Claimed by Her Billionaire Protector

by Donald Robyn

  He hadn’t been able to prise Elana from his mind while he’d been away, and he’d been looking forward to seeing her again. Dammit, he was in danger of making an idiot of himself over her.

  It’s called rejection, he thought sardonically, and it’s not the first time it’s happened to you.

  As a callow youth he’d had his heart dented a couple of times, but he’d learned to deal with it. His ego was suffering—no, it was far more than just his ego—but whatever had caused Elana to draw back was her business, not his.

  Although he needed to make sure of one thing.

  As he drove through the stone entrance to Mana, he asked, ‘Are you quite sure you’re not pregnant?’

  He sensed her stiffening beside him. After a moment she said frigidly, ‘One hundred per cent positive.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, and left it at that.

  Silence stretched tautly between them until they’d reached the small building she called home. Without looking at him, one hand on the door handle, she said steadily, ‘Thank you for the loan of your car, but I don’t need it now. It’s a very pleasant walk to Mana as well as being good exercise for me.’

  Niko controlled his swift response, a mixture of frustration and anger. ‘If it’s raining someone will collect you and bring you home.’

  Eyes darkening, she frowned at him, then opened the door and climbed out. ‘That won’t be necessary. I do have rain gear that I can use.’

  It took all of Niko’s self-control not to grit his teeth. However, one glance at her standing beside the vehicle, shoulders square, her lush mouth tight and her gaze level and inflexible, convinced him that getting out of the car to tell her she was being foolishly stubborn was not going to make any difference to her decision.

  She said, ‘Thank you for the offer, though. And the ride home.’

  He replied laconically, ‘My pleasure,’ and put the car in motion, leaving with a wave of his hand through the open window.

  * * *

  Torn anew by conflicting emotions, Elana fought back a regret that threatened to drown her, and turned to go into the house. It should have welcomed her like the refuge it had always been, but it felt alien, lonely, bereft of memories...

  No, not bereft. One memory was engraved on her brain, into her skin, in every cell of her body. Whenever she walked inside she’d remember Niko’s passionate lovemaking—the voluptuous excitement he’d roused, the heady need that she’d surrendered to without any fear. And the tenderness with which he’d held her afterwards, the sleepy stroke of his hands across her sensitised skin, the safety she’d felt lying against him.

  An agony of grief mingled with an abject fear. ‘No,’ she whispered.

  Surely she hadn’t been so foolish? This couldn’t be love...

  She dragged in a shaking breath. ‘No,’ she said firmly. She was not so stupid. So he was a fantastic lover. How many women had he bedded to be so proficient?

  Hundreds, probably. ‘Well, scores, anyway,’ she told herself harshly.

  But he’d understood her rejection, and he hadn’t been disappointed by it, even though it might have been a bit of a shock.

  The sound of her telephone was a welcome interruption to her tumbling thoughts.

  ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Nixon,’ she said, welcoming that familiar, friendly voice.

  ‘Hello, dear, I haven’t seen you for ages, apart from a word or two in the shop. Why don’t we have lunch together at the café on the river and catch up on things? I’ll pick you up and bring you home. How about Saturday and we can go to the market before we have lunch?’

  Arrangements completed, Elana hung up, grateful to have something normal and everyday to look forward to. Count Niko Radcliffe had been taking up too much room in her mind. And lunch with Mrs Nixon was always fun. At least she’d catch up with all the local gossip and some international stuff too.

  Until then, she’d avoid Niko as much as she could. And she wouldn’t think of him.

  Easier said than done, unfortunately. Although he spent much of the time she was at Mana out on the land with the farm manager, she couldn’t avoid eating lunch with him, and often morning and afternoon tea. Always a stimulating companion, he treated her with a courtesy she found incredibly painful. Unfortunately, each occasion only reinforced her reckless longing for more than he could give her.

  Elana despised herself for it. It was not only embarrassing, it was humiliating. She’d thought she’d been heartbroken when Roland had shown his true colours, but relief had overridden that. Now, however, every night when she fell into bed memories of bliss came crowding back, taking over her dreams. More than once she found herself waking, tears on her cheeks as she gulped back sobs.

