Love's Captive: Pregnant With The Tycoon's Heir

on Nikolai Volkov rar

steppes of Moscow to the glass skyscrapers of Wall Stre

table draped in a cheap linen cloth that reeked of blea

ose only claim to fame was an electronics factory that,

belonged

uid within. It wasn't even good whiskey; it would scrape his t

ss the country club's private room. The brass candelabras were a clumsy imitation of

in an ill-fitting suit, signed the last of the transfer documents. His hands t

lt, not a flicker of pity. In business,

i had simply smelled blood in the water. The hostile takeover had been clean, r

local lawyer stammered, sliding the leather folder acr

nd, the platinum of his Rolex glinting under the yellow light. His head of security

baritone, smooth but weighted with a dark authority that seemed to drop the temperature in the

lai rose to his feet. He buttoned the jacket of his bespoke Brioni suit, a bla

main hall to celebrate..." the mayor of Oak Cree

urs," Nikolai cut in, not bothering to

ub's private exit, leaving a trail

eded

tion, mingled with cheap perfu

rated with faded photographs of 1980s golf tou

exhau

s a machine honed by marti

f beautiful women who warmed his bed and vanished before dawn, and a power that made governments tremble.

were shattered by a dull t

He looked down with cold, controlled fury, expecting to find some clumsy

e was no

igh. She wore a modest but well-made navy dress and little black patent-leather

. He was about to step back in disgust and call for whoever was responsible for this little nuisa

areful, Mr. Giant. Yo

ike, yet it carried an absurd authori

illionaire bankers weep with a si

rl's audacity th

he tilted her face

iled-gave a violent lurch against his ribs. The air left

ion of stubborn arrogance he saw

sn't the wo

s her

eyes of a blue so intense, so pale, and so cruelly cl

n approximation. Not a similar shade. They

lates from the dining hall faded into a dull buzz in his ears. Nikol

ur

essing complex financial algorithms in seconds,

eant conception had oc

ago. New Yo

nal, consuming passion that had made him forget all his rules. A promise whispe

en

is mind like a gunsh

na M

d from the face of the ea

na had handed him weeks later, had resigned from her pos

en payment for her silence and fled. He had hated her for it. He had

with a gaze that was a perfect genetic m

ntal whirlwind. She stomped her little shoe on the worn carpet, her patience weari

his adult life, the Russian tycoon, the man the me

ble force, he began to crouch, his expens

to raise a hand to her face, to test if she was a cruel mir

ce that emerged was a hoarse, unrecogni

ith suspicion, taki

" she replied, lifting her chin with

sure built in N

his da

usand-dollar DNA tes

he wild, frantic beat of his own pulse. Thi

d process the betrayal, the deception, and the blind, volcanic fu

thunder on a

, I told you not to run out

melody of that voice-sweet, slightly breathless with panic, with the soft, wa

lenched into fists so tight his knuckles turned white, his nails digg

ikolai Volkov rose to his full, imposing height. He lifted his head, and his icy blue

hed. Her eyes, dark and

grasp, crashing to the floor with a metal

her.

d the designer clothes of the women in

saw only absolute, consuming panic. The panic of someone

lood in his veins turn

hey had stolen his blood. They ha

ov never, ever f