by Bella Rose
A tingle started somewhere below her belly and began to sent tendrils of warm excitement shooting through her body. She tried to keep her countenance serene, but it was becoming a struggle to pretend she was unaffected by Mikhail’s presence.
Courtney sucked in a deep breath. What had they been talking about? Oh right. He was alive. “My father told me that you got killed in some gangland brawl or something.”
“What?”
The word was so loud that it ricocheted off the walls inside the reception hall and made just about everyone nearby turn around to stare. Courtney looked around, feeling embarrassed. “You don’t need to make a scene. It’s not a big deal.”
“Your father told you that I was dead and you don’t think that’s a big deal.” He curled his lip, looking scary. Odd, but that turned her on even more. She was obviously out of her mind. She should have been running the opposite way by now. The man was looking positively scary.
MIKHAIL WAS ALMOST certain he was about to blow his top. He could actually see that bastard Piers-Cameron watching him dance with Courtney. The guy had the audacity to act upset by it. As if Mikhail should be ashamed of himself still, to be seen with Piers-Cameron’s daughter. Even though Mikhail was the one with more money, more social standing, and more clout than the uppity bastard would ever admit.
Feeling reckless, Mikhail twirled Courtney right over to her father’s side. The old man blanched as he realized what was about to happen. Then Mikhail stopped moving and put his arm loosely around Courtney’s shoulders. “I just heard the most fascinating story, Gordon.”
“Is that right?”
It was odd, but good old Gordon didn’t even bother to pretend that they didn’t know each other. Usually when his friends were around he pretended that he had no idea who Mikhail was. The two of them had been “introduced” so many times that Mikhail had long ago lost track.
“Courtney shared with me that you told her all those years ago that I was dead.” Mikhail didn’t bother to change the flat tone in his voice. He wanted Gordon to know that this pissed him off. “But don’t worry. I’ve disabused her of that ridiculous notion.”
“I’m sure she’s thrilled.” Gordon smirked. “Although she looks ill. Courtney, why don’t you let Creighton take you home?”
Mikhail caught a glimpse of Courtney’s expression. She went absolutely ashen faced at her father’s mention of Creighton Kemper. Why?
“After all,” Gordon said with an obvious boast in his voice, “the two of them are engaged to be married. I’m sure Courtney would like some time alone with him.”
“Is that right?” Mikhail couldn’t help it. He dropped Courtney’s hand and stepped back. “Then far be it from me to stand in the way of two lovebirds. That would just be low of me, don’t you think?”
Gordon’s expression darkened. Mikhail thought about his revenge. It had absolutely nothing to do with Courtney. It was about Gordon Piers-Cameron. It was about a ridiculous and vindictive action done to a young man who had been trying so hard to leave his questionable roots and connections behind. Gordon would pay. But Courtney wasn’t a part of this. She was nothing.
“Courtney.” Mikhail gave a little bow. “Thank you for the dance. I think I’ll leave you to your fiancé now and be on my way.” He didn’t even bother to hide the dismissive cant of his expression. “I have more important things to see to at the moment, and I do believe poor Creighton is headed in this direction now anyway.”
The last thing Mikhail saw before he turned away was the look of horror on Courtney’s face. If she was engaged to the man, why did she look so sickened by the idea of being anywhere near him? And why did Mikhail care? This wasn’t his problem. At least, Courtney wasn’t his problem. And if she was happily married to Creighton Kemper and settled far away before the shit hit the fan, that was all the better.
Chapter Three
“How could you?” Courtney snarled at her father. “Engaged? I’m not engaged. You promised!”
“Well, now I’ve changed my mind.”
It disgusted Courtney to see how her father pandered to the people around him. He was so busy smiling, nodding, and waving to make sure that he was seen and acknowledged by everyone who mattered, that he completely failed to see what was right in front of his damn face.
“I’m not marrying Creighton,” she said slowly. “I’m not going to do it.”
“Yes. You are.” Her father turned and she could see the arrogant set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes. “You haven’t done a damn thing for this family since you were born. Now I’m telling you that you’re going to marry Creighton, or we’re all going to be so far up a creek without a paddle that it won’t matter what you want.”
Wait. What? Courtney tried to wrap her mind around what she was hearing. “Are you saying we’re in trouble?”
“Shut up.” He actually said the words through his totally fake smile. “We don’t talk about such things in public.”
“So it’s true!” She felt sick to her stomach. “You’re marrying me to Creighton because his family is richer than Midas.”
“You need money to survive, pumpkin.”
“No.” She hated that notion, and she especially hated that people assumed that about her. “I don’t. You do. So why don’t you marry Creighton.”
Her father took her arm, making a big show of the daddy-daughter thing and even giving some sweetie-pie looks to the people around them just before he pinched her beneath her arm and dragged her back behind the potted plant where she had hidden earlier.
Gordon Piers-Cameron grabbed her face and held on so tightly that her eyes started to water from the pain. “Look here, you ungrateful little bitch!” he snarled. “You are going to marry that twit, and then you are going to use whatever funds you gain to put capital back into our company so it doesn’t collapse.”
