Claimed by Her Billionaire Protector
Page 17
‘But you were already with—’ She stopped, and drew in a deep breath, then finishing, ‘You had a partner when you came here. You sent her flowers—’
‘They were a farewell gesture; we’d already broken up. And I broke it off because I’d met you. I cursed the fact that you were in the shop that day, but in a way I was relieved. I had never felt like that before, and I resented it.’ He paused. ‘You did too, didn’t you?’
‘I—well, yes.’ And because he was being honest with her, she confessed, ‘I suppose I used that, and—something else—as a buffer, a reason not to—’
After several seconds, he said quietly, ‘Tell me, Elana. A reason not to do what?’
She realised her hands were twisting together, and stilled them. Although she didn’t know what he was offering, and didn’t know whether or not she dared accept it, she knew she had to be honest.
‘Not to fall for you,’ she said harshly. ‘Not to trust you.’
‘Was it so hard?’
‘I—yes.’
He said, ‘I can understand your fear. But I don’t know how to deal with it. I can promise you that I am no abuser, but how can I expect you to take my word for it?’
‘It’s not just that,’ she said hoarsely.
‘Then what?’ He paused, then said harshly, ‘If you want me to get out of your life, tell me now.’
Her eyes filled with tears. She turned away to hide them, and was instantly enveloped in his arms, held against his strength, his voice reverberating in her ears as he said, ‘Tell me, Elana.’
She muttered, ‘It—I don’t know that I can.’ Then drew in a breath. ‘All right.’
And told him of the telephone call she’d taken. His arms didn’t loosen, and she felt every muscle in his body tighten as she spoke of the woman who’d told her he could be violent.
When her voice died away he was silent for long moments. Tensely she waited.
After what seemed an eon he said quietly, ‘I know who that was. When we broke up she threatened to go to the press with accusations of violence unless I paid her off. I told her I’d sue if she did.’
His arms dropped and he took a step back, eyes hard and a muscle flicking beside his jaw.
Chilled, Elana stared up into a face devoid of expression.
Bleakly he said, ‘With your family history I understand why you find it difficult to trust. I can’t prove that I’m not a violent man. Just as she can’t prove that I am. I can only hope that you know me well enough to trust me.’
‘But I don’t know you very well at all,’ she protested. And then caught her breath. ‘And you don’t really know me. I—I wouldn’t fit into your life.’
‘Why do you say that? You fit perfectly into my life.’
‘This isn’t your real life,’ she said on a half-sob.
‘Of course it is.’ He took a step towards her, then stopped. In a raw voice he said, ‘I won’t touch you. You must make this decision.’
Wrenched by conflicting emotions, she stared at him, her heart in her eyes. ‘I don’t—I can’t believe that you want me.’
‘Believe it,’ he said tersely. ‘I want you, and I love you. I don’t know how it happened, or even why, and believe me, I resisted it. But I know now that it’s love. I must have fallen in love with you that first night at the ball. You were so brave when we came upon young Jordan, and you gave him every encouragement. I was impressed. And I was jealous of your policeman friend—stupidly.’ He paused. ‘Elana, if this isn’t love, I don’t know what is. I do know that it’s driving me crazy. If you don’t want this from me, tell me now and I’ll go and never come back.’
Heart aching, so tense she couldn’t formulate any words, she watched him turn away, until his name broke from her lips.
He stopped. For several seconds her future weighed heavily on her, until she gained the courage to say, ‘Niko, wait—’
He swung around, and looked at her, nakedly importunate. ‘Your decision,’ he said.
And in that moment she knew. ‘Don’t go,’ she said, and took a step towards him.
He froze. ‘You’re sure?’
On another half-sob she whispered, ‘I’m not sure of anything, but I’m not a coward either.’
‘Far from it,’ he said, his voice tender, and reached for her. ‘I swore I wouldn’t do this, that it wouldn’t be fair, but I can’t—I don’t—’ he said roughly, then kissed her, gently at first, followed by kisses of such sweet fierceness that an answering wildness leaped up within her and she responded without fear, with no thought but for this passionate delight.
Finally he lifted his head, and looked down, eyes gleaming, his expression taut, and held her for long moments until her heart eased into a regular beat. When her breathing steadied, he said, ‘Elana?’
She said clumsily, ‘I love the way you say my name. And I love you.’
‘I know that,’ he said, and laughed when she lifted her head and fixed him with what she hoped was an indignant glare.
He sobered, and released her, but didn’t step away. ‘It’s a matter of trust for both of us,’ he said quietly. ‘My parents’ marriage wasn’t a good model. I think my father loved my mother until he died. There were no other women in his life. But she couldn’t cope with his life.’
‘That’s so sad,’ Elana whispered.
‘She decided she wasn’t suited to marriage, so after she left him she had affairs.’ He shrugged. ‘And I’ve spent a fair amount of my adult life fending off women who look at me and see money, with all its benefits. You didn’t.’
‘How do you know?’
He was silent a moment. Then he said, ‘I knew from the first that you were very aware of me. But always there was a barrier, a reserve. You weren’t casting any lures. And cynic that I am, I wondered if that was a clever move on your part to whet my appetite. Then we made love.’
Elana drew a sharp breath and held it.
‘It blew my mind.’ He paused, that humourless smile playing around his lips. ‘And then you made it obvious you weren’t going to repeat it. You still stayed aloof, and I wondered again if you were just a little more clever than most of my other would-be lovers.’ On a steely note he stated, ‘Who were not as many as Mrs Nixon’s gossip magazine writers suggest.’
‘I’m glad,’ she muttered, still bewildered by his confession, torn between intense joy and a deep-seated fear.
