by Cait London
“Tanya is the family secret, Mikhail. Paul didn’t want the scandal of Hillary’s illegitimate child, or the possibility of social workers taking Tanya away from lack of care. You see, my half sister, whom I practically raised, lacks maternal instincts. Tanya was so adorable—she still is. Sweet, you know? I never could—” Ellie’s voice hitched as though holding back a sob. Then she swallowed, brushed her hand roughly across her eyes, and Mikhail waited for her to go on.
The flames crackled, firelight flickering on her face, catching her hair. “When Hillary couldn’t be bothered with an infant, Paul hired a nurse to take care of Tanya…. My sister was off and running with her crowd as soon as she recovered her figure. And I was there, checking on this beautiful little unwanted baby left with a hired nurse who didn’t care. Tanya was born just after the Amoteh’s opening. I was there, too. There is something special about seeing a baby born—”
She smiled softly and now her eyes were dove gray. “She gurgled, you know. Happy little baby sounds…”
A slight sad frown slid over her expression. Ellie brush back her hair as though trying to focus on what she must do. “I fought with Hillary over her behavior, if you can call it that. Paul didn’t bother to check what Hillary told him—and he didn’t want to hear realities from me. He was fine with the situation as long as there was no bad publicity. Hillary’s pregnancy was kept secret. She wasn’t married and didn’t know exactly who Tanya’s father was. Paul still had plans to marry her off for business reasons. That’s what his daughters are to him, you know—business assets.”
Ellie smiled slightly. “Tanya was amazing, beautiful and I wanted her more than anything I’d wanted in my life. I wanted to adopt her. I chose to marry Mark, because I had this plan that two parents were better than one. He came from a good family. He wanted me—or rather he wanted a Lathrop heiress bred for the life he wanted—and I wanted Tanya. I was used to business deals, teethed on them, and marriage to Mark seemed sensible. I liked him. We were very compatible. We—we filled each other’s needs. I wanted marriage, a home and the idea of a real family. I’m used to making trade-offs, Mikhail. I’ve made them all my life. I knew that I was exactly what Mark wanted, more of a business partner to make him look good. That was the master plan, to give Tanya a good home and a good father.”
She looked so weary and pale, and Mikhail’s instincts were to tell her to rest. But he recognized that she had fought hard and now defeated, baring herself and her pride to him, that she needed to take these last steps by herself.
Ellie was quiet and then another blast of rain against the windows seemed to rouse her from her thoughts. “Tanya was just six months old when I married Mark. We had talked about adoption prior to the wedding. He had agreed…and then he changed his mind. Someone had mentioned genetic defects to him, and he was afraid she’d—I spent the next six months trying to convince him that we needed to adopt Tanya. One of his ridiculous reasons not to adopt was that with Hillary’s frequent changes in lovers, Tanya could have inherited any disease, he said. Basically, he wouldn’t even bring up the subject to Paul. I did…I had to. My father can be…horrible. He believed that someday Hillary would marry and settle down and make a fine mother. So, I divorced Mark and adopted Tanya when she was two years old. Correction—I bought her from Hillary with everything I owned, and then I adopted Tanya legally. Tanya is my child—legally,” Ellie repeated, clenching her fists until the knuckles glowed white beneath the skin.
To Mikhail, the thought that a woman could reject her own child was unthinkable—but then so was the fact that his ex-wife had an abortion rather than have their child. His child. The past bitterness went tearing through him again, unexpected and dark and hurting. He remembered his ex-wife’s words. “You chose the Amoteh and this godforsaken piece of sand. On those terms, I chose not to be a mother, not to be stuck in this wasteland. When we moved here, I thought it was only for a short time, that you needed to make your mark in the industry and then we would move to civilization. I simply changed my mind about having a baby, and that’s that,” JoAnna had said.
Mikhail pulled himself back from that stormy, primitive edge, that anger and sense of defeat—because his marriage was a failure and divorce the conclusion. To be truthful, perhaps he was as cold and boring as JoAnna had claimed. Perhaps he hadn’t given her what a woman needed. Perhaps that was why his lovemaking had left her cold, why he felt empty and frustrated later.
