Instinctive Male

by Cait London

  “Leave us alone,” Ellie said quietly, fiercely.

  Lars leered down at her, and her anger vibrated, almost throwing her against him. “Well, now. Stepanov’s woman has a temper, don’t she? I’ll bet you’re a real she-cat—”

  “That’s enough.”

  Lars glanced around once more as if considering his options, and then shrugged. “We ain’t done, lady,” he said before walking away.

  Ellie shook as she knelt to gather Tanya into her arms, and to throw away the lollipop. “Don’t you ever, ever go with that man again, or take anything he gives you.”

  When Tanya blinked and tears came to her eyes, Ellie regretted showing her fear. She hugged Tanya close, and looked up to see Lars watching them over his shoulder. “I’ll get you candy, Tanya, but never take any from someone you don’t know.”

  “He said he knew you.”

  “Well, he does, but he isn’t a man I like,” Ellie stated fiercely.

  Rita, the waitress at the Seagull’s Perch, stopped and studied Ellie. “Everything all right? I saw Lars talking with your little girl. You look just like your sister, Ellie—she was talking to Lars at the Seagull. I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. He’s had a longtime grudge against the Stepanovs, and it’s no secret that—”

  Rita glanced warily at Tanya, who was watching with wide eyes. “Mikhail isn’t just playing games, Ellie.”

  “Mikhail plays games,” Tanya stated adamantly. “He plays with me.”

  Ellie held Tanya on her hip, still caught in the fear of seeing Lars holding her. Hillary was capable of anything to get her way, and she’d been talking to Lars…. “Did you hear what they said, my sister and Lars?”

  “Only that she’d make it worth his while. Did I say something wrong? You just went white.”

  Ellie was already moving up the wooden steps to the Amoteh, hurrying Tanya along. Then Mikhail stood in front of her, and Tanya ran ahead to him. “Mikhail! I got a new teddy bear at the toy store.”

  He lifted her into his arms and kissed her cheek, but his eyes held Ellie’s. “What’s wrong with Mommy, Tanya?”

  Tanya looped an arm around his neck and looked solemnly at Ellie. “She’s mad at me for talking to the man. I just wanted the sucker. She threw it away.”

  “Lars,” Ellie said quietly. “I probably overreacted. He’s talked to my sister.”

  “I know. Henry, the bartender, called me.” Mikhail kissed Tanya again, but his eyes never left Ellie. They agreed silently that Hillary would use the resources at hand, and Lars had added a potential new dangerous dimension. “Let’s go inside and you can tell me what you saw in the store, okay? You know what?” Mikhail asked Tanya. “I have a sucker in my office shaped like a strawberry just for you. Then I have a meeting to attend, and Grandma Mary Jo wants you to come to dinner.”

  An hour and a half later, Mikhail came to dinner at the Stepanovs’. He wore a taut, brooding look. His knuckles on his right hand were bruised, proving to Ellie he had met Lars. When she looked at his hand, Mikhail shrugged and spoke quietly. “It’s what he understands. I think it would be wise for Tanya to visit Mother’s family in Texas. She was planning a trip anyway. Paul is coming in a few days. He won’t be sweet.”

  Over dinner, the month-long trip to Mary Jo’s family in Texas was quickly arranged, while Fadey would stay and meet the rising orders for Stepanov furniture. Since Tanya already had her favorite doll and her day-bag of clothing with her, whatever else she needed would be purchased.

  The Stepanovs carefully avoided commenting about the scratch on Ellie’s cheek, though Fadey had caught her chin and turned the injury to his inspection. He kissed the small wound. “There. Get better, little one. You let my Mikhail care for you, eh? He’s a good boy, you know.”

  She’d managed a wobbly smile, because Mikhail had looked so fierce and angry with her.

  Delighted with the tiny teacups and saucers that Mikhail had purchased from the sisters, Tanya bubbled with excitement. She carefully served water from the tiny teapot into the cups.

  “Delicious,” Fadey exclaimed as he watched Mikhail stare at Ellie, and her blush rise.

  Her hand shook as she lifted the tiny tea cup to her lips and avoided Mikhail’s dark, searing look. Don’t touch me, she’d said and hurt him, a man who needed to comfort and to hold her.

