by Bella Rose
Mikhail started laughing. Not just a chuckle but a big belly laugh that made her smile in spite of herself. She hated to imagine what he found that funny. There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to tell her, though.
“Get off,” he guffawed. “I’d love to. Just put your hand in my pants and give my dick a tug, sweetness.”
Courtney’s mouth popped open in shock. Then she couldn’t help it. She dissolved into a fit of giggles that had tears clinging to her eyelashes. The man was insufferable and disgustingly arrogant among other things, and yet he was inexplicably charming all at the same time. Life was so complicated sometimes.
* * *
Mikhail came to slowly. He was lying on something soft in a very quiet room that was unfamiliar to him. Tiny streaks of light were just filtering through the blinds on the windows as dawn approached with steady certainty.
His head was pounding like a freight train. He was almost certain that he had done something stupid the night before. He could remember going to Toby’s penthouse in an effort to understand what the hell was going on with his life. He remembered finding Courtney there. She’d accused him of something.
A baby.
Mikhail sat bolt upright in the bed. That was about the time he realized that he wasn’t alone. There was a warm soft body tucked in beside him. The sweet familiar scent told him that it was Courtney lying beside him, but he couldn’t imagine for the life of him how that had happened. He was almost certain that she hated him at the moment. A woman tended to do that after a man called her a liar and accused her of sleeping with someone that she hated.
God, he was an idiot!
Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to get the bass drum in his brain to stop thumping. Unfortunately every single move he made only seemed to make it worse. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. He nearly fell on his ass as his head began to spin like a top.
He gripped the bedpost and sucked in huge draughts of air as he tried to get his stomach to calm down. Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to stop the world from spinning out of control. It wouldn’t do him any good to throw up right here in the middle of the bed. In fact he was pretty sure that Courtney would take great exception to being woken up in such a way. The thought actually made him smile.
Feeling shaky, he turned and let go of the bedpost. He made an effort to walk to the door. Then he made a further effort to head for the kitchen. It felt like miles. When he arrived, Bella was already making coffee. She was wearing fluffy bunny slippers and a blue robe. Her hair was piled atop her head, and she looked as if she had just rolled out of bed herself.
“Hey,” she grunted. Apparently she wasn’t conversational in the morning. That suited Mikhail just fine. Then she turned and saw his attire. “You slept in your clothes?”
“Apparently.”
“Does this have anything to do with the reason Toby came to bed so late last night? The two of you must have been up until the wee hours of the morning!” she accused. “You shouldn’t keep him up like that, you know. He needs his rest.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time he makes such a concerted effort to get me drunk in order to make certain I don’t run off and do something idiotic,” Mikhail assured her.
“Idiotic,” Bella muttered. “You mean like accusing my best friend of sleeping with Creighton Kemper? Do you have any idea how horrible that man is to her?”
“Yes.”
“He hits her!” Bella snarled. “And you sat there all smug and tried to say that he was the one who fathered her child! Of all the nerve.” Bella was truly muttering to herself by now. She put her coffee mug to her lips and sipped the hot brew without offering him any.
“Can I get some coffee?” he finally asked.
“No.” She glared at him. “My coffee is for nice people.”
“Come on, Bella,” Mikhail begged. “My head is pounding, and I feel like my insides are pickled. I needs a caffeine pick-me-up.”
Toby came striding into the kitchen then, looking disgustingly put together and almost perky. “Hey! There’s the man who downed almost my entire bottle of brandy on his own.”
“Is that what his problem is?” Bella looked at Mikhail with open scorn. “He’s demanding coffee.”
“Give him some, sweetie. Have a heart. All right?” Toby leaned over and nuzzled her neck before kissing her lips. “He’s really not a bad guy. I think we established this last night.”
“Wait.” Bella looked suspicious. “Are you going to admit that you’re the baby’s father?”
Mikhail wasn’t used to people being so blunt with him. “Uh. Yes?”
“Then I suppose I might be willing to give you just a little coffee.” She pulled out a miniscule thimble-sized coffee cup. “I think an espresso cup will do.”
“Come on, Bella,” Mikhail whined. Then he turned to Toby. “Your woman is vindictive as hell.”
“We call that loyalty,” Toby shot back. “And you did behave like an ass.”
“I think we have all established that.” Mikhail was feeling distinctly grumpy and out of sorts. His suit was rumpled and twisted into a mess. He could feel the shadowy stubble of his beard, and his mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton and then doused with crap. “And since I have a ten o’clock meeting this morning about the merger with Pierson Security, I really need to get some coffee and get moving.” He gave Bella a pointed glance. “If you don’t mind.”
Just then, Courtney came breezing into the kitchen. “I’m so late!” she gasped. “I have to go, Bella. Thank you so much for letting me crash here last night.”
Courtney smooched Bella on the cheek and went dashing out the door without sparing Mikhail even one teensy glance. The look of satisfaction on Bella’s face burned Mikhail like acid.
He sighed. “I suppose you’re happy now that she put me in my place?”
