A Bride for Kolovsky by Carol Marinelli Page A

Lavinia pulled down her top. She could see a damp circle form as the fabric met her breast, and pulled her jacket over to cover it. ‘I’m meeting Rachael…’ This was madness, she knew—just madness. ‘I’m supposed to be proving to Ms Hewitt what a responsible woman I am.’ Her voice choked at the irony of it all.
    â€˜I could come with you,’ Zakahr said. ‘Perhaps if she thought you were in a steady relationship…’
    â€˜Steady!’ She shot out an incredulous laugh. ‘You’ve got temporary written all over you.’
    He didn’t even try to deny it.
    It was madness, Lavinia told herself again. Dangerous too. ‘I have to go.’
    She practically ran—which was just as well, because Zakahr too craved distance.
    What the hell was wrong with him? That he’d even suggested going with her was… He was cross with himself as he strode back towards the lift. Cross that now another afternoon would be wasted, pondering the mystery of her, another night of ruing her games. He wanted her in his bed, not his head.
    â€˜This just came.’
    The receptionist rushed over, and Zakahr took the thick gold envelope, recognising its royal seal. But his mind was still on Lavinia as he scanned the invitation.
    She was way too distracting, Zakahr decided.
    Then he read the invitation again, and decided maybe some distraction was merited—just not at work.
    An idea was forming, and his lips stretched in an unseen smile as a plan took shape. Back in the office, Zakahr picked up the phone—and then glanced at his watch, realising it was too early to make a call to the UK. But with his decision made he fired off an e-mail to Abigail—he had already put her on standby: it would come as little surprise that he wanted her to join him immediately.
    Then he made another call, delivered a rapid RSVP to the lavish invitation while flicking through the photos of Rula and admiring the private secretary’s discretion as he went through the finer details.
    Actually, it would be great having Abigail here, Zakahr decided, as Lavinia’s phone rang out again and again, till finally it diverted to his. Abigail didn’t take endless breaks, and if she was away she ensured that at least his calls were covered.
    â€˜Belenki!’
    â€˜Sorry, Zakahr…’
    He clicked on his pen as someone in Legal asked if he had signed the contracts. He was about to say yes, to tell them they could send someone to come and get them, then he looked again at the photos on his desk. He thought of an already too-thin Lavinia, who had been considered too big for Kolovsky, and then Zakahr thought again.
    â€˜I’m not signing them.’
    There was a beat of silence, followed by a shout of incredulous laughter, then a suggestion that he was joking.
    Zakahr assured the voice on the phone that he wasn’t.

CHAPTER NINE
    A LL of it— all of it—would be made so much easier if only Lavinia was sure Rachael wanted her.
    Lavinia picked her up from her foster family—saw her pinched little mistrusting face peeking out from behind her foster mother’s leg.
    â€˜She’s tired,’ Rowena said, after introducing herself, and then told her a little of Rachael’s day. ‘She’s had a big morning at kindergarten.’
    â€˜I won’t keep her out long.’ Lavinia forced a smile she couldn’t feel as she offered her hand, but her sister didn’t take it.
    Rachael trailed Lavinia to her car and quietly let herself be strapped in. ‘I thought we could go for a milkshake,’ Lavinia said brightly.
    â€˜I hate milk.’
    â€˜Since when?’ Lavinia grinned, but Rachael didn’t answer.
    â€˜Maybe we could go to a park?’
    Which was far easier said than done. Lavinia had no idea of the local area, and they ended up on a rather sad strip of faded grass, with a slide, a rickety old see-saw and two