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Russian's Ruthless Demand

Page 16

by Michelle Conder


  He glanced up at the image of Eleanore smiling on his screen. Had he fallen in love with her? It didn’t seem possible but every single muscle in his body bunched at the thought and his heart kicked painfully behind his breastbone.

  There was no denying she had somehow profoundly changed him. The usual solace he found in his work had been missing ever since she’d come into his life and lately he’d even found himself unintentionally preparing his own list of goals in his head. Always in those unconscious moments the number-one position was family and number two was Eleanore.

  Usually at that point he’d deliberately bring to mind the sick sense of desolation he’d felt when Eleanore had chosen her work over him which was usually when he replaced that emotion with anger. At himself.

  He tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk. The only other time he’d felt that depth of despair was when he’d been twelve years old and he’d found his mother on a normal city street. After that he’d vowed he’d never chase another woman again.

  Was that what he was thinking of doing now? Chasing Eleanore? He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. His future yawned in front of him. A future without Eleanore in it. A heavy coldness seeped into his bones and he was once again that fearful little boy all alone on the train to Moscow.

  Only he wasn’t that boy any more. He was a man. A man who had choices. A man who had fallen in love with a beautiful woman who was too good for him. It was unexplainable and unwanted but there it was.

  Love. He let the word roll around inside his head for a bit. Tapped his desk some more. He saw Eleanore with the kitten, the way her face softened with tenderness. He saw the way she looked when she climaxed. The way she had looked at him when he kissed her. He thought about how much she made him laugh.

  He swore and shoved his chair back from his desk. He had no idea if she really wanted him in her life. He had no idea if she would reorder her list of goals for him but he knew he had to try.

  He stopped beside Petra’s desk. She didn’t look up. ‘I apologise.’

  She sniffed again.

  Lukas smiled. Clearly females with attitude were his specialty and he hadn’t even realised it. ‘Would it make you feel better if I ask you to organise the jet to fly me to New York?’

  This time she looked up. ‘Infinitely.’

  * * *

  Was five o’clock too early for wine?

  Eleanore kicked off her high heels and sighed as her feet sank into the deep carpet. Lucky wound his way between her legs. ‘Hello, baby,’ she crooned. ‘Miss me?’

  He purred and she picked him up. She discarded her suit jacket on the bed. Lucky rolled around on the duvet as she changed into old sweats and an even older Cornell sweater and finished the ensemble off with a pair of ratty old socks that were soft and warm. Then she carried Lucky into the kitchen and checked the circular wall clock that was designed to look like an old fob watch.

  No, five o’clock was definitely not too early for wine.

  ‘Not that you want wine, I know that.’ She picked up the empty saucer of milk from the floor and refilled it with the special kitten milk from the pet shop.

  While Lucky lapped it up she went to her fridge and poured herself a glass of Riesling she’d had in there for ages.

  And anyway, it was a celebratory drink. Today she’d finalised the sale of her shares to Isabelle and told her that she wasn’t going to take the VP job in Australasia. Her sister had been shocked but Eleanore had known it was the right decision as soon as she’d said it. Instead she’d informed Isabelle that she was going to use the money to start her own consulting and design firm.

  Things would be slow at first, she knew that, but she was ready for the challenge and Isabelle had said that once she’d squashed the Chatsfields’ attempted takeover bid she’d invite her to join the board so that she could still be a part of the Harrington brand. Eleanore smiled at the thought. It felt good to finally feel on equal footing with her sister.

  So all in all it had been a great day.

  And to make it a great night she’d eat her leftover brownies from the day before with the tub of ice cream she’d just picked up from Whole Foods. She also had a copy of her favourite romantic film on DVD to sit in front of.

  A text message pinged on her phone and she pulled it out of her handbag. Her heart sped up just a little but it was only from the businessman she’d met at the gallery. Since she’d refused to have a drink with him he’d texted her a couple of times to invite her out for dinner. Both times his text had come in late in the afternoon and what sort of man invited a woman out at the last minute anyway? One who’d been stood up, she suspected.

  It was almost as bad as a man telling you he’d call and then not doing so. Not that Lukas hadn’t called. He had but he hadn’t kept his promise to come and see her. And okay, maybe he hadn’t promised but—dammit, she wasn’t going to think about him again. It caused an ache in her chest not even Ben & Jerry’s Boston Cream Pie could ease. The only thing for it was to go cold turkey and not think about him or talk to him again. Which was why she jumped whenever her phone rang. It was because she wasn’t going to answer it if his name flashed up on her screen, not because she was.

  When someone rang her doorbell she nearly jumped out of her skin again. Since her building had security it must be a neighbour. A desperate neighbour by the sound of how quickly they rang again. Probably it was Penelope’s new boyfriend who had locked himself out again.