He sorted through the years since he’d sent that crystal vase to Ellie as a wedding gift. With no word of Ellie’s escapades, he’d thought that marriage had settled her. Paul had stopped speaking of his daughters. Meanwhile, she’d been divorced and had adopted her niece. “And the problem? Why do you think you need me?”
When she looked at Mikhail, Ellie’s eyes were filled with tears. Her hand trembled as she lifted it to dash them away. “To Hillary, Tanya is just a…a thing to use. At first, Hillary hated her because childbirth had left stretch marks, and she’d lost her shape. I found Tanya, in her crib, alone at five months—though the nurse carefully locked the door before she went out with her friends. I vowed that would not happen again. Hillary was off somewhere, playing with another man, and she wasn’t concerned at all. After that, I was around even more. I basically took Tanya to live with me, and Hillary didn’t miss her at all.”
Mikhail remembered Hillary—wealthy, spoiled and willful, like Ellie. But there was a basic difference. Hillary acted and looked cheap. Paul actually paid her to stay away from business and social functions, but he wanted Ellie at his side to smooth any waves he created with his aggressive manners.
Except for the disaster of the botched real estate deal, Ellie was his little fix-it person—when she wanted. But if Paul and Ellie crossed swords, she was his personal disaster.
Mikhail did not want to share Paul’s fate; he had already been cursed by one sharp-tongued, willful woman.
The woman curled in the huge chair was soft and vulnerable, and a mother fighting to protect her child. She turned to Mikhail, her eyes huge and sad. “A year ago, Hillary said she wanted Tanya back to impress her new boyfriend. He thinks Hillary just had that one affair and excuses her for being too young to handle a Romeo type. He’s wealthy and family-minded and Paul is delighted. He wants this marriage. He’s obsessed by the idea of getting a Wall Street power broker into the family. This man’s first wife wasn’t fertile and he wants children—the complete family-man picture, you know…proving his manhood and healthy sperm count, and the family image for business, yada, yada, yada. He’s ready to claim that Tanya is really his love child. Hillary and Paul will support him.”
Ellie shuddered and spoke quietly. “I’ve used and sold everything I can to fight them legally—jewelry, stocks, wedding gifts, clothes—and six months ago, I started running. My father is a powerful man. He can make things…difficult. He sent men with Hillary to collect Tanya at the day care center—that’s why she has nightmares of ‘the big scary men’ trying to take her away. Hillary came with them. She looks enough like me, and like Tanya, to pass as her ‘aunt,’ and that was when I knew we weren’t safe at all. I was working at an insurance office, and I left as soon as the day care center called me to double-check releasing Tanya without written permissions—and we moved that night. Tanya still remembers that awful scene—when Hillary is angry, she can be violent…abusive.”
Ellie stood slowly as though she had come too far and could go no farther. She stood in front of him with the air of making a formal, desperate plea. “Mikhail, you are the only man who can help us. Will you?”
Because he knew the players, Mikhail understood the dynamics perfectly. Ellie was a fighter for causes she felt deserved help, and he knew Hillary’s selfishness and Paul’s determination to get his way, no matter who suffered. Now a child was endangered—if Mikhail could trust Ellie to portray the situation correctly. From his experience, she knew how to wrangle her way. “How do you see my part in this? Why am I the only person who can hel
p you?”
She smiled briefly, sadly, and stood like a warrior with all her defenses shed. “Because you are the one man who can match my father’s power, and he respects you. In short, I need an ally—someone to hold him off until I can get back on my feet. I’ve picked you.”
Mikhail tried not to notice the dark peaks of her nipples, pressed against the white of his shirt. He stood abruptly, and went to the window, considering the sleet and snow with his hands thrust into his pockets. “You’re asking me to protect you and the child. Correct?”
Her voice was too soft over the crackling of the flames, the howling of the wind, and the rain against the glass. And yet, he heard her perfectly. “Only my daughter, Mikhail. Do it for her.”