  ‘Stick it out,’ she told herself grimly. ‘It’s only infatuation. Niko’s certainly not pining for you.’

  But she ached for him...an ever-present hunger that showed no sign of easing, an acute, savage need that refused to go away. The more time she shared with him, the more potent that longing became.

  So lunch with Mrs Nixon was a welcome relief. The café overlooked the Falls, a wall of ancient solidified lava at the head of the estuary over which the river fell into a basin lined with mangrove trees. The sun gilded the moored yachts and launches bobbing gently in the current, and a salt tang mingled with the fresh scent of the native vegetation lining the low banks. Above the falls the river had scooped a pool, and from it came the happy shrieks of children swimming.

  Without looking at the menu Mrs Nixon announced, ‘I’m going to be completely sinful and have their superb fish and chips.’

  The café’s fish and chips came with salad and home-made mayonnaise, and were, as its publicity announced, world famous in Waipuna.

  After they’d both ordered she leaned towards Elana and said, ‘And while we’re waiting, you can tell me what you think of the Count now you know him.’

  Elana hesitated, then made up her mind. ‘Decisive, very astute, very self-contained, and with a proper appreciation of both Mana and the treasure trove of documents we’ve found there.’

  And a superb lover...

  Her companion nodded. ‘Good. What do you think of his ideas for a kiwi conservation group on the peninsula?’

  ‘I think it’s excellent.’ Elana told her of the impression the discovery of the last colony of takehe birds had made on Niko, and listened to the older woman’s praise for his interest in the rapidly reducing kiwi population on the peninsula.

  While they were waiting for the meal to arrive, Mrs Nixon said confidentially, ‘You’ve given me your public views of Niko Radcliffe’s character; now, for my ears only, what do you think of him?’

  Elana laughed. ‘Basically the same.’ And counter-attacked. ‘Anyway, you probably know more about him than I do. From information gathered from the gossip magazines in the dentist’s surgery,’ she elaborated.

  Mrs Nixon’s startled expression gave way to amusement. ‘Oh, I don’t believe much more than half of that. Even the paparazzi don’t seem to be able to keep tabs on him, but there are hints that he’s been seeing some aristocrat in England.’

  Pain seared through Elana. Probably the woman he’d sent flowers to.

  ‘Apart from that,’ Mrs Nixon went on, ‘he’s donated a lot of money to a conservation project in the Amazon somewhere.’

  Elana wished he didn’t have any good points. However, just because he spent largely on conservation projects didn’t mean that she could ignore that hissed warning over the telephone.

  Although the past few weeks had shown her a different side of Niko, she couldn’t let herself believe anything about him that might persuade her to lower her defences. If she allowed herself to do that, she suspected it would be impossible to control her leashed emotions.

  And apart from living next door to each other, and a certain sexual attraction, what had she and Niko in common?

  Nothing.

  ‘That’s a strange look on your face,’ Mrs Nixon observed, startling her.

 
; Hastily composing her expression, she conjured up a smile. ‘Is it? What sort of look?’

  ‘Wistful, I think. Yes, wistful. And a little bit sad, too?’

  ‘Mum used to love coming here.’ Feeling like a coward for making use of her mother’s memory, Elana went on briskly, ‘And she’d be shocked to think just coming here would make me miserable. One thing she did was live every moment of her life to the full.’

  ‘Yes, she did.’ Unexpectedly, her companion patted Elana’s hand. ‘You’ve had a really hard time this past year. Fran and I have been worried about you.’

  Touched, Elana said, ‘You don’t need to worry, you know. I’m managing.’ ‘I know.’ She looked past Elana. ‘Well, talk of the devil—guess who’s coming in the door, and with a very elegant woman too. I wonder if this is the next woman in his life—although she looks a tad too old for him.’

  Elana swallowed, the back of her neck prickling. Her companion smiled above Elana’s head. ‘Hello, Niko.’

  ‘Mrs Nixon, Elana.’

  Summoning a smile, Elana turned to meet Niko’s bland gaze. With him was the woman she’d seen beside him in the street.

