by London, Cait
“That nice man was trying to pick her up. He stroked the painting, put his hands on it while he was looking right down her dress. We’re going back to Amen Flats.” Alek glanced down Elspeth’s loose pink sweater, her black slacks and her bare feet. Elspeth curled her toes, aware that Alek’s close inspection raised her senses to a danger level. With him, she felt feminine and cherished; she didn’t like the feeling, nor the sense that Alek wanted to make up for not being close when she needed him. Elspeth realized suddenly how empty her life had been since that night Thunder rattled the windows, storm clouds rolling across the sky outside, and she felt as fragile as the bouquet of roses Alek had ordered for the apartment. He’d also ordered the potted herbs running along the window, their scents giving her peace in an emotional war zone that was Alek. Restless now near him, she rose to cut chives, wash and chop them over their food.
Mark looked at her, then leveled a stare at Alek. “Elspeth, any time this jerk makes moves you don’t like and you want me to do something, I will. I’m pretty good in a gym.”
She had been afraid of this. Alek could shred Mark and walk away untouched. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I have brothers, remember? Alek is just going through a phase, and I can handle him.”
“A phase…and I am not your brother, sweetheart. We’re going home,” he repeated softly, watching her.
Mark’s expression said that he had an investment to protect, if not Elspeth. “Going home? She’s got two more showings in as many days.”
“Alek, I am honoring my agreement.”
“But you’d rather be home and you know it.” Alek eyed her, a muscle contracting along his jaw. “You were playing with something you have no idea how to control.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Who was he to tell her what she wanted and if she was flirting? “Don’t I?”
She’d scored a hit; Alek scowled at her. “We’re going home. Elspeth needs her family, and they need her. She likes to bake.” Alek frowned and continued typing.
Elspeth stared at him. There was no limit to his arrogance. How could he possibly know what she needed?
“That’s me, just the little homebody. I love to putter. Take me out of Amen Flats and I’m just lost without my puttering.” Again Elspeth enjoyed the quick flash of anger in Alek’s expression.
He reached for his cup of cold coffee, downed it and turned back to his computer. He’d ignore everything when engrossed with an article, and when he was hungry, he ate whatever popped into his hand from cold food to candy bars.
Elspeth finished her meal. Alek continued punching keys and ignoring the food that Mark was devouring. Alek fascinated her, from his high-hell moods to his tenderness with children and the elderly. Elspeth found herself picking up a sliced carrot with her chopsticks; she lifted the morsel to his mouth.
Alek stopped typing, clicked off the machine and slowly turned to her. His lips opened, and Elspeth placed the sliced carrot within his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, and Elspeth slowly placed a chicken morsel to his lips. He fascinated her, restless and concentrating on his writing one moment and then easily managed by the offer of a food tidbit.
Big, tough, impatient Alek Petrovna sat quietly while she fed him, his eyes gleaming beneath heavy
_ sets of curled lashes. “I could get used to this,” he murmured unevenly.
“Don’t. It’s either see that you eat vegetables or deal with Talia.”
“Okay. I’ll get you off the hook.” In a move that she had seen her brothers employ, he stretched his arms up and then laid one across the back of the couch. His hand settled on her shoulder; Alek’s thumb
‘lazily caressed her throat. Though she knew his intent, she tried to ignore the immediate response in her.
Finished with his food, Mark cleared away his dishes. “Just take good care of her, Alek. She doesn’t look any better than you do. The next time you decide to stake out a woman, count me out. I’m glad you got this one here, though. She’s fabulous. Elspeth? Call me if you need me—for anything. You’ve got my beeper number.” After a level, ominous look at Alek, Mark exited the apartment in a crash of thunder.
Alek leaned back against the couch, his gaze locked with Elspeth’s as she fed him another morsel. His fingers caressed her thigh, then slid to draw her legs over his thighs. His wary expression reminded her that he’d seen everything, had no delusions about mankind and yet wanted to believe in fairy tales.
“What are you doing?” he asked huskily when she placed the plate aside.