“Why would I do that?” she asked belligerently. “Because you’ve been so kind to me over the years? Or maybe because you lied to me about Mikhail!”
“Don’t be foolish!” Her father totally brushed that off as though it didn’t matter at all. “He was a nobody. He is still a nobody, and he will always be a nobody. You’re too good for him. You know it. That’s why it was so easy to convince you that he was gone for good. Somewhere in that hard head of yours, you knew it was better that way.”
Courtney stared at her father, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. “I cried myself to sleep every single night for over a year! I loved him. I wanted to be with him. And you told me that he was dead and I would never ever see him again! You broke my heart!”
“Then your heart was stupid,” her father retorted. “And it’s best that I told it what to think then, just like I’m going to do now.”
* * *
Mikhail had already decided long ago that weddings sucked. Today’s was just sucking far more than he ever could have anticipated. Who would have thought that he would see Courtney Piers-Cameron, have a little tête-à-tête with her father, and then feel as though he’d been gut punched because he was told that the stupid woman had gone and gotten engaged to some milksop idiot?
“You’re in a bad mood,” Toby observed as he approached Mikhail’s right shoulder. “Might I ask what has you looking so dark and broody? Keep this up and you’ll have all the bridesmaids over here ready to rip your clothes off.”
“All of them but one,” Mikhail grunted.
Toby raised his brows. “Having lady troubles? Mikhail? No! I’ll never believe it.”
“Do you know anything about Courtney Piers-Cameron?”
Toby shrugged. “Other than the fact that she and my wife went to college together? Not really. Why? Should I try to find something out for you?”
“No.” Mikhail should not care about this one way or the other. He should be consumed with his plans. They were finally coming together, and he had no time for ridiculousness with an old flame.
“In other words, yes,” Toby said with a laugh. “I can�
�t say that I’ll remember to talk about your romantic problems with my wife on our honeymoon, but I’ll certainly try to mention it if something comes up.”
“Gee, thanks.” Mikhail suddenly realized something. “Has she always been around?”
“Courtney?” Toby frowned. “I guess. You didn’t go to school with the rest of us”—Toby lifted his hands—“Believe me, I don’t consider that a failing of any kind.”
Mikhail chuckled. That was one reason he had always liked Toby. The guy was about as unassuming as the rest of his peers were snooty. And oddly enough Toby had more money, was more successful, and had more friends than the rest of them combined.
“I knew her a long time ago,” Mikhail said softly. “I just never thought I’d see her again.”
“Was that…?” Toby seemed to be putting the pieces together in his head. “Holy shit! That was the chick you had the hots for all those years ago?”
“If that’s what you call it, then yes.” Mikhail hated the idea that he was some kind of lovesick puppy-dog-eyes, star-crossed moron. “Although I prefer to think of it as being led around by my teenaged hormones instead of my good sense.”
“Hey, no judgment from me,” Toby assured him. “I get it. Women make fools of us all.”
“Which is why I’m going home before I do something else I’ll regret in the morning,” Mikhail informed his friend. “Congratulations and all that shit, man. But I’ll just catch you when you get back from your honeymoon.”
“Dude, you’re leaving?” Toby looked alarmed. “The photographer and that wedding planner lady are going to kill me if you’re not around for pictures.”
“Didn’t we do that earlier?” Mikhail was almost certain there had been a bunch of that crap at the church. And Courtney had skillfully managed to avoid him the entire time.
“Just go.” Toby heaved a giant-sized sigh. “I’ll just pretend you’re off screwing some chick you just met. Nobody would question that excuse.”
Mikahil laughed, mostly because it was true. “Later!”
Leaving Toby behind, Mikhail headed for the front of the hotel. Fortunately he’d gotten a room for the night because he was tired and more than ready to crash in front of the television for the night.
COURTNEY TRIED TO tug her arm out of Creighton’s grasp, but he was too strong. He twisted her wrist and pinched, silently warning her to stop. In the meantime he was busy smiling and waving to the reception guests flooding the big hotel ballroom.
“Stop squirming,” he said through his teeth. “Or I’ll break your arm in front of all these people.”
“I’ll scream,” she said bitterly.
“They’d just think you’re crazy.” Creighton laughed and gave an exaggerated wave to a local judge along with a big fake helping of his toothy smile. “My father is a senator and owns one of the largest electric cooperatives in the state. Nobody is going to believe a word against me.”
The worst part was that it was absolutely true. Even Monique and Bella had looked at Courtney as if she was nuts when she tried to tell them that Creighton Kemper wasn’t a nice guy. They made excuses and reminded her that powerful men sometimes had bad tempers. Then they asked her if she had provoked him. It was insulting and frightening to think that if she married this creep, she would be at his mercy.
“You’re supposed to be taking me home,” she reminded him.
“I will.” He ignored her request, stopping to chat with some older matrons—most of whom gave Courtney a dirty look when she remained silent throughout the exchange—and then Creighton finally began heading in the general direction of the exit. “I need to be seen, you know. A man in my position needs to let people know that he’s giving the proper amount of time to their event. It’s important to your friend Bella and her reputation that the Kempers were at her wedding.”