  ‘Let me introduce Petra Curtiss,’ Niko said coolly. ‘She is going to oversee the rescue of Mana’s gardens.’

  Mrs Nixon beamed. ‘Oh, how wonderful. They used to be so lovely. Do you want to talk business, or would you like to share our table?’

  Elana stiffened. Did she have to be so kind and hospitable?

  But Niko said coolly, ‘We’ve already talked business. Petra’s on her way back to Auckland, and she’ll probably be interested in any memories you have of the garden.’

  Smiling at Mrs Nixon, the woman beside him said, ‘I’d love to hear whatever you have to tell me about it.’

  Niko nodded. ‘Then we’ll sit here,’ he said smoothly, and held out the chair opposite Elana.

  Which meant he’d be next to her. An exquisite tension gripped her, shredding her thoughts into irrational snippets as her heart skittered into overdrive. She had to force herself to smile when he sat down.

  Relax, darn it! She focused on the conversation between the landscape architect and Mrs Nixon, who was very ready to discuss her memories of the garden.

  Petra took notes, asked questions, apologised for monopolising the conversation, and impressed them all with her knowledge of plants that would flourish in a seaside garden.

  ‘I grew up by the sea,’ she explained. ‘Just north of Auckland, so I have a good idea of what will grow up here and what won’t.’ She smiled across at Niko. ‘I wouldn’t be nearly so useful if you’d wanted me to rescue the garden at your high country station.’

  ‘Fortunately that’s in good shape,’ he said urbanely. ‘My father was a gardener rather than a farmer.’

  An odd flatness in his tone caught Elana’s attention. She glanced up, saw that he was looking at her, and her heart jumped in her chest, her pulse quickening, and her lips suddenly strangely hot and full.

  Battling for control, she looked down at her meal.

  ‘I was talking to young Jordan’s mother the other day,’ Mrs Nixon said, smiling at Niko. ‘She told me you’ve been very helpful to him.’

  ‘He’s a decent kid at heart, and in a way the accident helped him grow up a bit. It certainly convinced him that he isn’t bulletproof,’ Niko said calmly.

  ‘I believe he’s working at Mana on the weekends?’

  ‘He’s saving up for a course on safe driving.’ Niko sounded a little bored now, a tone that made Elana bristle.

  Mrs Nixon smiled. ‘In Auckland, I believe. You told him about that?’

  ‘It seemed a logical thing to do,’ Niko said dryly. ‘I pointed out that if he wanted to drive fast he needed to know how and where to do it without killing himself or anyone else.’ Smoothly changing the subject, he asked, ‘Is that a dolphin I can see out there?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Elana scrambled to her feet, closely followed by Petra Curtiss.

  The dolphin turned out to be two, a mother and a baby. Elana pointed them out, saying, ‘I wonder why they’re on their own.’

  ‘I was wondering that too. They’re usually in groups, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes, the pods are family groups, so the babies are protected.’

  ‘Do you often see them here?’

  ‘Not here, no. Never, in fact. Ah, here come the rest.’

  Entranced, they stood watching, rapidly joined by several other diners at the café, until eventually the pod of dolphins decided to leave.

  Back at the table, Elana sensed a change in the atmosphere. Not one she could put her finger on, but both Mrs Nixon and Niko seemed different somehow, and although they finished their meal in pleasant conversation she still registered a coolness—mostly, she realised, from Niko.

  When the meal finally finished she stifled a sigh of relief. Only to be shocked into near panic when Niko said smoothly, ‘I’ll take you home, Elana.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘It will save Mrs Nixon from going so far out of her way,’ he said.

  Mrs Nixon hesitated, almost as though she was reluctant to agree to this but unable to think of a polite way to stop it, before nodding. ‘Very well. Thank you.’

  Elana said, ‘Thank you, Niko.’ And smiled at Mrs Nixon. ‘Thanks so much, it’s been great fun.’

  Farewells over, Mrs Nixon drove off, immediately followed by Petra Curtiss on her way back to Auckland.

  As she and Niko walked towards his car, Elana said, ‘It was kind of you to give Jordan something else to think about besides hooning around the back roads.’