  A graceful woman, sensing tension and skilled at soothing her family, Mary Jo smiled at Ellie, who was now holding a sleepy Tanya. “Well, Tanya, darlin’, if we’re going to get up early to see all those cows and horses, then we’d better get going—Come on, Mama. You both should stay the night here if we’re getting an early start. Tuck your little girl in. Goodness, you don’t look like more than a girl yourself.”

  Ellie cradled Tanya as she slid into sleep, and then lay quietly, listening to Mikhail and his parents talk in the living room.

  In her world, tender emotions weren’t exposed. Worn by her scene with Hillary and fear for Tanya, Ellie regretted not taking what Mikhail offered, the comfort of his arms. How badly she’d wanted to step into his arms…but the past had tangled around her. Giving herself into someone else’s care seemed like a bridge she couldn’t cross easily. Too exhausted, she slid into sleep, holding Tanya close….

  She awoke to see Mikhail outlined in the doorway, and then the door closed, just as he had shut her away from him.

  Ellie gathered Tanya closer, nuzzled the girl’s fragrant hair, and ached for Mikhail’s arms around her.

  Mikhail tossed the telephone records onto Ellie’s desk. “Paul and Hillary have been calling, and you didn’t see fit to tell me.”

  Her office was small and cluttered and feminine, splashed with color and daffodils, and he felt like a barbarian striking out at her. In the two days since Tanya and his mother had gone, Ellie had withdrawn from him, her eyes shadowed as she worked long hours trying to prove herself. The telephone records said she had made several calls to her family, and their calls had been erratic. Whatever was going on between them, she’d cut him out….

  He had given his heart to her, and she didn’t trust him.

  “You’ve been busy,” Ellie said evenly.

  “Yes, of course. I always am at this time of year.”

  “I mean that you’re taking time to check on me. It’s private, Mikhail. More threats, more anger. Typical Lathrop stuff. I’ll deal with it. And don’t you ever fight with Lars again. There are other ways of handling him.”

  Mikhail thought of the scene in the Seagull’s Perch—Lars had swung first, and Mikhail had finished the bulkier man easily. Lars wouldn’t admit to anything, nor was he a man to take a warning; he made no pretenses—he hated the Stepanovs.

  “The situation with Lars is old and bitter and not of your making…. You said, ‘I’ll deal with it,’ not ‘We’ll deal with it.”’

  “I just don’t want you or your family hurt. Hillary is one thing, but you know Paul. He’s playing the waiting game. He’s offered me a job.”

  She was leaving. His body tensed as though taking a blow. “And?”

  “If I leave you now, there’s no one to cover my plans, to follow them through.”

  How could she leave him? Mikhail fought anger and pain. “Don’t let that stop you. We’ll handle it.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “Yes. But that doesn’t change this—” He reached to tug her up into his arms, and in his frustration took her lips in heat and hunger. She gasped once, tensed to resist, and then her hands were in his hair, holding him as he wanted.

  Aware of her body softening into his, Mikhail broke the kiss and studied Ellie’s drowsy eyes, her swollen lips. He ran his hands down her body and then back up, releasing her quickly. “So it was always there for us. Just this, if no more. Have a nice day.”

  Ellie’s expression darkened. “You, too, Mikie. And by the way, Lars isn’t your problem. He’s mine. I’ll talk to him about Hillary.”

  Ellie had no conception of how brutal Lars could be—he’d abused his wi
fe and son. “No, you won’t. Leave Lars to me.”

  Her head tilted and the strands of honey blond swirled along her cheek. “I’ve been managing without you for quite a while.”

  “We both know that you need me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Because you need me?”

  Ellie did need him, at least on one level, but did she want him on a deeper one?

  “I don’t suppose you need me.”

  He needed her physically and in ways that were new to him, but he wouldn’t admit it, not now. His body aching, he smiled tightly at the taunt and walked from her office.

  He paused when something soft and fragrant hit his back. He picked up a daffodil from the scattered bouquet on the carpet, broke off the stem and stuck the flower in his lapel. “Thank you so much.”