“You realize what you’re asking? Your father is not an easy man.”
“Neither are you. That is why you work so well together. You’re not his usual ‘yes’ man. He respects you for it. He needs Tanya to portray the happy grandfather image to Hillary’s new man, to look like she’s a perfect mother. She may play the part for a while, but when she’s done, Tanya will be tossed aside. Don’t let that happen, Mikhail.”
Mikhail remembered his last battle with Paul. The man was ruthless and in some cases unethical, and yet he was a shrewd businessman and carried no grudges when Mikhail proved him wrong. But a fight with Paul was always tough.
Ellie came to stand behind Mikhail. She gripped the back waistband of his slacks as though she was afraid he would escape her. “I know exactly what I am asking. This resort means so much to you. You want to provide employment for the people you love in this town. They depend on the Amoteh’s success. And to battle my father could endanger everything you’ve worked for.”
Mikhail nodded; Ellie’s assessment was exact. “I will want to meet the child…but I would rather not enter your family’s fighting arena.”
“I know. I told her about you…that you were kind to children…that you knew wonderful stories and loved little girls. I told her that because I’ve seen you with children at the resort and campaign functions. Don’t let my father and Hillary make Tanya into another emotional wreck, Mikhail.”
He could feel her body’s warmth, the scent of it, clouding his decision to stay free of what she had asked. “You’re still tired. Go back to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Her hand left his slacks to grip his arm, her fingers slender and pale against his tanned skin. “You’ll think about helping Tanya?”
“One step at a time.”
“Yes, of course. I expected that much from you. You’re very thorough in weighing your decisions.”
“Of course. We’re done for now, Ellie. Make the most of this time and rest.”
With a long, tired sigh, she moved away from him and he missed her warmth. The rustle of the coverlet said she had slid into bed. But in the shadows, he felt her watching him, pleading with him to help.
She reminded him of a doe he’d once seen—soft, fearful, drained. He’d been camping, resting in the mountains, clearing his mind of business. Illegal hunters had used dogs to run down the animal, and exhausted, she’d settled into her deathly fate when Mikhail arrived to save her.
Saving Ellie was another matter. It endangered everything he’d worked for, the people who depended on him.
Only when he recognized her last sigh before sleep did he turn toward the woman on the bed.
He was a fool for even listening to her. Ellie Lathrop was a natural disaster to men, especially when she wanted her way—a true Kamakani curse. Perhaps Paul would listen to logic—but more than likely not, if Ellie had portrayed the situation realistically. Paul had always considered his daughters as bargaining chips in marriages that would bring him even more power and wealth. He wouldn’t hesitate to use a child as a pawn.
Still, a child needed protection. Mikhail rubbed his hand across his jaw, and the sound of flesh against stubble matched his irritation. Above all, he wanted Ellie as a woman, and she would be a disaster.
Three
Ellie awoke the second time to a click of the big solid door. She lay quietly trying to pull herself from sleep into the harsh reality of Mikhail Stepanov…and the rejection he was certain to give her. Rest had brought the truth to her: Mikhail was not likely to jeopardize the Amoteh.
She caught his scent, felt him near, his presence almost pulsating around her, and her skin felt that prickle—like the hair of a cat sensing danger—just as it had last night. She didn’t want to face him this morning, not when he had seen her stripped of pride, had seen her cry, and knew that she was practically penniless, with a child she couldn’t support. Ellie had humbled herself to him, practically begged him. Tanya needed his protection, but on a more intimate level, Ellie resented being so helpless and dependent upon his decision.
And in her sleep, she had actually undressed in front of him, cuddled him as she would Tanya. Mikhail wasn’t a man to cuddle; he was all taker, a man who moved methodically to get his way.
All pride fell beside the question. “I know you’re there, Mikhail. Will you help us?”
“We are here,” he said quietly, warning her against any further discussion about the child. “Tanya came to see where you slept last night. She was worried about you.”
Ellie opened her eyes to see Tanya, in her favorite blue sweatsuit, seated on Mikhail’s shoulders. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and worn jeans, still bearing the night’s stubble on his jaw.
