents a conglomerate of interests from Russia. They aren’t big in the US market yet, but if they ever get to the point where they need our expertise, it would be nice if we knew we would be in the running at least for an interview. Isn’t that right, Dmitri?”

Dmitri wore a European-styled power suit so tailored to him it had to be hand-made. It flawlessly hugged every part of his body, accentuating his broad shoulders and tapered waist. The trousers had generous pleats in the front for a smoother line, amply covering up what Alexandra knew was under them, making her mouth go dry as she forced herself to not stare. His shoes looked to be hand-tooled Italian leather Oxfords, and his conservative tie was held in place by a tack with a diamond encrusted on it. As he held out his hand to shake hers, Alexandra idly noticed the cuff links on his sleeves had the same diamonds on them as his tie tack. The overall impression she got from looking at him was this was a man born to wealth, who only walked among the plebeians when he had to; otherwise he stayed on Mount Olympus, within his own social group.

She tried to speak, but had no voice. She cleared her throat and tried again, her hand still held in Dmitri’s massive paw as both men waited patiently for her to acknowledge him.

“I’m please to meet you, mister…” she began then turned to her dad, her hand still being held. “What did you say his name was?”

“Dmitri Illyanovich.” Her father smiled at the man. “I did pronounce it right, didn’t I?”

For Dad to be so ingratiating, he’s totally under Dmitri’s spell! Either that, or I’ve been played for a fool in a major way. What the fuck?

Alexandra felt her face begin to hurt as the fake smile she wore caused muscle fatigue. Her eyes searched Dmitri’s face but he kept up the act of never having met her before.

“This is your lovely daughter who runs your company, Mister Blackstone? You are indeed a lucky man, to have produced such beauty. Yet for her to be as intelligent as the head of your firm is known to be, must be a source of inordinate pride for you.”

Dmitri bent his head down to kiss the back of her hand. “I’m honored to meet you, Miss Blackstone. I hope that in the future I can become important enough to merit some of your attention.”

Feeling her father’s eyes on her, she bit back her sarcastic responses and replied in a tone she hoped was neutral. “I hope so also. Father so rarely introduces me to men who can present me with an interesting challenge…” she hesitated a split second before continuing, “…in the workplace.”

While they stared at each other, Alexandra’s father glanced across the room to announce, “Ah, I see my wife is signaling to me from the entrance to the dining room. Would you consider joining us at our table, Mister Illyanovich?”

Without taking his eyes away from the stare-down with Alexandra, Dmitri replied smoothly, “If there is room at your table for one more diner, I’d be honored to join you tonight.”

He turned to smile at the senior Blackstone. “And please, call me Dmitri.”

“Excellent! And you can call me Thomas. I’ll tell my wife we need to save two seats. Come join us when you’re ready.”

Dmitri watched as Thomas strode across the room back to his wife and bent low to talk directly into her ear. She glanced across the room at them and nodded before they walked with her hand on his arm, into the dining room.

Alexandra had enough. She turned quickly and walked out through the doors left unlocked for smokers to seek refuge on the balcony. She didn’t stop until she had reached the opposite end of it and leaned against the ornate railing.

Dmitri followed her closely and, as she contemplated whether or not she would break a leg if she jumped, he spoke into her ear. His lips were so close to her skin the hairs on her neck stood at attention and a shiver ran down her spine before taking a detour to send the tingling sensation to the juncture between her thighs, making her legs shake.

“You don’t appear to be happy to see me,
Sashka
.”

She whirled around to face him. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find the right place? This is an invitation-only event. What the hell kind of conglomerate are you supposed to represent? And how did you pick my dad out of the crowd, to get him to introduce you to me?”

Dmitri smiled at her, shaking his head. “You don’t really want to know the answers to all of those questions. The only question you really want to know is why I’m here. The answer should be obvious. I’m here because it’s Saturday night and you’re here. Where else would I be?”

Sparks flew out of her eyes as she spat out, “At the bar? Fucking one of the biker babes there? Not here, intruding on my private life!”

He didn’t back off, but stared into her eyes. “Private life? Is there anything more private than what you and I have shared for weeks now?”

“Okay, my weekday life. My businesswoman persona. You’re not a part of this part of my life. You don’t belong here.”

A smile played with the corners of his mouth. “But that’s where you are so wrong,
Sashka
. I belong wherever you are. I told you when I met you we both wear many faces and many names. I actually told your father my real name, though your knowing that gives you more power over me than I had intended for you to have at this point. But it will make things easier to explain to him when we tell him we’re going to be married.”

“
What,
” she shrieked as her face registered anger and shock.