  Five long hours later, in front of Jarek’s oceanside cabin, Mikhail sat looking out into the night, the moonlight trailing over the water to him. His emotions swirled around him like a storm. The need for Ellie was more than a physical one, it was one of the heart, and he was pushing, wanting her….

  A sound told him he wasn’t alone and then he caught Ellie’s fresh scent. “Mikhail?”

  He didn’t want her to see him now, to know how deeply he hurt. She didn’t trust him. “Don’t touch me. If you do, I won’t be responsible.”

  She eased onto the worn beach towel beside him. “You’re always responsible. You’ve done so much for everyone.”

  Don’t touch me. That was what Ellie had said after arguing with Hillary. He knew now how Ellie felt, as if one touch would shatter her control.

  The moonlight settled, silvery upon her hair, the slight breeze lifting, toying with the silky strands. She was wearing his brown leather jacket with her jeans and that pleased him. “I’m wearing this because I miss you, Mikhail. It feels like you and you’ve been so distant. I know I hurt you…. I didn’t mean to, but… Is there someone else?”

  As if he could hold anyone else, share his body and his life with another woman. He looked down at her. “You could ask that?”

  In the moonlight, her blush rose to fascinate him.

  Ellie looked out at the ocean and her hand trembled as she smoothed her hair, a very good sign—but then, when a man is desperate for a sign that he affects a woman…

  “You are a potent, attractive man, Mikhail. Very potent. It’s difficult to think around you, especially when you turn on the charm.”

  Well, he thought, that compliment did help. “So I have charm.”

  “Just a bit. It’s rough and edgy and stormy, but charm, just the same. Don’t let that fact go to your head.”

  “And I make you nervous. Why?”

  “Because you can be very difficult when you want, and you know good and well that I’ve come to apologize. You’re making me grovel, Mikie, and I really wouldn’t advise that. You came bristling into my office today, attacked me, and kissed me to prove your point—okay, I’m susceptible to you—and then you walked off. You’re cocky and arrogant, and I don’t know why I want you, but I do.”

  “Ah, just that touch of anger. So I’ve gotten to you, have I?”

  Her eyes were silver in the night, burning him. “You know you do. You always have since I met you years ago.”

  Proof that she cared would help, Mikhail thought as he lay back, his hands behind his head, waiting…. “Convince me.”

  “Ohhh!” Ellie threw herself over him, holding his wrists with her hands. “You’re so irritating. You know just how to set me off.”

  He moved slightly, enjoying the feel of her curves over him and allowed his pleased smirk to wrap around one word: “Sometimes.”

  She stared down at him and blinked.

  “I love it when you think, darling,” he said, enjoying her expressions.

  “I am thinking that sometimes I set you off, Mikie,” she challenged.

  This time, Mikhail didn’t hide his grin. With Ellie, he felt young and impetuous and certain. “Of course.”

  Ellie’s smile stopped his thoughts, and he waited, enjoying the moment and wondering what she would do next. “You can have me, if you want,” he offered softly.

  She tapped his lips lightly with her fingertip. “But then, you would have me, wouldn’t you? That’s generally how it works.”

  “With us—yes.”

  Sadness lurked in Ellie’s expression as her hand smoothed his cheek, her eyes searching his face, and he wondered if she understood how another woman hadn’t wanted him, how much that had hurt….

  He needed this, Mikhail thought as Ellie dived in to prove her point, kissing him hungrily, her mouth open and hot upon his. There would be tender moments, but now he needed the fire between them to burn away any doubt of how he felt.

  Mikhail eased Ellie away and stood, hurrying to scoop her up into his arms. “I’ve been staying here,” he whispered as he carried her up the steps. “I could not sleep so close to you and not want you.”

  Without her, anywhere, he ached to touch her, to hold her, to see her. He’d never been lonely before, always pushing himself, immersed in work, but Ellie had changed his life, enriched the fabric, his senses. The nights were endless, haunting him with her scent, the sounds of her passion, the sheets raw against his skin when he would have her body touching his. Was it the same for her? Did she ache for him as much?

  Did he give her what she needed most?

  “Mikhail, hurry….” She snuggled against him, her arms tight around his shoulders as he carried her into Jarek’s simple cabin.

