A Bride for Kolovsky by Carol Marinelli Read Free Book Online

to HR several times—always at another colleague’s request—and Kate herself had made a couple of complaints, but there had never been any action taken.
    Zakahr was quite sure he knew why.
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    At five p.m., she stepped into his office, with a red mark from the cushion on the side of her face.
    â€˜I don’t know what to say!’ She handed him his jacket, which he took without a word. ‘Thank you, though. I’ll see you tomorrow—assuming, of course…’ Lavinia tried to keep her voice upbeat, but even she could hear its waver ‘…that I still have a job?’
    â€˜Do you even want this job?’ Zakahr asked.
    â€˜Of course I do,’ Lavinia responded immediately—because now more than ever a solid working history was vital.
    â€˜Then can I suggest you go home to bed and sleep tonight?’ Zakahr said tartly. ‘And that you eat something instead of relying on caffeine…’ She exasperated him—why, he didn’t know. She was too pale, too thin and too careless with herself, and even though it was far from his problem for a moment it felt like it. ‘Let’s both get something to eat.’
    Lavinia shook her head. Because even if she was starving, even if all she’d have the energy to rustle up this evening was egg on toast, the thought of being out with Zakahr—of an evening away from the office, actually talking to him—had her body on instant alert. She’d heeded his warning. She wasn’t about to toy with him. His company out of office hours would be perilous at least!
    â€˜I’m really not up to a fancy restaurant today—and we’re eating out with the King tomorrow. Right now I just want to go home, have a bath, and go to sleep.’
    â€˜Home, eat , bath and then sleep,’ Zakahr said through gritted teeth, not trusting her to do so. Taking it into his own hands, he stood. ‘You need to eat, and so do I.’

CHAPTER FIVE
    H E TOOK her somewhere very dark, very low-key, and actually rather relaxing.
    â€˜How do you know about this place?’ Lavinia had grumbled as they’d turned into a back street and he’d led her to what must be one of Melbourne’s best-kept secrets. As she slipped into deep velvet seats Lavinia peered around and saw it was filled with the rich and the beautiful. ‘I’ve lived here all my life and didn’t know it existed.’
    â€˜Concierge,’ was Zakahr’s concise reply, but then he stopped being her boss for a moment and gave her a brief smile. ‘The food is good.’ And she did need to eat. She ordered a snow pea and asparagus risotto, which was smothered in pepper and fresh parmesan, and layered butter on a warm roll.
    Conversation came easily, and Lavinia surprised Zakahr by tucking in to her food the moment it arrived—and even if she only managed a quarter of the large plate he watched with surprising pleasure as colour came back to her complexion and that sparkle came back to her eyes.
    â€˜Better?’ Zakahr asked.
    â€˜Much,’ Lavinia admitted—because the food had been lovely, and the company pleasant rather than challenging. Far from feeling awkward, for the first time in ages Lavinia found herself unwinding.
    â€˜You need to take better care of yourself.’
    â€˜I take very good care of myself,’ Lavinia responded, but then relented. ‘Usually.’
    Zakahr waited for her to elaborate—his skilled interview technique continued long after office hours. He chose to give away little about himself, and the easiest way to accomplish that was to ask about her life—but though Lavinia spoke easily about work, weddings and the like, she was surprisingly reticent when it came to her current problems. In fact, when Zakahr subtly asked the nature of her problems, Lavinia turned the question on him .
    â€˜Just family stuff—but then you’d know all about family dramas,