Bella’s only response was to pass him a regular-sized cup of coffee. Yep. Mikhail had some work to do if he was going to repair the damage he had done to Courtney’s opinion of him. The trouble was he didn’t know exactly how far he wanted to go with that project at the moment. What did he really want, and how did Courtney and this hypothetical child actually fit into all of that?
Chapter Sixteen
Why did Mikhail Krachenko have to be so likeable? It was the question that plagued Courtney throughout the rest of her morning. She sat in her cubicle and tried not to remember what it felt like to hear him lightly snoring beside her during the night. He hadn’t been in any sort of condition to be physical, but he had been surprisingly affectionate.
“Probably just a side effect of the liquor,” she muttered.
Her cubicle neighbor popped up over the wall almost immediately. “What?”
“Oh nothing,” Courtney said quickly. “I was just thinking about a problem a friend of mine is having. Nothing big.”
“Nothing big?” To Courtney’s horror, Janie gave a sly smile and nodded her head. “Yeah, I bet it’s nothing. Is that why you neglected to tell us that you’re engaged to Creighton Kemper?”
“What?” Courtney felt like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights. “Who told you that?”
“Well, my friend Iris works in Human Resources, you know?” Janie sounded obscenely eager. “She told us that you’re really Courtney Piers-Cameron. Not just Courtney Cameron.”
“So?” Courtney said lamely. “I don’t like to hyphenate my name.”
Janie rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that Courtney Piers-Cameron is mega-rich and about to marry Creighton Kemper. It’s all over the society page.”
“It’s what?” Courtney shot to her feet. “What society page?”
Janie disappeared for a moment and then waved a newspaper over the barrier between their desks. Courtney snatched it up and saw with horror that the woman was absolutely correct. Someone had pasted a huge photograph of her and Creighton on the main society page. The headline touted a huge merger of old distinguished famil
ies. It was all Courtney could do not to start screaming. She wanted to sit in a corner somewhere and stick her fingers in her ears and pretend that none of this was happening.
“This isn’t me,” Courtney said quietly. She shoved the paper back at Janie. “I wouldn’t marry that bastard if he paid me a million dollars.”
“Well, this says that he is.” Janie’s smug look of disdain was almost more than Courtney could handle.
“Papers lie.” Courtney threw the words over her shoulder as she picked up her purse and bolted from her cubicle.
She could not stay one more second and pretend that everything was all right when nothing was right. It was all wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.
* * *
Mikhail couldn’t seem to focus on his work. Everything was bothering him. Frank had put a report on his desk that suggested that there was really nothing going on with the Russians. They were quiet. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. Then he saw a ridiculous story in the society pages about the upcoming nuptials between Creighton Kemper and Courtney Piers-Cameron.
“Dammit to hell!”
Mikhail wadded up the newspaper and lobbed it across the room. He began pacing energetic circles around his office. He had woken up beside Courtney this morning. The woman was carrying his child. He didn’t know what he wanted to do about it, but he damn well knew he didn’t want Creighton Kemper involved. And what idiot would run that story in the society pages anyway? It made no sense! Kemper knew that deal was bust. Piers-Cameron might wish his daughter would marry Kemper and pull his backside out of the fire, but he couldn’t really be that stupid. Could he?
Mikhail stomped to his desk and pushed the page button that would connect him to Frank’s cell phone. It took the man two seconds to respond. Mikhail didn’t even let him speak. “Find out who ran that idiotic story in the paper about Kemper and Courtney.”
“Yes, boss.”
Was it Mikhail’s imagination, or did the man sound amused? Mikhail shook it off. That didn’t matter. “Are you guys watching Courtney? I want someone on her at all times.”
“She’s actually fairly good at ditching our guys,” Frank mused. “I’ll double the tail, but I’m not sure how well we can continue to protect her without actually telling her what we’re doing.”
“Just do it.”
“What’s eating you?” Frank wanted to know.
“I don’t know!” Mikhail shoved his fingers through his hair. “It’s too quiet. And then there is this ridiculous article. It’s like someone wants us to be complacent.”
“And you think the Russians are behind this?” Frank sounded dubious. “Are you sure you’re not just feeling paranoid?”
That word! Mikhail hadn’t felt this paranoid in years. He’d been out of the mafia. He wasn’t a part of that world anymore. He didn’t want to be like his father, and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to dredge up the past any more than was absolutely necessary. He had put that life behind him. That man was no more. He was a legitimate businessman. That was all that mattered.
“Just find out what’s going on,” Mikhail told Frank. “I trust my gut. It’s kept me alive this long. I’d be a fool to ignore it now. I know I sound paranoid. Maybe I have good reason to be. Just do it and stop giving me shit.”
Frank clicked off without another word, leaving Mikhail feeling as if he’d overreacted twice over.
* * *
Courtney glanced over her shoulder and sighed with relief. It was time to have a talk with her father about these men he kept paying to tail her. At least, she was almost certain they were her father’s men. Who else would want to follow her every move? She’d felt compelled to ditch the men every single day before she went to work. It had become a nuisance as much as anything else. Especially since she could hardly believe her father was still ignorant of her having a job. Was the man so far out of it after losing his business that he simply wasn’t paying attention anymore?
