Russian's Ruthless Demand

by Michelle Conder

  ‘Were you a street kid?’

  Probably if she’d thought before she’d spoken she wouldn’t have blurted the question out like that because he stiffened and that untameable quality that made her blood quicken crossed his face.

  For a minute he hesitated and she thought that he was going to confirm her suspicions, that he was going to open up to her, and it surprised her how much she wanted him to do so. How much she cared.

  ‘Nobody could question your imagination, that’s for sure, Miss Harrington.’ He gave a short laugh as if her idea was ludicrous and Eleanore was embarrassed she’d said anything.

  ‘You won’t be able to keep the kitten, you realise,’ he added. ‘It’s probably got fleas. And worse.’

  Surprised to find that she’d forgotten all about the kitten Eleanore glanced around the floor guiltily. ‘I’m not letting her go. She’ll die and I don’t care what you say about the survival of the fittest. I’m fit and I’ll take care of her. Where is she?’

  ‘He is in the laundry.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled at the slip and for Lukas it was like the sun coming out from behind a black cloud. Completely dazzling. ‘My mistake.’

  She headed for the utility room and glanced down at the makeshift essentials he’d provided. ‘Um, Lukas, she—I mean, he needs somewhere to go.’

  ‘Go?’

  ‘To the toilet.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘It seems pretty happy with the floor.’

  She laughed and he found himself wanting to grin. Amazing considering how churned up he still felt after nearly spilling his guts to her about his childhood like some old woman in need of comfort. ‘A box and some paper should do it. If we have any.’

  Needing something to do he opened one of the overhead cupboards and pulled out a couple of older newspapers while Eleanore emptied some vegetables out of a box in the pantry. She cut it down to size and started shredding paper. ‘That should do for now.’

  She set it down near the kitten, who was currently hiding beneath the bath towel he’d placed on the floor. It hissed like a mutant snake.

  ‘Friendly little thing,’ Lukas observed.

  ‘He’s been hurt,’ she admonished, ‘and terrified. Give him time.’

  Her soft words made a lump form in his throat because he knew that some wounds could never be healed. Oblivious as she was to such things he watched as she bent toward the kitten and tried to coax it out of hiding. Her patience and gentleness shook something loose inside of him and he swallowed heavily to staunch the flow of emotion he could feel welling up inside of him.

  After making a couple of attempts to gain the animal’s trust Eleanore decided to leave him alone with the saucer of milk Lukas had provided but which the kitten had yet to touch. She glanced at the man who had shown such gruff tenderness when dealing with the kitten. For some reason she hadn’t expected it of him and it threw her.

  She couldn’t deny that she was curious about him. He was such an enigma; on the one hand seeming to be completely self-centred and uncaring about his impact on others, and on the other someone prepared to construct a hotel for charity and take the time to put a saucer of milk down for a petrified kitten. Someone who tried to make life easier for his employees and who thought about the environment when he’d constructed his office building. Someone she was starting to think she had gravely misjudged.

  But maybe that was hormones talking. Because he was also the most attractive man she had ever met and he set her blood on fire just looking at her. Especially when he looked at her in that way: as if he wanted her more than any other woman in the world.

  She stopped in the living room and felt suddenly awkward when she turned to face him. ‘You know, I did look into the alleyway before I ventured down there,’ she said, feeling the need to defend herself.

  Lukas arched a mocking brow. ‘And of course when your attacker didn’t announce himself with a warning placard like they obviously do in New York you just thought you’d head on down.’

  ‘No. I heard the kitten crying and I was worried about it. Plus, I know self-defence so I thought I’d be fine.’ And weirdly she’d never once felt unsafe in New York. In fact, living in New York had obviously given her a false sense of security because she’d never been confronted with a situation like she had been tonight.

  ‘Show me,’ he said thickly.

  Startled by the request Eleanore looked up to find his eyelids at half-mast. Her heartbeat galloped as her body responded to the unspoken command from his.

  ‘Show you what?’

  ‘Show me those self-defence skills that obviously made you feel ten feet tall.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ELEANORE COULDN’T DO THAT. If she did...if she touched him she knew her resolve to maintain a level of professionalism between them would go up in smoke. ‘I can’t.’

  A dangerous gleam had entered his eyes. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because...because I’m not in danger now.’ But she was. She really was.

  He moved toward her slowly, a look of pure menace on his handsome face. ‘Pretend you are.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’

  Eleanore didn’t realise she was walking backward until she felt the cool press of the wall behind her. Lukas didn’t stop until he’d placed his hands against the wall either side of her head. ‘What are you going to do now, moya krasavitsa?’

  Eleanore knew the word moya was the feminine version of my but as to the other word... ‘What is it that you call me?’ she asked huskily.

  ‘What do I get if I tell you?’ His own voice was low. Rough.

  Me! the devil on her shoulder yelled, holding its hand straight in the air like an overzealous schoolchild trying to do the right thing, and boy, didn’t she know what that felt like in her family! ‘What if I promise not to hurt you if you do?’ she said breathlessly.

  He laughed. ‘You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.’