‘I got an indication of the reason you were so distant that day at the restaurant when you and Petra watched the dolphins, and Mrs Nixon warned me off.’
She nodded, but couldn’t find the right words to reply, and he continued, ‘She clearly felt it was important. So I had your past checked out.’
Elana stiffened, and wrenched herself free, fixing him with a smouldering glare. ‘And what,’ she enquired starkly, ‘did you find out?’
‘Basically what you told me. That you and your mother spent time in a refuge after she left him, and that he was killed driving away with you.’
She shivered at the harshness of his tone, and he reached for her. Voice deep and sure, he said, ‘I can’t promise to be the perfect husband, but—what’s the matter?’
‘Husband?’ Stunned, she closed her eyes. ‘I don’t—’
Niko made a muffled noise that could have been a laugh or a groan. Or a combination of both. ‘I’m making a total mess of this.’ His voice deepened. ‘Bear with me, please—it’s the first time I’ve ever proposed to anyone, and it will be the last. I love you, Elana. I want you to be my wife, I want to be your husband. I want to make love with you, make delectable babies with you, quarrel with you, listen to you laugh every day and hear you breathing beside me every night. I want to show you my father’s station in the South Island, and as many takehe birds as you want to see. I want us to celebrate anniversaries and buy each other fabulous presents. But more than anything, I hope you want those things too.’ He paused a second, before adding, ‘If you do happen to want all those things, then please put both of us o
ut of our misery.’
She choked on a laugh mingled with a burst of tears, and whispered, ‘Yes.’
‘Yes what?’
‘Yes to everything.’
And at last he kissed her, and she knew that she trusted him, loved him, would always love him and that she need have no fears for their future together.
EPILOGUE
‘PANIA, SWEETHEART, TRY not to make so much noise.’ Elana dropped a kiss on her daughter’s nose, and was rewarded by a chuckle and a kiss on her own chin.
‘But I’m the birthday girl, I’m seven years old today,’ Pania said pertly. ‘I’m allowed to be happy.’
‘Happiness can be quiet, you know, and any more of that yelling is only going to wake the baby, and you know what will happen then.’
‘Crying—lots of it,’ Pania’s brother Kent stated succinctly, ruffling her crown of blonde hair. ‘And anyway, you’re still a baby, Pania. I’m nearly nine.’
‘You’re only eight years and a half,’ his sister asserted, pulling a face at him. ‘When is Daddy coming? Does he know it’s my birthday today?’
‘Of course he does. He should arrive—’ Elana stopped. ‘Ah yes, what can I hear?’
Pania gave another squeal of pure joy, and ran to the window with the best view of the landing pad. ‘It’s the helichopper! Look, look, there it is.’
Both children peered across the garden, watching the helicopter as it landed, then raced from the room and down the stairs. Elana waited a moment, and when no wail emanated from the baby’s crib she followed them.
Niko had been busy for the past week at what was now his head office in Auckland, organising everything so their holiday at Mana would be uninterrupted.
She walked across the lawn towards the gate, noting that Kent grabbed Pania’s hand before they reached it so she couldn’t speed through into the forbidden landing pad. He was already showing signs of being every bit as protective—and autocratic—as his father.
And Pania, with her head of bright hair and her soft heart, reminded her sometimes of her mother. Their little Cara, five months old, was an unexpected gift. She had Niko’s black hair and startlingly blue eyes.
Smiling, Elana watched as he got down from the helicopter and strode towards them.
Ten years previously she’d put all her trust in her instinct and her love for him. And she’d never regretted it. He’d shown her how magnificent a marriage of loving hearts could be.
He came towards her, a child hanging from each hand, his face alight with pleasure. ‘Elana, darling girl, it’s good to be back home,’ he said, and kissed her.
Hand in hand they walked back to the homestead, and into their future, the future they had made together.
* * * * *
Coming next month
IMPRISONED BY THE GREEK’S RING
Caitlin Crews
Atlas was a primitive man, when all was said and done. And whatever else happened in this dirty game, Lexi was his.
Entirely his, to do with as he wished.
He kissed her and he kissed her. He indulged himself. He toyed with her. He tasted her. He was unapologetic and thorough at once.
And with every taste, every indulgence, Atlas felt.
He felt.
He, who hadn’t felt a damned thing in years. He, who had walled himself off to survive. He had become stone. Fury in human form.
But Lexi tasted like hope.
“This doesn’t feel like revenge,” she whispered in his ear, and she sounded drugged.
“I’m delighted you think so,” he replied.
And then he set his mouth to hers again, because it was easier. Or better. Or simply because he had to, or die wanting her.
Lexi thrashed beneath him, and he wasn’t sure why until he tilted back his head to get a better look at her face. And the answer slammed through him like some kind of cannonball, shot straight into him.
Need. She was wild with need.
And he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Of her.
The part of him that trusted no one, and her least of all, didn’t trust this reaction either.
But the rest of him—especially the hardest part of him—didn’t care.
Because she tasted like magic and he had given up on magic long, long time ago.
Because her hands tangled in his hair and tugged his face to hers, and he didn’t have it in him to question that.
All Atlas knew was that he wanted more. Needed more.
As if, after surviving things that no man should be forced to bear, it would be little Lexi Haring who took him out. It would be this one shockingly pretty woman who would be the end of him. And not because she’d plotted against him, as he believed some if not all of her family had done, but because of this. Her surrender.
The endless, wondrous glory of her surrender.
Copyright ©2018 by Caitlin Crews
Continue reading
IMPRISONED BY THE GREEK’S RING
Caitlin Crews
Available next month
www.millsandboon.co.uk