So Much More

by Cristiane Serruya

  “M-mom,” the answer came from Victoria.

  “Prepare yourself,” Markus said, closing his laptop and rising from the sofa. “She is as venomous as she is beautiful.”

  Hannah didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, not until the door swung open and a visually stunning woman entered.

  The sharp clicking of high-heels sounded out of tune with the classical music playing and even more out of place with the domestic scene of Victoria and Hannah surrounded by toys, playing on the rug while Markus worked on his laptop.

  Tall and lithely muscled, Nicola had long black hair that fell in a smooth curtain around her shoulders and her marked Hispanic features added to her exotic beauty.

  Clothes didn’t create a person, although they could conceal one. But if one watched closely enough, the real person’s nature would always shine through.

  In Nicola’s case, Hannah didn’t even need to look closer. The tiger-print skin-tight short velvet dress was expensive, she had no doubt, but it screamed greedy harpy, among other not-so-benign adjectives. And it made her too conscious of her comfortable lounge attire, bare feet, and simple ponytail.

  Moving across the room, Nicola offered the scowling Markus a sweet smile. “I don’t mean to criticize your staff, Markus, but I think they might be in need of a female hand, if you know what I mean. Your driver attempted to halt me—”

  “Nicola,” Markus growled. “We agreed I’d be dropping Victoria off tomorrow after dinner.”

  “Not really, darling. It was a concession on my part,” she purred. “If you recall, your visits must be supervised and my therapist thinks I’ve allowed you enough time alone with her.”

  He nodded stiffly. “Only because you breached our agreement, again and again, denying me time with my daughter and I threatened to have you held in contempt of court. And, of course, let’s not forget the ten grand Donovan delivered this morning.”

  “Markus, you know I was sick, and the money, it was to fix the boiler so your daughter can have her warm shower. Besides…” Her voice waned when she took in Hannah getting up from the floor. “The new nanny? Shouldn’t she be in uniform?”

  Before Markus or Hannah could say anything, Victoria, who had inched her way to Hannah’s side, answered, “Ha-Hannah is D-daddy’s dear f-fwind.”

  Stunned, Hannah glanced at the little girl. Victoria hadn’t stammered or mispronounced a single word during the whole day. She had a much more developed vocabulary than usual for a child of her age, and no problem using it.

  “A new whore? I’ll report to it the judge that you have been exposing my daughter to your sex addiction, corrupting her moral values, Markus,” Nicola said calmly. “Victoria, we are leaving. Now.”

  Hannah thought that was the most calculated tone of voice she had ever heard a mother use when referring to a supposed danger to her daughter and waited with baited breath to see what Markus would do.

  “Nicola.” Markus stepped up to her. “My time with Victoria hasn’t ended.”

  “I d-don’t wa-want to g-go wif her.” The little girl dove under Hannah’s oversized long cardigan and Hannah had to catch her balance as Victoria’s arms tightened around her thighs.

  Markus grabbed Nicola by the arm. He knew what was coming and just thinking about it made his gut ache. Doing his best to hold his frustration and anger back, he said in an even voice, “Nicola. Be reasonable, please. She—”

  “She is coming with me. Or do I need to call the cops?” she asked petulantly, pulling her arm from his grip.

  He snapped at the threat. Towering over her, he hissed, “You’ve been fucking me in the ass since the day—”

  “Do you really have to talk like that?” If Nicola was unsettled by Markus’s body language, she didn’t let it show. “It’s disgusting.”

  Ass-fucking is disgusting? You used to beg for it, you bitch. He shoved a hand in his hair, noticing it was shaking. “How much do you want now?”

  “My daughter is not for sale,” Nicola snorted and tried to circled Markus, who stepped in front of her again, blocking her approach to Hannah and Victoria.

  “Name your price—”

  “Stop it! Stop it, both of you,” Hannah cut them off, not able to keep quiet anymore. “What do you think you are doing, for God’s sake?”

  Markus turned his head in Hannah’s direction, remembering only then that she and Victoria were also in the room. He paled when he saw Victoria’s arms wrapped around Hannah’s legs, her face streaked with silent tears.