  Mikhail placed her on her feet. He reached for a small box on the table and opened it. “For you.”

  He lifted his hand to smooth her hair from her cheek. “I want you to wear these and think of me. That you are not alone anymore, that you have me.”

  Inside the box gleamed elegant feminine earrings, a lacy length of gold with beads of rose quartz and drops of moonstone. In Mikhail’s big, dark hands, they seemed alive, so fragile, as intricate as the woman he loved. “My grandmother’s,” he said quietly. “It would please me if you accepted them.”

  Ellie stroked them with her finger. “They’re lovely, but I couldn’t. They belong to your family.”

  “No other woman has worn them, and it’s time. This is how I see you, soft and feminine, yet with strength and love.” Mikhail took her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing his lips into her palm. “Take them. Take me.”

  Would she have him? Would she trust him? Would she…?

  Mikhail caught his breath as Ellie’s soft cry echoed in the spartan room, her arms circling his neck. The impact of her body thrown against him sent him backward and tumbling into the big solid Stepanov bed.

  Heads resting on the same pillow, they stared at each other and Ellie ran her fingers through his hair, studying him. “You oversimplify, Stepanov.”

  “You complicate.”

  Ellie’s hand smoothed his face, his hair. “Let me up.”

  He inhaled roughly. She chose to leave him, to retreat. Ellie eased from the bed to walk around the simply furnished room, touching the good sturdy furniture, noting the tiny kitchenette, the basic bathroom. “Was she here?”

  “My ex-wife? No.” Mikhail thought of the luxurious home JoAnna had demanded. Stark and furnished with cold furniture and marble, it now belonged to someone else.

  “Was she in your suite, your apartment at the Amoteh?”

  “Yes. But not as my wife. We were divorced by that time.” JoAnna’s big plans hadn’t materialized as she’d wished and she’d come back for more money. She’d failed to seduce him and had ripped into him, accusing him of ruining their marriage.

  “I went into your apartment, missing you. I can feel her there, Mikhail. You loved her. You were still aching years ago when I came to the Amoteh’s opening. You’d been divorced a year then and still brooding. I was so angry with you for letting her hurt you. Even then, I wanted to tear her away from you. And I was angry at you for showing no emotions whatsoever. Now I know how much you
ached.”

  He sensed that Ellie was picking her moment, making her decision, and he could only wait and hope. Then, in the next moment, his emotions carried him to his feet and he paced the length of the cabin, sorting out the past for Ellie as he had for no one else. “I thought I loved her. I changed, not her. JoAnna needed more than I could give her. I…didn’t satisfy her.”

  That was the first time he’d made such an admission aloud, but it was important that Ellie know.

  She opened her hand, and the earrings tumbled onto the small table. Would she refuse him, what they could have?

  The tiny jingle of gold caused his heart to chill. Was Ellie discarding what ran sometimes hot and feverish and other times gentle between them?

  Mikhail forced himself to go on, to finish what he had begun, to give Ellie the truth that had gnawed at him for years. He stared out of the window, the continuous flow of waves as they had been through the years. “We had grand plans—a resort chain of our own. I wanted it as badly as she—money, prestige, world travel…. Then I changed, I saw what I could do here, to help Amoteh, and then I knew JoAnna wouldn’t be happy here, I took the job Paul offered—a trade-off to manage a top resort, set in Amoteh. JoAnna was furious, and I thought a house would settle her—and a baby. She took the house, which was more than we could afford, but rejected my child. Then I learned that she only became pregnant to use my child as leverage to get what she wanted. I changed,” he repeated. “I wanted more.”

  “For those you love,” Ellie said softly.

  “I should have been—We grew apart, and when I looked back, I saw that the intimacy wasn’t there, the friendship and the respect and the sharing. We were separate people.”

  Mikhail smiled briefly, contrasting his description of his relationship with JoAnna with how complete he felt with Ellie. “We were ‘unlinked.’ I come here sometimes to get away from what could have been, what I could have done, the mistakes I made, the reasons our marriage failed.”

  “I like this place better,” Ellie said firmly as she removed his leather jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “And I like wearing your clothes. Do you mind?”