  Smiling she opened the door mid-knock. ‘Hello, Simo—’ Her heart stopped. It wasn’t her neighbour’s boyfriend at all; it was Lukas dressed in a crumpled suit he looked like he’d slept in. He hadn’t shaved either which wasn’t usual for him. ‘Lukas! What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘Who’s Simon?’ He scowled. ‘He’s not the guy in the picture?’

  He pushed past her before she could take in the fact that he was even standing on her threshold and she swung around to follow him down her short hallway to her living room. ‘What picture?’ She held up her hand and noticed it was shaking so she stuck it on her hip instead. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I told you I was coming to town.’ He glanced around her small comfy living room.

  ‘Actually, you told me you weren’t coming to town.’

  His gaze returned to hers and she had the oddest sense that he was nervous. He flashed his movie-star smile and she knew she’d been wrong.

  ‘Nice place.’

  ‘I don’t care what you think of my place,’ she said, fighting to keep her emotions at bay. ‘I’d like you to leave.’

  He ignored her and walked over to her low coffee table and picked up her glass of wine. ‘Only one glass. Does that mean you’re not expecting Simon?’

  Simon?

  Not waiting for an answer he sniffed the plate of brownies. ‘I know these are not biscotti.’

  ‘No, they’re brownies.’ She moved closer and snatched the plate from his hands. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You answer my question and I’ll answer yours.’

  ‘I can’t remember your question.’

  ‘Are you expecting Simon? Or perhaps that guy from the art gallery?’

  Eleanore narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you trying to insult me? Simon is my neighbour’s boyfriend. And how do you know about Peter anyway?’

  ‘Petra saw the photo of the two of you together.’

  ‘It made the news?’

  ‘See?’ He smiled faintly. ‘I’m not the only one who doesn’t read their own press.’

  ‘I hardly think it’s the same as...’

  At that moment Lucky snuck his head out from beneath the sofa and wound himself around Lukas’s legs. Half expecting Lukas to ignore him, Eleanore was surprised when he bent down and picked him up. He stroked his fur and the two of them stared at
each other for a minute. Then Lucky lifted his nose to Lukas’s for a cat kiss. Eleanore wanted to tell him not to waste his time. That his affections were fickle.

  ‘He’s grown.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her throat was clogged and her knees started trembling as it set in that Lukas was really standing in her living room. ‘Lukas, please tell me what you want? Is it something to do with the ice hotel?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with the hotel.’ His gaze shifted from her to the view outside her windows and then straight back. ‘It’s you.’

  ‘Me? What have I done?’

  ‘You haven’t done anything. Well, you have but...I want you.’

  He saw the moment recognition of what he was saying lit her eyes and she wasn’t happy.

  ‘That’s cheap. You couldn’t find any other woman in Russia to have sex with?’

  Lukas might have laughed if he didn’t feel that his whole life was hanging in the balance. She was angry with him so that had to be a good sign. Anger was better than apathy. Or worse, pity. Wasn’t it?

  He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want to have sex with any other woman in Russia. Or London. Or anywhere.’

  ‘Too bad...’

  ‘I want to make love with a woman in New York.’

  ‘I hope you brought your little black book with you.’

  ‘You, moya krasavitsa. I want to make love with you. For ever.’

  She blinked at him as if she couldn’t understand what he’d said. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Tell me that popka from the art gallery is not important to you.’

  ‘That what?’ She frowned. ‘Never mind. Would you forget him? He’s nobody.’

  ‘Ah, that is music to my ears.’

  Lukas stepped closer to her and threaded his fingers through hers. When she didn’t immediately pull away his heart beat a little quicker. He breathed in deep and the scent of apples calmed him.

  ‘Lukas, I...’

  ‘I’ve missed you. I’ve missed looking at you and talking to you. I’ve missed touching you and just holding you. I know I don’t deserve you but I want you, Eleanore. No one else can drive out the coldness inside me the way you can.’

  Eleanore felt dazed. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It is simple. I love you.’

  ‘If that were true...if it was, then why did you cancel the past two weekends?’

  His hands squeezed hers. ‘Because I was terrified. Right from the start I knew you were different from any woman I had met before and I didn’t dare let myself hope for more. Then when I saw how happy you were over your sister’s job offer at the party I expected you to choose Harrington’s over me and you did.’

  ‘But you didn’t let on that you wanted anything else from me. Not seriously.’

  ‘I know my actions don’t seem to make sense but...after my mother abandoned me I tried to find her. For years I searched for her without success. And then one day I did. I stumbled across her in the street. I was sure I was mistaken. She was with a man. I don’t remember him, but I do remember her. To me she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen and I can’t explain the joy I felt in that moment; the sense that finally I wouldn’t be scared any more. That I wouldn’t be alone.’

  Eleanore’s heart gripped at the pain she saw etched onto Lukas’s face. ‘What happened?’

  Her voice seemed to rouse him from a nasty place no child should ever have to go and he glanced at their joined hands as if he only just realised he was holding her. He smiled faintly. ‘She pretended she didn’t know who I was.’

  ‘Oh, Lukas.’