  “She is frightened to death,” Hannah whispered to him.

  I’m sorry. A dull ache mixed with anger settled in his chest. He hated this situation where he was helpless and impotent in the face of how his daughter was a pawn in her mother’s war against him. He wished he could just disappear with Victoria. But as much as he hated his ex-wife, he would not deprive his daughter of her mother, although Nicola wouldn’t hesitate to keep him out of her life.

  “Victoria. Come here. Now!” Nicola ordered. “You had your visit, now we’re going home.”

  “N-no!” the child cried, holding on to Hannah’s leg more tightly. “I want D-dad-dy and H-hannah.”

  Markus’s throat tightened. He couldn’t stand seeing his daughter cry, and he despised Nicola for being so heartless, unaffected by how she was traumatizing their child. He wanted nothing more than to keep her there and go back to laughing and having fun as they had been before Nicola arrived.

  But there was nothing he could do. If he didn’t want to violate current court orders and risk losing full custody later, he had to let Victoria go.

  Markus begged one last time, “Nicola, please, just until tomorrow.”

  Hannah watched as Nicola ignored him and advanced on her to grab Victoria’s arms with both hands, forcefully attempting to disentangle the girl from her.

  When Victoria clung tighter, determined to not let go, Nicola instantly switched tactics, letting go of her and asking with saccharine sweetness, “Victoria, you don’t want to make Mommy sad, do you?”

  Abusive woman! Gritting her teeth, Hannah had to concentrate on being quiet and still and not shoving the odious woman away. She was in an awkward situation, trying to stay out of a spat she had no business being involved in, while literally being in the center of it. She looked at Markus, willing him to do something, but his face was contorted in a mask of torment and his muscles were bunched, his eyes fixed on his daughter.

  “N-no, M-mom,” Victoria whispered with a trembling bottom lip, and her head lowered.

  “That’s my baby-girl,” said Nicola, patting her daughter’s head. “Now let go of her and come with me.”

  Victoria released her death-grip on Hannah’s legs and turned around. Just to break into a run and go straight to Markus.

  “Let me s-stay, Da-daddy!” Victoria gripped his shirt in her tiny hands, crying and sobbing. “P-please. D-don’t make me go.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. Not today.” Choking back his own tears, Markus wrapped his arms around his daughter. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m unable to protect you. I’m sorry I am failing you again. His muscles bulged as he tried to maintain his composure for Victoria’s sake. Besieged with agony, he kissed Victoria’s soft hair, his heart breaking with the distress and fear he could feel in the way she hugged him like a life-preserver. “I love you, princess. You’ll be here again sooner than you think. I promise.”

  The fact that keeping Victoria was beyond his control made him mad—and anger and hate were feelings he knew how to deal with. Damn you all the way to hell, Nicola. You’ll pay for this.

  “Victoria! That’s enough. We are leaving. Right. Now.” Nicola advanced on the girl and pulled her away from Markus’s embrace. Wrapping an arm around the little girl’s stomach, she hoisted her up. “I’m very disappointed in you, embarrassing me like this.”

  “No! Da-daddy! No!” Victoria cried out, reaching out her little arms for Markus as Nicola whisked her away, totally impervious to her daughter’s
suffering.

  He fisted his hands, lest he strangle his manipulative ex-wife, as he watched his daughter being carried out the door and into the hall.

  “Oh, Markus,” Hannah whispered, putting a hand over his fist. “I’m so sorry.”

  Hannah’s words shook him from his grief-induced trance and he jumped up and ran to catch up with Nicola. He wanted to hit something, preferably his ex-wife.

  He caught her as the elevator doors were opening. “Nicola, please don’t do this. Can’t we just talk?”

  Nicola stepped into the elevator, jabbed the button for the garage, and said, “Talk to my lawyer.”

  “I will,” were the words that passed in an enraged hiss through Markus’s closed throat as the doors shut and the sound of his daughter crying grew faint as the elevator descended. I’m so sorry, Victoria.