Of course, if that was the case, then it was a little strange that he was having her followed. She had just begun contemplating the possibility that it was Creighton who had put her under surveillance when a large white van screeched to a halt at the corner in front of her.
Time slowed to a snail’s pace as she watched the side door open to let two men out on the curb. They were enormous and dressed all in black. She had the odd thought that they hadn’t bothered to cover their faces. That couldn’t be good if this was a kidnapping. Then she realized what she was thinking. Kidnapping? That meant she needed to be doing something else other than standing here like some hapless victim.
Putting on the brakes, she turned on her heels and sprinted in the opposite direction of the van. She could hear the men shouting to each other behind her. Their boots made a lot of noise on the concrete. The hard slapping of their feet grew closer. Her lungs worked furiously as she screamed at the top of her lungs and tried to run away.
Why was nobody helping her? She passed people. They just turned and stared. Did nobody want to get involved? She saw a few phones out. They were actually videoing her. They’d video the event but not help her? Life sucked!
The men were shouting in something that was not English. She couldn’t understand them. But as she dodged around a big blue mailbox and just managed to avoid a set of thick arms, she knew they were upon her. Her lungs burned with the effort of getting away, and she knew she was going to be caught.
“Please!” she screamed. “Help me! Stranger danger!” It was the only thing she could manage to yell. Ridiculous words that only seemed to make people think she was kidding.
Then the arms wrapped around her, and she began to fight and wrestle. She bit the man’s arm, but that only earned her a cuff to the side of her head that made her see stars. She was momentarily stunned and silent. Then the van pulled up beside them, and her captor threw her inside.
Her butt hit the hard surface of the vehicle’s floorboards, and someone threw a bag over her head. It was well and truly over, and she was caught.
* * *
Mikhail was pacing again when Frank pushed his way into the office. Trying to work had become utterly useless. Mikhail’s instincts were all over the place, and he would not be satisfied until Courtney was sitting right in front of him and the two of them could work this whole baby thing out to their mutual satisfaction. Surely that was all they needed to do. Some plans or something, and maybe an agreement. Or something.
“Boss.” Frank looked as if he was about to deliver news that Mikhail would not like. “We dug around and discovered that Vasily was responsible for the write-up in the society page of the paper.”
“What?” Mikhail roared. “Why would he do that?”
“Five minutes ago our IT guys found video on the Internet of a woman being abducted right here in town. Apparently the general public and about two dozen witnesses all thought it was a gag of some kind.”
“Our society is screwed,” Mikhail muttered. “It was Courtney. That’s what you’re going to tell me.”
“Yes. We think so.”
“And the captors?”
“The IT department is trying to isolate a plate or something to identify the van. It’s totally generic.” Frank was still texting someone on his phone, probably the guys down in IT.
“It’s Vasily,” Mikhail said tersely.
“Are you willing to go charging in there without verifying that?” Frank asked quietly. “If you’re wrong, that puts you in a very bad position with him.”
“You know I’m right.” Mikhail nearly ripped his hair out by the roots. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Sir, we’re trying to verify. It could be her father or Creighton. We still can’t rule out those two suspects.”
Mikhail closed his eyes, feeling as though he had let something precious slip right through his fingers. She had been just out of reach his entire life. Now someone was trying to make that permanent. How much of a fool was he to give into his fear of commitment? What if something happened and Courtney died wi
thout his ever having apologized for being such an ass? Hell. He had slept in the same bed with her just last night and treated her with an almost callous disregard. How often had he screwed up?
“I’m not fucking this up,” Mikhail said furiously. “Not this time.”
“Sir?”
“I want you to do some recon. Forget verifying this bullshit on the Internet. Send a team to Vasily’s. If he’s got her I want a meeting. Now.”
“If you’re sure.” Frank looked dubious. “I have to say this is not my recommendation.”
“What happened to the team that was supposed to be watching her?” Mikhail demanded.
Frank looked chagrined. “She gave them the slip about five minutes before she was nabbed.”
“Then let’s do something right for once, shall we?” Mikhail was determined that this should apply to just about everything when it came to Courtney Piers-Cameron.
Chapter Seventeen
Someone yanked the bag off Courtney’s head. The brilliant lights in the room briefly dazzled her eyes. She blinked a few times as she tried to get the spots to go away. The room where she was being held was vaguely familiar. Her hands were tied behind her back, held together with hard plastic zip ties. She was in a hard-backed chair in a room with high ceilings and oiled wainscoting. The place looked as if it had been pulled straight from a movie set in the colonial era.
Yes. She recognized her surroundings. She had been there twice before with her father for various social functions. This was Creighton Kemper’s family home. But Courtney couldn’t imagine why Kemper would have had anything to do with a kidnapping. What point would it serve? Especially given the society page misinformation that had been printed in the paper, there was no point in taking her against her will.
“Hello, Ms. Piers-Cameron.”
The voice was certainly not Creighton Kemper’s. It was cultured, but accented—Russian perhaps? She turned her head, trying to see who was standing behind her. It was impossible to get a good look from this angle. Her heart began to thump against her ribs, and she felt the first few pangs of panic.