  ‘Then she walked away and she took my heart with her. After that I vowed I would never feel that vulnerable again. I vowed that I would never risk feeling anything for a woman again. I can’t seem to help it with you.’ His eyes held hers. ‘I love you, Eleanore. I love everything about you.’

  Eleanore felt a watery grin slip across her face. ‘You do?’

  ‘Completely. Totally. Absolyutno.’

  Tears trembled on her lashes. She loosened his grip on her fingers and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her nose against his chest. ‘I love you too. I love you so much it scares me.’

  Lukas kissed her. An endless kiss that drove any lingering doubts about how he felt right out of her head.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ She stared up at him. ‘I thought...I thought that you were just playing a game with me. That once I’d capitulated you didn’t want me any more.’

  ‘Not want you? Eleanore, moya lyubov, it is not humanly possible to want you more than I do. You make me feel whole. You make me feel warm again. I’ve been so miserable these past two weeks Petra has threatened to quit.’

  ‘Petra? I don’t believe it. She adores you.’

  ‘And fortunately she’s canny enough to know that I adore you. That my life is empty without you in it.’ He took her face between his hands. ‘I’ve thought about this a lot and I want the whole package, Eleanore. Marriage. Kids.’ Lucky wove between their legs, purring. ‘A cat.’

  ‘Oh, Lukas. I want that too.’

  ‘And I know your goals are important to you and that your new positon in Australasia is...’

  ‘I’m not working for Harrington’s any more,’ she interrupted. ‘You helped me see that in many ways I was using Harrington’s to prove my worth to my family—and myself—and that I’m limiting my true potential by doing that. So I’ve skipped along to goal number three and decided to start my own consulting business.’

  ‘Consulting?’

  ‘I’m good at it.’

  Lukas gathered her closer. ‘You are.’

  Her smile made his heart soar. ‘Any idea where you want to set up this business?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe in Rossiya.’

  Lukas winced at her botched pronunciation. ‘Not until I’ve taught you a few Russian words perhaps.’ He smiled but his tone turned serious. ‘But really, Eleanore, if you want to stay in America, then I can shift my headquarters to here.’

  ‘You would do that? You’d leave St Petersburg?’

  Lukas turned her face up to his and kissed her sweetly on the lips. ‘I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that by now?’

  She leaned into him. ‘I would never ask you to leave because I know the school you want to build is important to you and the kids need you. But maybe we could divide our time between the two?’

  ‘Whatever makes you happy, moya krasavitsa. Which reminds me.’ He released his hold on her. ‘I have something to show you.’

  He dragged her to the window that overlooked her quiet street and raised the squeaky sash. Curious, Eleanore lent her head outside and a wide grin split her face. ‘It’s a horse-drawn carriage!’

  ‘Da. I organised a sleigh from Boston but there is not enough snow in New York to drive it.’ He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I am hoping this alternative is still considered romantic.’

  She gazed at the ornate carriage and waved at the uniformed driver. ‘It’s very romantic.’

  When she turned back inside Lukas was on bended knee with a ring box in his hand and a definite look of nervousness in his eyes. He cleared his throat. ‘I was going to wait until we were in the carriage but...about goal number four?’

  Eleanore’s grin consumed her face as a feeling of happiness threatened to burst right out of her chest. ‘What about it?’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m hoping to make it goal number one.’ He opened the box and the most exquisite emerald ring sat nestled in a bed of red silk. ‘Eleanore Harrington, I don’t know what I have done to deserve you in my life but I promise to adore you and love you and take care of you for all of our days. If you’ll have me?’

  Tears slid down her cheeks unheeded and Lukas stood to wipe them away.
<
br />   Eleanore raised trembling hands to his face and gazed at the man who had stolen her heart. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll have you. Yes, I’ll marry you.’ She kissed him softly. ‘How do you say “I love you” in Russian?’

  ‘Ya tebya lyublyu.’

  When she repeated the words back to him Lukas grinned and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her into a high embrace. ‘Maybe you can just show me, moya Eleanore.’ He slid his hands to her bottom and urged her legs up around his waist so she was under no illusion as to what he meant.

  She smiled. ‘Da, maybe I can. Always.’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this book, look out for the next instalment of THE CHATSFIELD: TYCOON’S DELICIOUS DEBT by Susanna Carr

  Coming next month.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  THE LAST TIME she’d run for her life, Sterling McRae had been a half-wild teenager with more guts than sense. Today it was more a waddle for her life than anything approaching a run—thanks to the baby she carried and had to protect no matter what, now that Omar was dead—but the principle remained the same.

  Get out. Get away. Go somewhere you can never be found.

  At least this time, twelve years older and lifetimes wiser than that fifteen-year-old who’d run away from her foster home in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, she didn’t have to depend on the local Greyhound bus station to make her getaway. This time, she had limitless credit cards and a very nice SUV at her disposal, complete with a driver who would take her wherever she asked to go.

 

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