Barely a minute later, he phoned her. ‘Lunch?’ His dark deep voice sent a sensitised shiver down her taut spinal cord.

‘Sorry, I’m too busy.’

‘What do you think I am?’ he riposted.

‘Are you really not going to make a donation to Futures unless I go out with you?’ Abbey heard herself demand without even being aware that she was going to ask that question. It told her how much that concern had been playing on her mind, even though she had told herself that she shouldn’t allow his unfair tactics to weigh on her conscience.

‘I never say what I don’t mean.’

Abbey grimaced at her end of the phone. ‘Now I feel like I’ve deliberately deprived the charity of money that they badly need. How’s that supposed to make me feel?’

‘Hopefully bad enough to change your mind about me and give me a chance to prove what a great guy I can be.’

‘Over lunch?’ Abbey’s conscience was taking a beating and once again she was asking herself if she should be refusing to spend just a couple of hours of her time in his company. Certainly if self-belief was a plus, he was very confident that he could win her approval.

‘Make it dinner. Are you in or out?’ Nikolai prompted.

‘In…What time?’

‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’

‘My address-’

‘I already have it.’

‘We won’t get on,’ she warned him ruefully.

‘I’ll pledge my donation this afternoon.’ With that assurance Nikolai rang off.

Abbey replaced the receiver and stared at it as if it were an unexploded bomb. She could barely credit that she had agreed to see him again and that she’d allowed his tactics of bribery and pressure to win him what he wanted.

Nikolai was buoyant. He decided that she was a very clever woman. He had been keen, but now he was considerably keener. He was convinced that Abbey Carmichael knew how to play a man to heighten his interest. He instructed Sveta to contact the charity and announce his donation, and he put Olya in pursuit of the blue evening gown that Abby had modelled at the charity fashion show.