“Oh, did I say that out-loud? My bad. We’d better get into the dining room or your father and his lovely trophy wife will wonder where we are, since we’ll be missing the soup course.”

“Of all of the delusional, conceited, over-bearing…”

“Yes, yes, we can argue later. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

He reached out and took hold of her elbow and began walking towards the unlocked door back into the brightly-lit great room.

She walked without thinking about what she was doing, as her mind continued to try to process what was going on.

“But…” she sputtered as the door shut behind them.

“Later, Alexandra, we don’t want your father to suspect we have already met, do we? That might lead to some embarrassing questions.”

He glanced over at her and smiled. She glared at him as they were ushered by the wait-staff into the dining room. A quick look around the room led them to the table her father was seated at, as he stood up and waved to get their attention.

“There you are, you two. Where did you go?”

“Your beautiful daughter wanted to show me the view of the golf course from the balcony. She also explained the national presence that a company of your size and stature could offer to my partners, should we decide we need help in introducing our products to your market.”

Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of his daughter’s face, but he definitely approved of her continuing to demonstrate for their new acquaintance why the company he had built from scratch was so formidable. So he pointed to the two chairs he had saved opposite him from his wife, and he introduced Dmitri to the people seated at their table. As the soup was being served, he made sure Dmitri’s glass was full of wine and launched into a discussion of international relations as they pertained to marketing and sales.

While he noticed his daughter wasn’t her usual talkative self, he put that down to her working such long hours for the firm that hired them on a contingency basis. And besides, Dmitri had many interesting observations that at least the men at the table found fascinating as he compared the marketing environment of the Communist and pre-Glasnost USSR with the recent developments in Russia.

Alexandra watched surreptitiously as they were served each course, and noticed that not only were Dmitri’s manners impeccable, but he ate in the European style, holding his knife in his right hand, and his fork in his left, instead of just cutting his food that way, then putting the knife down to eat with his right hand, as was the custom in the US. She realized with annoyance he was more cultured and sophisticated than she was, having traveled on many of the continents, while she was
an all-American gal
. If any of the women at the table excused themselves to leave for the powder room, Dmitri would stand up in deference and respect, then seat himself slowly back down, without missing a beat of the conversation he was involved in. She didn’t really taste most of what she ate, but she drank more wine than she intended to, even though it wasn’t her first choice of what to drink with a beef dinner.

Once the dinner plates were removed and coffee served, the conversation became centered on what the chef, who was known for his desserts, might have created for them that night. Alexandra was only half paying attention when she almost jumped up in alarm as she felt something rubbing her right thigh. She looked on the table and saw Dmitri drinking his coffee with his right hand, and realized it must be his left hand that was now actively caressing her upper thigh under the tablecloth.

Dmitri turned to her to smile in a casual manner and asked, “So tell me, Miss Blackstone, will the weather ever get warmer here in Minneapolis? Or was I lied to, and the only temperature ever recorded up here is cold, cold, and colder? It is uncomfortably close to what I’ve experienced in Siberia and hoped to have left behind me.”

Alexandra tried for a natural smile, but his hand was insistently rubbing between her thighs. She tried to stop him by squeezing them closely together, but that only exacerbated the problem, since now not only were her thighs pressing on her clit, but Dmitri’s magic fingers had been captured also, and were continuing to stimulate her in ways she couldn’t allow with her Dad sitting on the other side of the offender.

“Um, we do get to spring eventually, usually by Mother’s Day in mid-May. Certainly by Memorial Day. Then a few weeks later summer arrives, and the good times roll until fall hits in September and the snow returns by October.”

He nodded. “So you have…what…three or four months out of the year that you can enjoy outdoor activities? Like driving a convertible or riding a Harley?”

Now he’s gone too far! Groping me and taunting me about my bike here, of all places. I’ll show him!

She began to push herself away from the table abruptly, and his fingers had to stop what they were doing before they were revealed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to visit the powder room. And please let the server know I’m not interested in any dessert.”

“May I have yours?” Dmitri asked with a wicked smile playing on his lips as he rose in respect for her being up. “I have an incessant desire for sweet things on my tongue.”

“Suit yourself,” she said tartly as she headed for the exit to the hall.

Once in the bathroom Alexandra spent an inordinate time on her appearance, even though she carried only lipstick in her bag. She pretended to be adjusting her dress and fussing with her make-up, to put off having to head back out to the surreal dilemma she’d been presented with. Eventually she sighed heavily and pushed the door open. Since there wasn’t any sign of Dmitri, she quickly hurried over to the bar in the great-room. The lighting had been lowered for the evening, and the DJ was putting the finishing touches on his equipment.