In a business suit, he looked too intense, danger streamlined into quiet, groomed power. But dressed casually, the sweatshirt stretching across his broad shoulders, he was raw male.
Ellie trusted the man in the suit—the predictable, cold, methodical man—not this relaxed one. His hair was rumpled by the child’s hands that circled his forehead. But too quiet, too watchful, Mikhail’s sea-green eyes held Ellie’s as if warning her not to speak of the problem in front of the child. Then that long slow prowl of his gaze down her body, beneath the comforter, tugged at her senses, taking away her breath.
She was still wearing his shirt, but she had just felt as though those big hands had moved over her bare skin. His eyes had glittered just that once, possessively, and the hair on her nape rose. Whatever primitive and intimate thing it was that sizzled in the air between them frightened and warmed her.
A passing glance at a walnut-encased clock told her it was eleven o’clock, and the late morning hour redefined Mikhail’s expression—he had always considered her spoiled. “I was tired, okay?” she snapped at him.
“Evidently. Was the bed all right?” Mikhail’s deep, sensual voice curled around her, reminding her that they had shared the bed…that she had aroused him, that he had seen her undress….
This time it was her turn to blush, her senses prickling as their eyes met and the quiet air sizzled between them.
And then she knew for certain that Mikhail wanted her now; not a sweet, loving need, but a raw passionate one to be filled and forgotten.
Ellie braced herself for another trade-off; she’d made a deal with one man that had failed, and if she had to—
Deep inside a warning voice told her that Mikhail wouldn’t be easy to forget.
She breathed quietly, unsteadily, aware that her body had already reacted to him, her breasts tightening, that poignant clench in her lower stomach.
“Mama?” Tanya’s uneven whisper said she needed reassurance, and Ellie instantly lifted up her arms.
Mikhail lowered Tanya to the bed and watched her slide into Ellie’s waiting hug. As she always did, Ellie gave Tanya her full attention, soothing her fears. The girl cuddled close. “Good morning, pumpkin. Did you like that great big bed?” Ellie asked.
“I wasn’t scared,” Tanya whispered as her little hand smoothed Ellie’s hair. “The man said you were very tired and needed to rest last night. You look all sort of rosy, Mommy. He was afraid if you came out in the rain, back to sleep with me, you would catch cold. And Fadey woke me up this morning. I think he likes me, just li
ke a grandpa would. He showed me these pretty wooden eggs, all painted with people, and when you open one, guess what? There’s another one inside.”
“Of course,” Mikhail said quietly, still watching Ellie, the tension of last night alive between them. Would he help them?
Ellie smoothed Tanya’s blond silky hair and prayed that he would. “Have you made up your mind?” she asked quietly as, fascinated with the showroom, Tanya slid from the bed to wander around the room.
The answer cut through the shadowy air. “No. I have not.”
“When?” Already, she was thinking of how she could manage to drive away from Amoteh. Because if Mikhail decided against helping her, he would probably tell Paul their whereabouts.
“When I have decided.”
That arrogance grated; she had stripped away her pride, coming to him, asking for his help, and now he held her on tenterhooks, just as Paul would do. The men were too much alike, hard, impenetrable and looking for what a bargain could do for them.
And looking up at Mikhail from her vulnerable position in bed did little to soothe the nerves he had always scraped. Ellie clamped her lips against the words she wanted to let fly at him, and Mikhail’s narrowed eyes said he had read her silent message.
He reached to push a button on the wall intercom. “Georgia? Would you come here, please? There is a little girl who wants to meet you. Perhaps she would like to see your kitchen and eat those croissants you’ve just made. And please put together a breakfast tray for two, please—a carafe of coffee? I’ll be having breakfast in here with the girl’s…mother.”
“You could leave and give me a moment of privacy,” Ellie whispered in a furious tone she didn’t bother to disguise.
“No. You’re the one asking, not me. I would advise you to be civilized and to wait until the child is out of hearing distance before you yell.”