“In the time we’ve spent together, I haven’t seen you eat an entire meal. You eat on the run, Alek, anything and everything, hot…cold, and too much coffee. By the time you get to them, your sandwiches are dried.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. If it’s important to you, I’ll work on regular, balanced, sit-down meals. What else?”
“I doubt you have any idea of what a balanced meal is.” Elspeth carefully picked through her thoughts about Alek. First of all, Alek could take whatever she handed him; she doubted she could make a dent in his ego. “You wear socks with holes. You’re messy. You shout. You’re volatile, Alek. Emotionally expressive. You snarl and threaten and intimidate.” Then she flung the worst of the lot at him. “And…you gesture too much. You’re much too…dramatic one minute and laughing the next. To top it off, you’ve been too darn easy lately.”
“Gee, I guess it’s my Petrovna blood,” Alek returned, unbothered. “You can shout back. You can handle it. You can even laugh if you want.” Alek tapped her nose with his fingertip, then lifted her to his lap.
“Idiot.” She braced herself away from him. He handled her as though he had the right to touch her. “Alek, I am not Talia to tease, or little Megan to be cuddled.”
“Shut up, Elspeth-mine. I like cuddling you. You could cuddle me. We could grin together,” he teased with eyebrows lifting suggestively.
She looked down at Alek, studied the harsh jutting cheekbones and deep-set, almost slumberous eyes beneath curling lashes that no man had a right to own. Rain patterns on the window shadowed his face, and she knew there was nothing sleepy or laughing about Alek Petrovna. Against her, his body was hot and tense, humming with needs she didn’t understand but wanted to match. The storm outside suited her emotions; she wanted to rip away Alek’s clothes and—
Elspeth wearily closed her eyes. Alek had moved into her life and turned it thoroughly upside down.
“Don’t think about it, love. Just rest.” Alek tugged her head down to his shoulder and stroked her hair. She could have, should have, moved away, but instead settled her cheek onto the novel cushioning of warm muscles and the slow, safe beat of his heart. Elspeth rested there lightly, curved to Alek. Years ago, she’d been held like this, cuddled to her father…she couldn’t remember being so safe….
Elspeth awoke to Alek’s scent clinging to the pillow beneath her cheek. Her clothes twisted around her. She’d slept heavily.
In a heartbeat, Elspeth leapt to her feet and stalked toward the sound of water running in her bathroom.
She ripped open the bathroom door; the sight of Alek shaving in the nude stopped her. The profile of his body was beautiful, rippling cords and hollowed at his haunches, his legs spread, feet bare upon the tile. She avoided a full frontal view and skipped to his legs, bulky at the thigh—the scars angry.
Alek turned to her and lifted his scarred eyebrow.
She advanced, careless that he towered over her, dressed in nothing but the white foam on his jaw. She wanted to drag him back to bed…or just have him where he stood. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked rawly. She realized that she had thrown up her hands and forced them down, making fists at her thighs.
Her eyes flicked to the foam clinging to the hair on his chest…then jerked to Alek’s flat nipple. She forced herself not to trace the line of hair going downward—she grabbed a towel and held it up to him. Alek lifted that eyebrow again, then slowly looked down to the intimate bulge in the hanging material.r />
The atmosphere in the small room shifted and stood still. In the mirror, Alek watched her, his face expressionless. “You slept with me. All night.” She didn’t believe it was true, not yet.
“Uh-huh. That I did.” Alek rinsed his razor and continued shaving as though they spent every night together. Because he had moved, she was forced to shift the towel.
She stiffened at the sight of the delicate pink razor in his hand and took it away from him.
Alek patted his face dry, slashed away the towel and turned to her, hands on hips. There he stood, towering over her, hair damp and spiraling from his shower. Droplets of water shimmered on the hair on his chest and on his shoulders—a deep jagged scar running across his left one. She wanted to place her lips on it and—Elspeth refused to allow the hunger in her; she refused to look down.
“You’re not a comfortable woman to sleep with, but I needed to hold you. A simple, old-fashioned, basic need of a man who needs to sleep one entire night with one special woman. I should have spent that night with you, Elspeth. I should have held you close to me and tucked your fanny neatly against a part of me that is in a constant and hard state, thank you very much.”