Courtney couldn’t stand him one second longer. Creighton Kemper was a snob in every sense of the word. There was no way in hell she was going to stand in front of a judge or a minister and promise to love this asshole for the rest of her life. It would be a lie. For both of them. The only person Creighton would ever love was himself.
She waited for a moment when he was completely involved in watching someone across the room. Spinning sideways, she yanked her arm out of his grasp and ran. She didn’t try to remain decorous. She just ran.
“Courtney?” Creighton called after her. Then someone must have said something, because she heard him say. “Oh, she wasn’t feel well, you know. I’m sure she’s just retiring to our hotel room.”
“Like hell,” Courtney muttered.
She burst through the ballroom doors and went toward the front of the hotel. Pausing for a brief moment, she tripped a little as she pulled off her heeled sandals. She was going to break her leg trying to move quickly in these things. But the front lobby was marble. Her bare feet lost traction just as she saw the great glass front doors before her. Before she even knew what was happening, her feet went out from under her. She flipped onto her back, rolled, and smacked into a pair of very solid legs.
MIKHAIL HAD SEEN a lot of things in his life. But watching Courtney Piers-Cameron sprint through a hotel lobby, lose traction, and then crash and burn was probably the most startling thing he’d seen in quite some time.
It took him a moment to realize that she was—very likely unintentionally—headed right for him. Then she tripped and went down. He lunged reflexively but it was too late. She landed in an undignified bundle right at his feet.
Mikhail knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”
His instinct was to touch her, see if she had broken anything, and ascertain that she was all right. But there was every possibility she wasn’t going to want him to touch her at all, and he didn’t want to infringe and make things worse.
“He’s going to come after me,” she panted. “You have to help me up.”
Courtney tried to stand, but her legs wobbled beneath her. She would have gone down had he not wrapped an arm around her waist. Mikhail frowned. “Who is coming?”
“Creighton.” She was craning her neck, trying to look over her shoulder. “He’s going to come. I have to leave. Let me go.”
Mikhail forced himself to remain calm. “Where are you going?”
“Home?”
“And he won’t follow you there?”
Her face fell and Mikhail felt bad for poking holes in her theory. She rallied. “Maybe I can tell the staff to let him know I’m asleep and don’t want visitors.”
“If I wanted to see you, that wouldn’t stop me.” He didn’t even bother to check the arrogance in his voice. “Come upstairs with me.”
“What?” There was a note of actual panic in her voice.
“Come upstairs.” He spoke slowly and clearly. “I have a suite. It would be the last place Creighton would look.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
Mikhail snorted. “Funny, but I don’t recall asking you to. You know what? I was trying to help. If you’re just going to be stubborn, I’ll leave you to your fleeing.” He started to remove his arm from her waist.
She grabbed on, refusing to let him go. “No. I’ll go up with you. Hurry, please? I don’t want him to know where I’ve gone.”
Chapter Four
It was tense in the elevator. At least, Courtney thought it was tense. Mikhail was big and silent, but there was no malice or anger emanating from his massive body. In fact he seemed almost serene. It was sort of relaxing to be in his presence like this. Mikhail had always had a baffling effect on her. She felt almost normal around him. It had been what drove her to want to be with him so badly in the very beginning. When her life was in a complete uproar, Mikhail had seemed like a rock she could cling to in the storm.
“Where have you been?” she asked suddenly.
He raised one dark, elegant eyebrow. “I’ve been here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s not a pretty story.” He looked as if he was done discussing t
he topic.
She remembered the night her father had come into her room and told her that Mikhail was gone, and that he’d done something illegal and had been killed. “I thought you had just left without a word.”
“I was asked to go.”
Something in his voice suggested to her that the asking hadn’t been exactly nice. She wondered if he was trying to say that her father had threatened him? Surely her father wouldn’t have done such a thing. He was Gordon Piers-Cameron, for goodness’ sake! He was a legitimate businessman; he didn’t engage in that sort of behavior.
“Your father isn’t who you think he is,” Mikhail said quietly.
Courtney sensed that as soon as the words were out, Mikhail wished he could take them back. What was he saying anyway? Her father wasn’t a bad man. He was just her father and he had other priorities. Right now, apparently his priority was to save his failing business. Of course, Courtney hadn’t realized that it was failing, but what did she know about the business?
“Thank you for helping me,” she said suddenly.
He was so close in the tiny elevator space. It felt like the ride to the fortieth floor was taking forever. There were several feet of space between the two of them. Yet she could still feel the heat coming off his big body as though she were pressed up against him.
And what would that feel like anyway? He was muscular and filled with power. She could smell the spicy musk of him mixed with a hint of cologne. It was intoxicating. She’d only been with a few guys and they’d all been what she would consider lukewarm encounters. Satisfying, but nothing that had really made her think she couldn’t live without them. Courtney had a strong feeling that being with Mikhail Krachenko would be a whole different experience.
SHE HAD TO stop looking at him like that or he was going to kiss her and never stop. The bemused expression on her face was paired with the dilation of her eyes and the gentle heaving of her chest. Her breasts were bobbing up and down, and he could actually see her nipples getting hard beneath the bodice of her yellow dress. It was torture.