  Hannah felt very empty and hollow as she watched through tears as Markus knelt in front of the closed doors, his palms splayed on them, as if he could bring the elevator back up.

  She rested her hand on his shoulder, unsure if it would be inappropriate to physically comfort him in such a personal situation. Beneath her hand, a shiver hacked through his body. “We’ll get her back, Markus.”

  Men don’t cry, men don’t cry. But the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer fell from his eyes and a sob left his chest in a pained gasp.

  Screw inappropriate! Hannah got down on her knees and wrapped her arms around the broad expanse of his shoulders, drawing his head to her chest.

  It was so foreign to him, this unsolicited tenderness, that he stiffened for a second, then the feeling of someone caring for him—and for Victoria, too—caused something inside him to break open.

  With a curse, he reached for Hannah, his hands fisting in the back of her coat, his head burrowing in her neck, his tears wetting her skin. A razor-edged growl of anger and anguish came out from his chest.

  She could feel the violence of his emotions shaking him.

  His fingers tugged at her, drawing her closer, holding her more tightly.

  She laid one hand flat on his shuddering back as the other drifted through his hair.

  He relaxed in her arms, all his safeguards around his heart dismantled, his disguises and defenses crumbled to dust by her soft touch. And he allowed himself this weakness, this much needed release, and all the comfort she offered.

  “You’ll see. We will get her back, Markus.”

  Even knowing that her inclusion of herself in the battle for his daughter had only been an unconscious slip, for some strange reason, Markus felt more confident.

  Her soft voice washed through the red haze of pain in a wave of calming blue hope. It soothed the burn eating him up inside in a way he had never experienced before. It was as though she possessed the power to ease the storm he’d been fighting his entire life with just the whisper of his name.

  After a minute, he wiped his eyes and raised his head. But all he wanted right now was to lay his head on her lap and let her stroke his hair all night long.

  Hannah cradled his face in her hands and brushed her thumbs over his eyes. He repeated the gesture on hers. For a long moment, they only stared at each other.

  He looked lost; as if he was down inside himself searching through his scuffed heart for some mystery that he had yet to unlock.

  Then he leaned closer, just a small fraction. But it was Hannah who closed the distance between them and kissed him.

  Their lips came together so softly, Markus wondered if he was imagining that first contact, but when her mouth pressed more firmly against his and her fingers entwined in his hair, electricity crackled through his veins. He pulled her into his arms, sinking into her warmth with a sudden desperate need he didn’t recognize, deepening the kiss, tightening the embrace.

  It was far from the first time he had kissed her, but it was the first time she initiated it. It was a kiss different from any he had shared with any other woman recently. If ever.

  It was a kiss charged with the thrill of a first kiss. The kind of kiss meant to be a prelude to hours, days, weeks of coy dancing and teasing.

  It was the kind of kiss that held more than lust and bodies in heat. And it held more—so much more—than two people pretending.

  It was the kind of kiss that held true, deep feelings.

  Their parting was as soft as their coming together, her lips moving along his beard and fading off to his temple. And in that storm of sensations assailing him, the rapid thrum of his heart was the most confusing of them all.

  Markus put his cheek against hers and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “We will get her back,” she repeated, in a promise.

  Markus pushed up from the floor, stretching out a hand to help her. “Yes, we will.”

  CHAPTER 24

  8:00 p.m.

  How can a six-foot-four, huge man seem so vulnerable all of a sudden? Hannah exhaled a soft sigh as Markus paced the TV room, talking on the phone first with his father and then his divorce lawyer, informing her the hearing was set for the next day. And why do I care so damn much about how he feels?

  Looking back to Hannah, he caught her staring at him. “Usually when a woman looks at me like that,” he murmured in deliberate provocation, “I consider it an invitation to take whatever I want.”

  Hannah stared at him. He was a complex man, with responsibilities she couldn’t begin to fathom. A handsome, powerful, complicated man—but a man, just the same. Made of skin and bone and sinew and heart. There was love in him somewhere, wasted from lack of use and misuse, waiting for some virtuoso to play the correct notes, to let it be heard. Who are you—the housekeeper’s daughter—to think yourself a virtuoso?