“You could take care of that…need easily enough. You’ve had enough offers since I’ve known you.” Elspeth straightened, horrified that she had sounded like a jealous lover. She threw out her hand. “You could have slept all night with—”
“You’re gesturing wildly, Elspeth. My, my. So I’m not the only one.” He took one step toward her, then j another, and slammed the door shut behind her, backing her up against it. Alek glowered down at her. “Yes, damn it. I could have had women. But I slept with you. I wallowed in the event. Hell, I probably glowed. I dived into your scents, the texture of your hair, like a love-starved teenage boy, too hot and too hard. You sprawl, Elspeth-mine. You sprawled, took up the bed and nearly made me embarrass myself. You are a restless sleeper, and your hands are very busy. I am not wool to be woven or to be plucked or caressed.”
His body heat burned her, ensnared her. ‘Tm not discussing my sleep habits—”
“Oh, you’re not?” he repeated too softly. His face lowered to hers, his eyes savage and blazing. “Get out.”
His hardened body lurched intimately against her, and Elspeth flattened to the door, fighting her need to touch him, to soothe…or just pit herself against him and show him that he couldn’t walk into her life and shatter it.
“Yes, you little disaster. I’d like to carry you back to bed and keep you there until we’ve erased that first time. Until you’re sweaty and limp and cuddly. Oh, yes, Elspeth-mine. Don’t look so shocked. I’d like to lick the sweat from your breasts, watch it gleam on them and pearl on your body. I’d like to slide against you, frontal, side and backside. I’d like to suck and bite and kiss you until you—”
He hesitated, studied her, only to begin again. “Good. You’re shocked. I need to be locked to you, in you. With you, Elspeth, until barriers of flesh burn away,” he repeated. “But you’re going to have to make your own decision. You’re going to actually have to take the first step because, if I did…if I did…”
Alek closed his eyes and groaned; he pivoted away from her to latch both big hands on the countertop. The counter cracked, and he cursed. “Out.”
Alek realized he’d been staring at the computer monitor while his mind drifted to his neighbor. Elspeth had closed herself away from him and moved through the next showings with cool detachment. His brand-new “necking” car stood in his driveway, unused. A ladybug crawled across the window screen and he followed its progress until his rosebud came into focus. The bud was nothing to compare to the fiesta of color next door, or scented geraniums brushed by the June wind, but it was respectable and it matched his Chevy, waxed and chrome shining in his driveway.
A man had to have more to caress than the big steering wheel of a car he’d always wanted, Alek decided with a sigh.
The Sentinel of Amen Flats required little tending, taking shape in Brad Klein’s hands. Alek leaned back in his chair. The article could wait. The newspaper boys were hitting their marks without destroying more than three windows and a newly potted vase. Alek’s gaze drifted back to the rosebud.
The bud was madder red, the fiery shade that reminded him of Elspeth. Heat lay in Elspeth’s work; he’d seen it in “Untitled.” He saw it in the new work she’d begun. The vibrant colors softened, swirled, enclosed and burst, her style changing.
School had ended in the last week of May. Amen Flats settled into its Saturday-afternoon routine of lawn mowers buzzing, children yelling and riding bikes and people visiting on sidewalks. Riders hitched their horses to anything that didn’t move, and the scent of home cooking lay on the town like perfume. The aroma of baking didn’t come from Elspeth’s kitchen; she was weaving as if it could carry her away from Alek.
“Too bad, kid. Like it or not, I’m here to stay/‘Alek traced the Rocky Mountains, rugged peaks attacking the sky. He sucked in the fresh, pine-scented air and the fragrance of herbs growing in Elspeth’s garden.
He’d take what he could get from her.
His mind wasn’t on the cat-chasing-dog news in Amen Flats, but Elspeth. He rubbed his temples, fighting a headache. She was probably creating one of those sensual masterpieces that dried his mouth just looking at them. He’d played a stupid game with the contract. Now he knew that he’d sink to any depth to be with her, and the thought nicked his pride. Mark’s raging sit-down discussion about how to treat women didn’t help.
Elspeth’s van whizzed into her driveway; a second later, her back door slammed.