  Again that swift lift of broad shoulders. ‘It’s a stage in many young men’s lives. He’ll be fine. And the roads will be safer.’

  She chuckled, then added more soberly, ‘I hope so.’

  ‘You should do that more often,’ he said, stopping by the car to open the door for her.

  Startled, she looked up. ‘What?’

  ‘Laugh,’ he said succinctly. ‘It’s a pretty sound.’

  Elana flushed. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, climbing hastily into the front seat.

  He walked around the car and got in, but instead of starting the engine he turned to face her. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you that before?’

  ‘Not that I recall,’ she said abruptly, strangely self-conscious. Relieved when he switched on the engine, she strapped herself into her seatbelt and gazed resolutely ahead as they headed back towards Mana, wondering at Niko’s unexpected kindness to Jordan. No wonder the young man respected him.

  It was probably naïve of her to be surprised—and warmed—by Niko’s determination to introduce conservation to Mana. New Zealand farmers had come to realise just how fragile the ecosystem could be, and many were planting along stream banks. Then there was the kiwi restoration project he was working on with the other local landowners. He was a complex man, hard to read, clearly generous and charitably minded.

  And she found it impossible to dismiss the memory of his tenderness during their lovemaking...

  Even though, according to the woman who’d made that phone call, he was also capable of violence.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Niko’s abrupt question startled her. ‘Nothing,’ she returned after a moment of hesitation. And couldn’t stop herself from enquiring, ‘Are you watching the road?’

  His smile was sardonic. ‘I am. I’ve also allowed myself the occasional glance at your profile. You’ve looked rather downcast since you got into the car.’

  ‘I was thinking of Jordan,’ she said, not entirely truthfully.

  Why on earth should he be glancing at her? He’d accepted that she wasn’t going to make love with him again. Obviously it didn’t upset him.

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ Niko said, his tone revealing complete conviction.

  ‘I know. But occasionally I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t been driving home that night.’

  ‘
That’s a waste of time.’

  ‘I suppose it is.’

  Niko glanced across at her profile—unreadable now, but she had to be thinking of those she had loved and lost in a car smash.

  ‘How is it that Mrs Nixon seems to know everything that’s happened in the district? Is she part of some hidden circle that keeps a close watch on everyone?’

  ‘Ugh!’ She shivered at the thought. ‘No, there’s no secret circle of gossipers in Waipuna. It’s just that she was born and grew up here, she knows everybody, and she’s so kind-hearted that people confide in her. You may have noticed she hasn’t said an unkind word about anyone.’

  ‘Is that why you told her we’d made love?’

  She swivelled to stare at him, her expression freezing. ‘I did not!’ she said unevenly.

  ‘Possibly she knows you so well she could guess.’ He spoke in the toneless voice she hated, a voice that made it obvious he didn’t believe her. ‘While you and Petra were exclaiming at the dolphins in the bay, Mrs Nixon took the time to warn me—without actually coming out and saying it in so many words—that you are in a fragile state emotionally.’

  Stunned, Elana stared at him. His face was unreadable, the strong lines and angles of his profile forbidding. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ she said unevenly. ‘So from that you assumed I’d opened my girlish heart to confide in her?’

  Niko shrugged. ‘She’s obviously very fond of you, and you of her. Why?’

  ‘Why am I fond of her? Because—’

  Without ceremony he cut in, ‘Why did you confide in her?’

  She drew in a hard, sharp breath. Between her teeth she stated grittily, ‘I did not confide anything. Why on earth would I?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  Seething, she said crisply, ‘She knows me very well. Possibly she may have noticed a slight difference in my attitude to you, or yours to me, and drawn her own conclusions. I can assure you that I do not announce even to my closest friends who I’ve gone to bed with—especially when I’m regretting my stupidity.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  AS SOON AS her angry words had left her lips, Elana regretted them. ‘Oh, for crying out loud,’ she blurted, ‘I don’t mean—well, you know how I was—afterwards, I mean.’ She stopped, took a deep breath and went on more calmly, ‘Niko, I wasn’t casting aspersions on your prowess as a lover. I’m just regretting I allowed things to go so far.’