  Goaded, she hooked her foot behind his calf, twisted and punched him in the stomach at the same time.

  Her hand felt like she’d just smashed it into a warm brick wall and her only saving grace was that she’d brought him to the floor. Unfortunately he’d brought her along with him and she was now straddling his waist on the carpet, something her old instructor would not be pleased with. Still, she felt gleeful in her success and, slightly out of breath she threw Lukas a victorious grin. ‘See. I got you down.’

  ‘Did you?’ His smile told her that she had only toppled him because he’d let it happen and then he smoothed his hands along the tops her thighs and all Eleanore could think about was the hard packed abdomen she was seated on top of. ‘You should have let go of your bag as soon as that kid grabbed you,’ he said gruffly, a strange expression on his face.

  ‘I was holding on to the kitten,’ she said dizzily, ‘and anyway, I didn’t realise what he was after. I would have given him money if he’d asked for it.’

  Lukas shook his head. He didn’t doubt that she would and emotion once again welled up from deep inside his chest.

  He thought of all the times he’d tried a similar trick when he’d been about ten and how many people had walked past without even caring about some stray animal in need. All the kids in his sector had agreed it was an amateur’s trick because if adults didn’t give a damn about their kids why would they care about an animal? But Eleanore cared and the raft of emotions swelling inside of him threatened to break free.

  The problem, he decided, was that she was like no woman he had ever come across before and he had no way of knowing how to handle her. Well, he knew one way, but a deep self-preservation instinct warned him that he shouldn’t touch her.

  ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like you,’ he admitted absently.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and shifted her wei
ght on his abdomen and every muscle in his body pulled tight. ‘I’m nothing special.’

  The words seemed to be wrenched from her throat and he knew she believed them.

  ‘You’re incredible,’ he countered. ‘Talented. Kind. Beautiful.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘My sisters—oof!’

  She let out a squeak as he easily flipped her onto her back, holding most of his weight on his hands as he loomed over her. ‘Your sisters would only be incredible because they share your genes.’

  ‘Oh...’ She gazed up at him, her eyes enormous in her lovely face, her lips soft. ‘No one has ever said anything like that to me before.’

  Something in her face, an innocent wonder he hadn’t been expecting, gave him pause.

  A distant memory of searching for his mother snuck into his brain as lethally as smoke from a burning building. Of those times he’d seen a woman with a similar stance to her, or similar hair colour, or with a tinkling laugh, and of him rushing up to her with adrenaline pumping through his young veins only to be hit by the devastation of having the woman turn around and be a complete stranger. It had been on one of those occasions that a woman had grabbed a nearby politseyskiy and he’d experienced his first beating at the hands of the law. Then he’d been sent to the state orphanage.

  The orphanage he’d been on the verge of telling this woman about when she’d guessed his heritage before. Along with the fear and the beatings and the abject loneliness.

  Der’mo.

  Chemistry.

  That was what this was. Nuclear strength admittedly, but chemistry all the same, and he was letting it addle his thinking. The fact was she was here to build his ice hotel and then she’d be gone. Sleeping with her would be nice—great, even—but ultimately a mistake and he was man enough to admit it.

  So why did he still have her spread out on the floor beneath him?

  As if guessing at his internal agitation she shifted, her thighs, and all those thoughts flew out of his head. She was smart and warm and good and so gloriously feminine. Everything a man could ever want. And he wanted her. Badly.

  Slowly he lowered his body until his weight just rested over the top of her, his eyes fixed on her face.

  Her eyes darkened with the same need that was firing his blood, her cheeks pinking prettily.

  ‘Lukas, I...’

  ‘Talk too much?’ He pressed his groin to hers and she made one of those soft feminine noises and bit into her bottom lip.

  Unable to think any more, Lukas lowered his head and took her mouth in a searing kiss. No preliminaries, no finesse, just open-mouthed and hot. His tongue stroking over hers.

  He felt her surrender in the soft whimpers she made and the way her arms curled around his neck, pulling him down to her. Lukas settled even more of his weight on top of her and registered her satisfied sigh. Registered the way her thighs widened to accommodate his bulk.

  He pressed into her, control a lost cause. ‘Eleanore,’ he breathed, unable to think of anything but her.

  Eleanore heard herself moan and tried to stop the desperate, needy sound in its tracks but it was impossible. She wanted to feel his mouth firm and hard on her body every time he looked at her and she was heedless to stop the desire that ran through her and burned her hotter than a ceramic kiln.

  Lukas was making sounds of his own, deep, guttural sounds, and they made her feel boneless with desire. They made her feel like she was the most beautiful, the most desirable, woman on earth.

  Ignoring all the reasons this was not a good idea her brain closed down and gave in to Lukas’s rough lust that felt like exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed.

  ‘Bozhe, Eleanore, you taste so sweet.’ His mouth ate at hers and his hands impatiently caressed over her back, urging her closer, and Eleanore couldn’t stop herself from pressing her aching breasts against his chest. He groaned and she wondered if he could feel the scrape of her hard nipples as pleasurably as she could feel the solid impact of his pectoral muscles.