Duncan’s pickup skidded into Alek’s driveway. Duncan pushed out of the cab like a bull out of a rodeo stall. Alek could use a good brawl, and the dark expression on Duncan’s face said he’d like to oblige.
“Well. My, my. Things are looking up.” Alek moved through the storage crates in his living room, the remodeling of his kitchen, and opened the old back door with enough force to tear one hinge away, then stepped into his back yard. Duncan was big enough and hard enough to take Alek’s frustration. Mark had offered to bash Alek for trapping Elspeth in the contract. Mark with his fancy silver shorts and boxing gloves wasn’t Duncan, used to good old-fashioned tavern brawls.
Alek eyed Birk, who had just pulled his pickup to a stop on the street. Two of the Tallchiefs had come to visit; all he needed was a third brother.
When Duncan found Alek, he ripped away his leather gloves. Something that looked suspiciously like dried oatmeal clotted on Duncan’s black hair. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the rancher, Alek noted with satisfaction. He’d hate to take advantage of an out-of-shape, outraged brother. Alek also noted that Duncan’s mood didn’t leave much room for gentleness, and he appreciated that, too.
“This won’t take long,” Duncan stated. “I don’t like you shoving Elspeth into corners. Something is wrong, Petrovna, and it started when you came to Amen Flats.”
Alek leaned against the small shed. Things were looking up. He glanced at Calum, who had just strolled into the backyard. He nodded at his brother-in-law and met a scowl. Alek was up for taking all three brothers at once. “Elspeth wouldn’t tell you, would she?”
Duncan glared at him. “You’re not sleeping with her.”
“I’m not?” Alek drawled the insinuation. One damn night. I should have been holding her in my arms every night for years and doing more than sleeping…with maybe a sleepy child or two between us at times.
Now wasn’t the time to think of children with Elspeth; he went woozy and mellow and disgusted with himself. When Alek bared his teeth in a leer, Duncan’s fist shot out, clipping Alek’s jaw. He rubbed it. ‘That was a good one, Duncan. Don’t count on a second.”
Things had been too sweet, too boring, Alek decided instantly and grinned. Amen Flats wasn’t boring at all, not with the Tallchiefs on the prowl.
“She’s special. You’ll get more if you don’t leave her alone.”
�
�She is special and she can make her own choices.” His punch connected solidly with Duncan’s jaw. Alek rubbed his fist as Duncan staggered back a few steps. “Don’t just stand there, Birk and Calum. Do your damnedest,” he invited, and licked the blood from his lip.
Calum leaned back against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a vested interest in seeing that neither one of you get hurt too badly. You might know, Alek, that this is all about Elspeth dumping Megan’s oatmeal over Duncan’s head. He wanted to know your intentions.”
Birk swept out a gracious hand. “Eldest first, Duncan the defender. Save some for me.”
Duncan glared at Birk. “I changed Elspeth’s diapers more than you. And by the way, if you don’t start making moves soon, you’ll be too old to make a cousin for Megan.”
“Worry about yourself, old man. I’m working on it.”
Duncan rubbed his jaw. “That was a good one, Petrovna. You’re solid, but let’s see just how tough you are—” Then Duncan’s weight sent Alek to the ground, and matched for size, the two men rolled, battering away at each other.
Ah, the glory of it, Alek thought, a friendly romp in the sun—just the thing to ease his taut nerves. Duncan’s fist slammed into his side and knocked the wind from him. Alek paid him back, and the two rolled across the newly plowed patch of earth where he’d planned his garden. Amid the grunts and the savage sounds of bone meeting flesh, Alek gasped under a wall of icy water.
Duncan grunted and flopped to one side, and the two big men lay there, side by side in a cold pool of muddy water. Birk and Calum roared with laughter, and Elspeth walked with dignity to the water faucet and turned off the hose. Alek enjoyed a good view of her swaying hips before Duncan hauled him to his feet. She walked back to Duncan and Alek, who had looped their arms around each other companionably and awaited their comeuppance. They looked at each other and tried friendly, innocent grins. Things were definitely looking up, Alek decided.