  But she had to try because it seemed no one else would. Not even his own mother. “I was thinking that you looked like a man who needs someone.”

  You are wrong! He needed her. It was a need that went beyond sex. This was a need that came from a place so deep inside him that he had pretended it didn’t exist. With an impatient motion, he shoved his hand in his hair. “Don’t tell me I need someone. My whole life has been an endless string of someones. Another someone is exactly what I don’t need.”

  She heard it then, faint but recognizable. She’d heard it before, in his boasts and taunts: a small, discordant note of fragility beneath the laughter, sexual advances, and tantrums. “Everyone needs someone, Markus.”

  With that, he fell quiet. Because there was no replacing the emotional armor Hannah had disassembled with nothing but a touch, a kiss, and a few words, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. He was not ready to visit any of the many chambers in his soul that were devoid of someone special, of anyone who had ever truly cared. He wanted hours and days and nights of what they had shared in that kiss, and not a moment of feeling alone anymore. But he knew that it wouldn’t work if he didn’t feel her all invested in their relationship. Some of the loneliest moments in his life had been spent bodily entangled with someone else.

  She rose from the sofa and walked to him, placing a hand on his sleeve. He was tall, so tall, she had to crane her neck to look at his face. “Markus…”

  At the new tone in her voice, his eyes narrowed and he backed away. “Don’t start it.”

  Hannah had been infatuated with him years ago. She still remembered vividly how it felt as she admired him for afar. Nice. Dreamy. But what she felt for Markus now was raw and hurting and real. “Don’t start what? I merely said your name.”

  “But in that womanly tone which tells me you’re embarking on some vain attempt to fix me, mend the brokenness of my life. Whatever fool womanly…motherly nurturing notion you’re entertaining, abandon it now.” He turned his back to her, facing the glass wall.

  The city lights were muted, hazy through the rain sliding down the window, until it felt as if he was all alone in the world, trapped in a glass cage. It was a feeling with which he was intimately familiar. The friends he’d made, the relationships he’d forged, it had made the loneliness bearable, but
it had always been there, inside of him, this strange missing.

  He’d witnessed Hannah in the grip of passion, and she’d been like no woman he’d ever been with. At the memory of her lust, his manhood swelled in his jeans. All week, he’d been like this, randy as a lad with his first girlfriend, no matter how many times he took release.

  “You are being ridiculous,” she said calmly. If he thought a few words could shake her off, after the way he’d clutched her a few minutes earlier, he was so very wrong. “So ridiculous, I can’t even be angry with you, so don’t think you’re pushing me away. I know you’re hurting somehow. I know it.”

  His mood hung over the TV room like a storm cloud. “I’m not having this discussion.”

  “Fine. Deny it. I don’t care. I don’t know if that’s pride or what. But whatever it is, it’s not something I understand.” She suspected that making him feel safe and trusting in her would be the more difficult task. Too many people had failed him that way, beginning with his mother. “But I understand you perfectly. You’re so afraid, so choked with fear, you pretend not to care about anyone, anything. And when you do, you’re afraid to show it.”

  “Hannah.”

  “You can pretend you’re not hurting. But I can’t pretend not to care.” Hannah gazed into those dark eyes, and saw a tiny spark of vulnerability, of need. This man, so self-assured and so confident, needed her approval. Maybe he needed her. “Why don’t you give yourself some credit? You’d like to be thought of as a cold and powerful businessman, untouchable, and you are all those things, but underneath, you’re so much more. You’re generous, and occasionally, a decent man, who drowns in computer screens and paperwork worth billions.”

  His arm shot out and he pulled her tightly to his chest. “Don’t mistake me for a decent man. I’m paying you, remember?”

  She felt a languorous warmth invade her blood and had no urge to pull away. “You don’t expect me to remember that right now.”

  “Not at all.” He leaned forward, until his mouth was a breath away from hers. “I expect you’ll enjoy it.”