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‘Alexei?’

His head snapped up, jaw hard, eyes emotionless

For a second her name evaded him ‘Tara,’ he said

If she noticed the lapse it did not register on her stunning face It was a face that was currentlyher several million dollars a year in beauty endorseone nowhere

‘Everyone’s waiting, darling,’ she said s the newspaper out of his hands

It was the wrong thing to do

He had never struck a wo now, but every fibre of his body wanted to lash out Instead he froze Tara lifted her chin defiantly She was nothing if not bold—and wasn’t that what had drawn him to her?

‘You don’t need to look at that trash,’ she said harshly ‘You need to pull it together and get out there and put a civilised face on this whole debacle’

Everything she said was everything he knew, but so—some important mechanism between his brain and his emotions—had snapped Many would say he didn’t have any emotions, not real ones He certainly hadn’t cried for Leo and Anais He hadn’t even cried for his own dead parents But there was so to be able to control So in that child’s name in black-and-white in newspaper ink

Kostya

Orphaned

Alone

Tara’s ‘debacle’

‘Let thelish coloured by his Russian accent ‘And what in the hell are you wearing? This isn’t a cocktail party—it’s a fa’

Tara snorted laughter It was one of the traits he had once found appealing about her, her lack of self-consciousness—as if her overwhel, do anything, be anything