  With her mouth still consumed by his, Eleanore was only dimly aware that he had moved her sweatshirt up her chest. She had put on her best underwear—an antique lace–style set—after her shower and had nearly convinced herself that it wasn’t because she wanted this to happen.

  He paused and one finger traced the upper swells of her breasts. ‘I take back what I said before. You’re not beautiful. You’re breathtaking.’

  Uncaring of how desperate she seemed Eleanore writhed beneath him and pushed her lower body against his erection. ‘Touch me, Lukas. Please.’

  Lukas thought he might explode at her responsiveness and they weren’t even naked yet.

  Driven by primal lust he manoeuvred her sweatshirt up over her head and tossed it aside. He looked down at all her creamy skin, the delicate collarbones, the full breasts with their hard crests pushing against the lace of her bra.

  Almost reverently he leaned down and stroked his tongue over those tight peaks through the lace and drew her into his mouth. Within seconds it wasn’t enough and he grabbed the lace and yanked it down, groaning his pleasure as he sucked and licked her naked breasts.

  This time she practically screamed his name and gripped his hair, massaging his scalp as he worshipped her body.

  When her hips started circling upward he knew she was close, and dammit, so was he.

  O Bozhe, but he was on fire for her.

  ‘We need to take this to a bed,’ he growled. ‘But first I have to tell Ivan I don’t need him any more tonight.’

  ‘Ivan?’

  Lukas rose to his feet and lifted her into his arms, striding down the hallway. ‘Da, my driver.’

  He laid her on the bed and Eleanore felt the chill of the bedspread beneath her. Lukas reached into his back pocket and pulled his phone out and started punching the keys, his breathing laboured.

  ‘No, wait!’

  Sitting up she grabbed a pillow behind her and covered herself. ‘You can’t send Ivan home. He’ll know.’

  He glanced at her impatiently. ‘He’ll know what?’

  ‘What we’re doing?’

  Lukas stilled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. ‘And?’

  ‘And then everyone will know that we...that we...’

  ‘That we?’ He raised an eyebrow. Anger was replacing lust at a rapid pace and he wasn’t about to make this easy for her.

  She glared at him. ‘Everyone will know that we slept together.’ She said it as if they’d planned to rob a bank and she’d just realised how wrong it was.

  ‘Last time I heard, it wasn’t a crime for two consenting adults to have sex,’ he said softly.

  ‘No.’ She wet her lips. ‘But I work with you and...’ She tilted her chin up. ‘And I’m not willing to risk my job over this.’

  Lukas couldn’t believe she was serious. ‘You think I’d sack you because we had sex?’

  ‘Not this job. Harrington’s.’

  He frowned, his befuddled mind struggling to keep up with her thinking. ‘Why would your job at Harrington’s be at risk?’

  ‘Maybe not at risk—at least I hope not—but everyone would assume that you hired me because I was sleeping with you.’

  ‘Who cares what other people think?’

  ‘I do,’ she said stiffly. ‘Your reputation might not mean much to you but mine means a lot to me.’

  ‘Well, far be it from me to ruin your reputation printsessa,’ Lukas scathed, irrationally angry that she was putting work ahead of him. Irrationally angry that he would put nothing ahead of her right now and didn’t that just show him that he hadn’t learned the hard lessons from his childhood as well as he’d thought he had.

  As soon as Lukas stormed from the room Eleanore realised he had taken her comment the wrong way.

 
Grabbing a T-shirt from her drawer she quickly shoved it on and saw Lukas pacing around the living room in search of his jacket that was right in front of him on the back of a dining chair. ‘I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It’s just that if rumours started up about us and Isabelle heard...’

  When she hesitated Lukas easily filled in the blanks. ‘Your sister wouldn’t offer you your precious promotion.’

  She made a rueful face. ‘Let’s just say sleeping with you isn’t going to win it.’

  Logically he told himself that her attitude wasn’t personal, that it was about her more than him, but as far as he was concerned logic could go to hell. ‘Maybe she hasn’t given you the promotion because you’re not ready,’ he sneered.

  ‘I am so ready.’ Her slender shoulders stiffened righteously and he immediately regretted the need to deflect his irritation onto her. ‘I have a double degree and years of business experience. I started working at Harrington’s during my summers when I was fifteen. I know the hotel industry inside out.’

  ‘Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because from where I stand neither one of us can give you what you want.’

  ‘God, you can be hateful.’

  He took in her flushed cheeks and her sparkling eyes. Saw once more that youth attacking her, felt again that knot of fear he hadn’t felt for so long and never for someone else, and knew he had to get out of her apartment before he showed her that hate wasn’t the only emotion he could make her feel.

  ‘I’ll organise the car to pick you up in the morning.’

  ‘I can walk,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘After what happened tonight you’ll take the car and if I hear you’ve ignored my instructions while I’m in London it won’t be your job at Harrington’s you’ll have to worry about.’

  Her chin lifted toward him. ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a threat. One you’d be wise to heed.’

  She looked like she wanted to argue. She looked like she wanted to rip him a new one but instead she marshalled all those polite manners she’d been born with and kept her eyes steady. ‘Have a good trip.’